Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
G avin didn’t consider himself a chef by any stretch of the imagination, but he wasn’t completely inept. One didn’t get to be a single guy knocking on forty without being somewhat capable in the kitchen. At least, they shouldn’t.
He frowned when he thought of the woman asleep on his couch. Bean was in her early thirties and lived off energy drinks and frozen dinners. He had no doubt that if she lived in a larger city, she’d add to that a rotation of takeout from all nearby restaurants. He’d been in her house numerous times over the years and knew her kitchen was still basically brand new. The microwave and fridge-freezer were the only things that she used.
The timer dinged, and he pulled the glass dish from the oven and set the baked honey-garlic chicken onto the stovetop to rest. At the same time, the rice cooker chimed, letting him know the last part of their dinner was ready. Chicken and rice. Not the fanciest of meals, but it was a whole lot better than the frozen crap Bean usually had.
After turning off the oven, he made his way back to the living room and stopped short in the entryway. Bean was curled onto her side. Her five foot three looked especially tiny on his oversized couch. The woman was so damn smart and gave him so much shit that he forgot how slight she really was. But seeing her completely at ease on his couch brought it all to reality.
She’d fainted and had been taken out by the corner of her desk. None of that was okay.
A feeling he didn’t recognize rushed through him. It wasn’t quite worry, and it wasn’t quite protectiveness. It was... He didn’t know what it was, but it made him uneasy. And not in a watch-your-back kind of way. Rather it was...
Hell, he couldn’t explain it.
Seeing the bruise darkening on her face had his jaw clenching. As much as he hated the idea of her fainting, he was thankful no one had hurt her. Because had that been the case, that person would no longer be walking the earth. However, since her bruised face was due to her passing out, he needed to reevaluate Bean’s role at Hudson Security and just how much he put on her plate.
As Gavin had told her, she was the most important person at Hudson. Her skills were unmatched. Yes, his various team members—from the personal security specialists and pilots to even him and MacKay—were the best of the best.
However, Bean was next-level. There were very few people in the entire world who could do what Bean did, who had the vast innate computer knowledge she possessed.
He knew she enjoyed what she did—everything from the complex research projects to the intricate mission executions—because Bean was a puzzle solver to her core. But she wasn’t taking care of herself. She lived off a steady diet of caffeine and processed foods with an unlimited shelf life. It wouldn’t do the company or her any good if she worked herself to death.
She looked out for everyone at Hudson Security, but it wasn’t until today—when he saw the utter panic on her face when Doc said she needed to be offline for forty-eight hours—that he realized that no one looked out for her. And that was unacceptable.
He hated to disturb her, but she needed sustenance. No matter how peaceful she looked. Crouching next to the couch, he grimaced as his knees popped. “B, you awake?”
“No,” she grumbled, eyes still closed.
He smiled. How had he never realized how damn cute she was when she was crabby?
Wait, what? He froze. Uh, no. If fact, make that hell no.
Shaking his head, he cleared his throat. “I made chicken and rice. You need to eat something.”
Nothing. She gave zero indication she’d heard him.
Part of him was grateful her eyes were still shut. Because that earlier feeling he didn’t recognize? It was not only growing, but he also feared his confusion was written all over his face.
“Bean?”
“Go away.”
Focus, Frazier. The woman—your friend —is concussed and needs food.
Shoving his emotions down, he refused to be deterred. They hadn’t been friends for all these years for nothing. He knew the trick with Bean. “Xander said he’s going to drop off some ice cream for you later.”
Her eyes popped open, and he bit back a smile. Barely. “What flavors?”
“Mint chocolate chip and cookies and cream,” he replied with zero hesitation. “But dinner first, B.”
“I’m not a child,” she said with an exasperated sigh as she moved to sitting. “You don’t have to bribe me to eat dinner.”
“Would never dream of it,” he said, rising. That was exactly what he had to do. “You okay eating in the kitchen? ”
“Sure,” she said as she stretched her arms over her head. After pushing the blanket off, she glanced down at herself and frowned. “Let me change first.”
