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“You got it, boss!” Wells calls out, laughing at Jerrick’s retreating back. “Well, Summer. I’ll be in reception if you need me or are ready to go home.” At my nod, he turns and walks back to sit in the same seat Houston occupied the whole day.
An hour later, Jerrick comes out of his office with his backpack on. “I’m headed out a little early today. You’re free to go, too.”
“Oh, great. Thank you.” My voice sounds equal parts shocked and happy. I’m ready to see my pack.
“Have a great night.” He waves and walks away. A few clicks of my mouse later, and my computer is locked. I grab my purse from the drawer and head toward the reception to meet Wells. When he sees me, he stands. There is a little bounce in his step as he meets me halfway and slings an arm around my shoulder.
“Ready to go, squirt?” Holy cow, this guy is friendly. I’m not sure what to make of it. It reminds me a little of Hudson, minus any of the feelings. Wells’ affection feels almost brotherly. Like in the next second, he’s likely to give me a noogie just to mess my hair up.
“Ready,” I confirm. We take the elevator down to the parking garage level and walk to the car that is in the same reserved spot as it was when Houston and I drove in.
“How did Houston get home?” I ask Wells. He responds easily, much more talkative than Houston was this morning.
“He took the car that I drove here, duh.” Oh.Obviously.Despite Wells’ affable personality, his head is on a constant swivel, just as Houston’s was. He just manages to carry a conversation at the same time. “How was work today?” Wells asks me, waiting for me to get in the passenger seat before he jogs around to the driver’s.
“It was fine. Nothing big happened, so it kind of dragged.” I shrug, buckling my belt. When I glance over, I notice Wells is backing out of the spot with his seatbelt buckled behind him.
“Why aren’t you wearing your seatbelt?” I ask him out of curiosity.
“Why are you wearing yours?” His response is instant.
“Safety.” He turns onto the road and then glances at me out of the corner of his eye.
“Ditto.”
“Youdon’twear a seatbelt… out ofsafety?”The incredulity in my voice is obvious.
“Exactly,” he laughs, reaching to turn the music to a different station.
“That doesn’t make any sense.” I frown at him and then reach over to turn the station to anything else when he turns on a sports station.
“Hey!” he grumbles, turning it back. “You know, curiosity killed the cat.”
I flip the channel back to a pop station. “Yeah, but satisfaction brought it back,” I growl at him.
A hand shoots up in surrender; he leaves the radio on the pop station, laughs, then answers me. “Habit, I guess. I like to not be hindered by anything in case I have to make a quick exit. So it’s mostly for safety, but a little because I just got used to doing it.”
“Where’d you learn it?” I wonder, fascinated that he is so open when his teammate was the exact opposite this morning.
“I was a cop for a few years, then a detective for six.” He signals and switches lanes.
Huh. Not what I would have guessed for the goofy flirt of the trio. But I suppose personal security also seems strange. Or at least it would if he wasn’t built like a freaking machine. “And Houston and Damien?”
“Houston was military. Damien worked for OPS for a few years before deciding to go into private security. He was the one who started the company and hired Houston and me.”
“Huh,” I say in amazement. I could see that. Damien definitely had the buttoned-up leader look down-pat. And Houston, with his ‘yes ma’ams,’ brusk demeanor, and buzz cut, definitely screams military.
Wells laughs at the face I pull. “You really got him to open up to you this morning, huh? Did you guys exchange friendship bracelets and make a secret handshake?”
“Are you always this obnoxious?” I grumble, poking him in his ribs. This just seems to amuse him.
“Yes,” He replies, matter-of-fact. Well, at least he’s honest. Then, he surprises me by giving me some more information without me even having to ask. “Don’t take it personally. Houston. He’s always been closed off. Even to me and Damien. I don’t know why, but Damien must because he always steers conversations away from Houston’s time in the military. So, if you want to stay in his good graces, just don’t ask too many personal questions. Especially about his past. Just bring him chocolate-covered anything, and you’ll have a friend for life. Albeit a very grouchy one.”
“Chocolate,” I laugh. “Got it. Thanks.” We don’t talk the rest of the way to the house. I just laugh and record him as he belts out the lyrics to every pop song that comes on the radio in the next ten minutes. The sports station may have just been a ruse, I’m starting to wonder. Because he is enjoying the heck out of the oneI picked.I think he just played some reverse psychology on me, and I’m too amused to be mad about it.
We pull up to the house and wait for the garage to open. There isn’t a car in there yet, so we must have beaten everyone home. I walk into the house alone. Wells says he’s going to do a sweep of the perimeter, which seems excessive since it’s the middle of the day and Damien and Houston are both here, but hey, he’s the expert.
The house is quiet. It feels weird. Like I’m walking into someone else’s house when they aren’t here and shouldn’t make too much noise. The kitchen is still a mess from Mason’s breakfast shenanigans. So I walk over, wipe down the countertops, do the dishes, and unload the dishwasher. When all that’s done, I look around the kitchen and into the open-concept living room. Everything else is more or less clean. So I walk over to the couch, sit down, and pull out my phone. We got here in good time since Jerrick had to leave early. I’m not sure what to do with myself until everyone else gets home.
