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“Depending on the nanny,” Vance spoke for the first time, his voice deep and rich. His eyes were off the screens and on my legs, saying he wouldn’t mind watching me get poked if I was the nanny. I was also hoping he wasn’t communicating he didn’t mind just watching me get laid by Lee.
Yikes.
Though, you had to admit, he had balls checking me out in front of Lee.
Lee kept going. “Staff does rotation in here, depending on what assignment they’re on. That way they don’t have to sit in a windowless room very often and can keep sharp doing field work.”
Lee started to move me to the door and I called, “Later, guys.”
Both looked at me. Monty gave a small wave. Vance grinned. I wondered if I would see the guys later, like, say, if Lee had a company picnic.
“Do you have cameras in your office?” I asked Lee when he closed the door.
“Nope.”
Thank God.
“Tell me about Monty,” I went on.
“Monty’s an ex-SEAL. Knee injury took him out. The only guy who takes five shifts in surveillance a week. He manages the room. He comes in if we have any field operations, most of which he plans because he’s good at it. He’s been married twenty years, has five kids and may look mellow, but even with a bum knee, he’s a serious guy you do not want to mess with.”
Yikes.
“Field operations?” I asked.
“Sometimes, end work on a corporate investigation. Mostly when we work with the PD or Feds.”
“What do you do with the police and the government?”
Lee didn’t answer.
I didn’t push.
“And Vance?” I pressed on.
“Vance is the master of multitasking. He’s off the rez. A recovering alcoholic and ex-con, grand theft auto. He has quick hands and quiet feet, can make himself invisible, is an excellent tracker and can do anything with cameras and electronics. He usually traces skips, but he also does a lot of our wire work. He wired Fortnum’s. I would have given him the new skip, but he just bought himself a week in the surveillance room. As for you, if you look at him like that again, I’ll cuff you to the bed and only let you go for bathroom breaks.”
“Jeez, now who’s jealous?”
I said it out loud but I meant to think it, and might I add that this was a habit that was becoming alarming.
My comment was a big mistake.
Without warning, Lee’s hand closed on my upper arm, he opened the locker room door and pulled me inside. He slammed the door shut behind us, shoved me against the lockers and came up on me so there wasn’t room to move.
I looked up at him, about to say something, but thought better of it because his face was Badass Angry.
“Something to learn about me, since you haven’t already taken it in,” he said in his scary, calm voice, “I realize I’ll have to put up with you receiving attention. I’ve no problem with that. I’ve had a lot of practice. What Idon’tlike is that you flirt as easily as you lie. It’s second nature. You’re gonna have to make an effort to stop because I don’t like it. I especially don’t like it when you do it with my men. They have to keep focused, and we’ve already established you’re distracting. It’s okay for me to think of fuckin’ you on my couch. I don’t want it shoved in my face that Vance’ll be thinkin’ of fuckin’ you in the surveillance room or on his Harley, which he no doubt saw you starin’ at like you’d do anything to be astride it.”
“So that’s Vance’s Harley,” I said. Yep. Aloud. Again.
Lee came even closer and his body pressed me back into the lockers.
“Lee, move back,” I warned, beginning to get pissed off.
He didn’t move.
So I went into being full-fledged pissed off, wedged my hands between us and shoved.