“Take your time,” he said as she rose. She grabbed the bag he’d snagged from her trunk and headed down the hallway to the guest room. Once she was out of sight, he pulled his phone from his back pocket.
Gavin
Are you back on Hudson?
Xander
Almost. Ferry’s just pulling in. I left Team Two with the McClintocks. They’re all still at the hospital. What’s up?
Gavin
Can you pick up a gallon of cookies and cream and drop it by my house? Mint chocolate chip too?
When Xander replied with a row of laughing emojis, Gavin silently cursed his friend.
Gavin
Is that a yes?
Xander
Sure. I assume it’s to bribe Bean?
Gavin snorted. The fact that Bean had the appetite of a teenage boy was no secret to anyone. Frozen food, takeout, chips, ramen, energy drinks, and soda.
Gavin
You assume correctly.
Xander
She okay? Heard through the grapevine she’s got a shiner and possible concussion.
Gavin
She should be fine after some food and rest.
Xander
Ahhh. Hence the ice cream. Got it. Give me thirty. Forty-five. Tops.
Gavin
Thanks.
Pocketing his phone, Gavin made his way back to the kitchen. He grabbed two plates as he heard her footsteps approaching behind him.
“Holy crap, did you actually cook, boss? Like real food? Because it smells great.”
Scooping rice onto their plates, he asked, “Do you want one piece of chicken or tw?—”
The words died on his lips as he turned toward her. Hell, every damn thought he had evaporated. The only thing his mind could focus on was the woman standing beside him. He’d seen her in her perfectly pressed business attire. He’d seen her in baggy sweats and a T-shirt. But this? Cotton shorts that hit her mid-thigh and an oversized sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder exposing a flesh-colored bra strap?
Holy. Shit.
Seemingly oblivious to his wayward thoughts, she took the plate from his hands and helped herself to the chicken. Thank God, because he wasn’t yet able to form words.
“This looks great. Seriously. My idea of cooking is making ramen on the stovetop instead of in the microwave.” She glanced at him on her way to the kitchen table, and a frown scrunched her forehead. “You okay, boss man? ”
Holy fuck, he was so far from okay it wasn’t even funny. “Yeah,” he said, fighting a wince at the strangled sound of that one word. “Just hungry, I guess. How’s the headache?”
“Mostly gone,” she said as she cut her chicken into bite-sized pieces. “I think the catnap and Tylenol helped.” She took a bite of the chicken and rice and moaned. Deep and low. “Ohmygod, this is really good.”
Holy shit. Kill. Me. Now.
Bean making that noise had his mind spiraling straight into the gutter. He didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with him. Because every image that was currently flashing in his mind—images of her making that noise under completely different circumstances—was one thousand percent inappropriate and not okay. He shoveled food into his mouth to buy himself some time to get his head on straight and his thoughts under control.
This was Bean , dammit. One of his closest friends. One of his most trusted colleagues. One of his?—
She moaned again around another bite of food, closing her eyes in apparent bliss.
Fuck.
Bean couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a home-cooked meal. Technically, it wasn’t a fancy dinner, but considering her usual dinners cooked for four and a half minutes on high, the sweet and savory chicken and rice was downright gourmet.
She took another bite and couldn’t help but groan in appreciation. It was that good. Maybe she should learn how to cook one of these days?
Gavin cleared his throat. She brought her attention back to him, and her eyes widened in surprise. She was five bites into her dinner, and he’d already nearly cleared his plate.
After finishing his last bite, he pushed his plate to the side, rested his elbows on the table, and clasped his hands under his chin. “I know it’s still pretty early, but I’d like you to get more rest. Even if your headache is gone by the morning, I’d like you to stay offline tomorrow.” She opened her mouth, but he held up his hand to ward off her protest. “Call MacKay tonight. Esme let him know you’d be going dark for the next twenty-four and had him line up Tiny to take some things off your plate.”
She shoved another bite of food into her mouth to hold off an automatic snarky reply. She knew it was for the best, but damn if she didn’t want to throw a temper tantrum.
“Please, B. You passed out.”
He looked so earnest, so conflicted that she couldn’t help but concede.
“Fine,” she said with a sigh. “But there has to be something productive I can do. I can’t just sit here all day or I’ll go crazy.” A little overdramatic? Yes. But not inaccurate. She glanced around his pristine kitchen. “How about I rearrange things here?”
Gavin made a choking noise, and she bit back a smirk. “Uh, how about you not?”
The man was precise. Detailed. Exacting. Hell, he was probably the most anal-retentive person she knew. And she worked with a bunch of nit-picking-alpha types, so that said a lot . The idea of her rearranging his kitchen probably had him breaking out in hives. And Bean found that idea comical. But she’d throw the guy a bone...
“How about this? Instead of rearranging your kitchen and home office tomorrow,” she swallowed a chuckle as his face blanched, “I head over to Tactical’s training center and meet with Wilson.” Gavin was shaking his head before she’d finished speaking. “Hear me out, boss. If I take a look at their programs firsthand, I can give the tech crew a layperson’s idea of what should go up on the website. It’ll be like free market research.”
“You’re supposed to be taking it easy.”
She waved her hand, dismissing Gavin’s concern. “Please. Wilson knows me.”
Bennett Wilson was one of their elite security specialists. He also ran the outdoor survival training program for Hudson Tactical.
“Wilson knows I’m indoorsy. It’s not like he’s going to have me tromping around the forest or anything. Plus, you know there won’t be any overstimulation from crowds or anything, because he peoples worse than I do.”
Gavin nodded. “That’s true. How about a compromise?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Depends on the compromise.”
“Fair. You scope out Tactical’s programs tomorrow, and in return, when you feel better, you take it.”
“Take what?”
“Wilson’s outdoor survival course.”
“Uh, no.” She snorted. “How about a counter proposal? I check out their programs tomorrow, and I consider signing up for Wilson’s course. Though we both know it would be a complete waste of my and Wilson’s time.”
“Why would you say that? You never know when you’ll be stuck in the woods.”
She scoffed. The man had to be kidding. “Uh, yes, I do. Seeing as I don’t go into the woods, the answer is never.”
He shook his head. “I’m serious, B. It’s surprisingly easy to get lost in nature. Even if you stick to the trails, it doesn’t take much to get turned around.”
For a moment, she studied him. On one hand, she knew what he was doing. God knew Gavin was a be-prepared-for-anything type of man and wanted to extend that to her. It was oddly sweet. However, on the other hand, did he not know her at all?
“Frazier, I don’t really like . . . nature.”
The wrinkle between his brows popped as if he truly didn’t understand her statement. “What exactly about nature don’t you like?”
Good God, where to start? Oh, yes... “The bugs. The dirt. The lack of flushable toilets. Getting rained on. Getting too hot. Getting too cold. The?—”
“Okay, fine.” He chuckled. “Counter proposal accepted. However, you have to seriously consider taking the course. Don’t underestimate the power of nature. It has a way of balancing everything out. Settling you.”
“How very Zen of you.” She flashed him a wide, toothy smile.
“Smart-ass,” he said, shaking his head. “ And you have to promise not to overexert yourself tomorrow. You know Wilson, he’ll want to take you on an ‘easy two-mile hike’ that will eventually turn into eight miles.”
Taking the last bite of her food, she shook her head. “Oh, trust me, that won’t be a problem, boss man. Pretty sure Wilson will take one look at my hiking boots and remove any kind of hiking from the agenda.”
“You have hiking boots?” he asked, rising from the table as the doorbell chimed.
“Do teal-blue Chucks count?” she asked with a saccharine smile.
“Negative,” he called out over his shoulder.
Moments later, Gavin was back with Xander trailing behind him. Bean grinned when she spied the paper bag from the local grocery store in his hands.
She rose and grabbed a bowl and spoon. “Xander, you know you’re my favorite, right?”
“What? No bowls for us?” Gavin teased.
Bean snorted as she eyed both him and Xander up and down before grabbing the bag of ice cream from Xander. “Please. Like you two eat this delicious, amazing garbage. You two”—she waved the ice cream spade at them before turning back to the counter to scoop her dessert—“are the my-body-is-my-temple types. So more tasty goodness for me.”
“From where I’m standing, B,” Xander said, “ice cream seems to be doing you well.”
Irritation flooded Gavin’s senses as Xander gave Bean a long, leisurely look. Without thought, he punched his friend in the arm. Hard. The fuck? he mouthed.
“You’re sweet, Xan,” Bean said, her back still to them as she placed the two gallons into the freezer. Turning, she walked past, overflowing bowl in hand, and playfully smacked Xander on the cheek. “A liar, but still sweet.”
Xander laughed and took the seat next to her at the kitchen table.
Gavin frowned. She should have smacked the fucker harder.
“You know, Bean, in all the years we’ve known each other,” Xander said, his tone deceptively casual with that obnoxious aw-shucks bullshit out in full force, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so... relaxed.”
Taking a bite of her cookies and cream ice cream, she shrugged. “I love my heels and pencil skirts as much as the next girl, but eating a delicious home-cooked dinner and ice cream calls for cozy clothes.”
While a part of Gavin preened at her complimenting the dinner he’d made, he also knew the shit she usually ate. The bar was so damn low. Still...
“I’m starving. You have any leftovers?” Xander asked as a cell phone rang in the living room.
“Sorry, that’s mine,” Bean said, rising and wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Be right back.”
As she hurried out of the kitchen, Gavin caught the direction of Xander’s gaze—Bean’s legs and ass—and leaned over the table. “Stop eye-fucking her,” he hissed.
Xander’s jaw dropped. “What?”
Growing anger had his insides vibrating. “I said,” he growled through clenched teeth, “stop. Eye-fuc?—”
“I heard what you said, asshole.” Xander rolled his eyes. That damn smarmy grin Gavin was too familiar with lifted his friend’s lips. “One, I’m not. I was literally just looking at her since she was speaking. You know, that’s what normal people do when having a conversation. And two, even if I were, why the fuck is it your concern?”
Gavin’s fists clenched. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. It was either that or strangle his friend. “Because it’s fucking disrespectful. This is Bean we’re talking about, and you don’t?—”
“That was MacKay,” the woman in question said as she reentered the kitchen. “He’s going to call you in half an hour, boss, to talk about Tiny coming on full-time.”
Gavin nodded but didn’t take his gaze off Xander. The fucker’s smarmy grin was now a full-on smirk.
Bean cleared her throat. Loudly. “Whoa, boys. I don’t know what happened in the thirty seconds I was gone, but knock it off.”
Gavin turned his attention to Bean, who continued to eat her ice cream while side-eyeing them.
“Yes, ma’am,” Xander said with an easy grin. “And there’s nothing to worry about. The boss just got his panties in a twist. For no damn reason. Isn’t that right, Frazier?”
Gavin narrowed his eyes at the challenge he saw in his friend’s gaze. However, there was also enough humor staring back at him to make him wonder if he’d read Xander wrong. If he’d jumped to conclusions. If he’d just made a complete ass of himself.
He lifted his chin at Xander and turned to Bean. “We’re good. Nothing to worry about.” She looked at him like she didn’t quite believe him. “Really, B.”
While Xander fixed himself a plate of chicken and rice, Bean updated them on Tiny joining the fold. It was a move Gavin was completely on board with, not only because she would be going dark for the next day or two, but in general.
Guilt turned his stomach. She’d passed out. He had no doubt that exhaustion had played a significant role. She’d been burning the candle at both ends, and yet they’d kept piling more shit onto her already full plate. He wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself for not seeing it sooner.
“That’s great you’re getting some backup,” Xander said, digging into his food. “That’ll come in handy, especially this weekend.”
She sat up straighter, and that curious sparkle lit her eyes.
Gavin inwardly cringed. Curious sparkle? Holy shit, what was wrong with him?
“When I was with the McClintocks earlier, Edward and I briefly talked about the event this Saturday night.” Xander glanced at Gavin. “You’re going, right?”
“Their family charity thing?” Gavin asked.
Xander nodded. “Edward said he’s going to call you about it. He has a colleague who’ll be there who’s interested in retaining Hudson.”
“Pretty sure it’s on my calendar,” Gavin said. He hated events like these. While he appreciated that these types of events raised money for various charities, they always came across as pretentious. The people who attended and donated heavily had more money than God. Couldn’t they just write a check and call it done? Why spend tens of thousands of dollars on a fancy venue and catering? Oh, that’s right. Because those same people who donated needed the look-at-me! affirmation of knowing they were better than everyone else.
Jaded and cynical? Absolutely. But was he wrong? Not at all.
“You have to bring a plus-one, though,” Xander said.
He frowned. “Why?”
Xander sighed and pushed his empty plate to the side. “Because for obvious reasons, Edward and Rita won’t be attending anymore. Edward’s sister runs the family’s charity and wants you and your guest at the family table in place of Edward and Rita.”
Gavin’s lips pressed together. “Still not seeing why I need a plus-one.”
Xander rolled his eyes. “Because the sister wants even numbers at the tables.”
He blinked. Twice. “You’re kidding.”
“Wish I was, brother. Wish I was.” Xander’s mouth scrunched as if he’d bitten into something sour. “Constance—the sister—came to the hospital and threw a damn hissy fit when she heard Edward and Rita weren’t going.”
Bean’s jaw dropped. “Their kid’s in the hospital . Of course they aren’t going to a freaking party.”
“Right?” Xander shook his head.
Her face scrunched. “Well, I’m not exactly surprised. Even though Constance Whitcomb is Edward’s sister, she’s also the society trophy wife of old Seattle money Roger Whitcomb who’s twice her age. On top of that, she has a reputation of sleeping with her staff, firing them, and then threatening to sue them.”
It was Gavin’s turn to have his jaw drop. “How do you know that? ”
“It’s amazing what you can find when you dive deep enough.” Bean shrugged. “When Anson was kidnapped, you wanted me to do a deep dive into all of McClintock’s associates. Not only is she Edward’s sister, but she’s the president of the family’s foundation and basically the definition of ick.”
“Well, she’s also batshit nuts,” Xander said, tilting back in his chair. “She wouldn’t shut the fuck up—and I’m talking screaming in a goddamn pediatric hospital—until Edward agreed to have you and your guest at their table.”
Gavin’s mouth hung open. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Agreed. However, Constance made sure to tell me to tell you that she is looking forward to seeing you. She specifically wanted me to mention that she’s seating you right next to her.” Xander shuddered. “Aside from the colleague who wants to meet you, I think Edward’s going to offer to pay you to go to the event too. Generally, I’d recommend that it wouldn’t be necessary, but...” He made a face. “If you’re seated next to that woman, I’d ask him for hazard pay.”
“I’ll take your recommendation under advisement.” Gavin chuckled and lifted his chin at Bean. “Want to go on Saturday?”
She snorted. “Negative, boss man. That’s Esme’s thing. She’s much better at playing nice. As an extra bonus, she can also be your personal security for the night and protect you from Constance. Besides”—a look of disgust crossed her face—“I’m liable to dump a glass of wine over that batshit woman’s head on principle.”
“Good point,” Gavin said with a forced smile.
“But you better start sucking up to Esme ASAP, or she’ll ditch you and make you fend for yourself with that woman.”
“Ha ha,” Gavin replied, deadpan .
Damn. What the hell had he been thinking asking B to go with him?
He always took Esme to these types of events. His director of logistics was a former CIA operative and had the uncanny ability to spot a fraud from across a crowded room. She could also schmooze with the best of them. So why the hell did he think bringing B would make the event more enjoyable, more fun?
It’s a work event, Frazier, not a goddamn social hour.
He shook his head at his lapse, but not before he caught Xander’s smirk.