Scout (Killers Inc. #5)

Chapter One

The acres of wooded land where the Bosi property was located sometimes felt secluded as hell.

For years, Clay had trailed through every inch, checking for security breaches.

Those strolls had always been one of his favorite assignments in the day.

Since the Agafonov family combined their lives with the Bosi family, his walks had been shortened, if he got to go at all.

One Agafonov brother, Tracker, was a god of technology.

He had installed the most badass of high-tech security equipment that money could buy and ran it all with ease.

Truthfully, he had rendered most of Beau’s live-in staff useless.

Now they simply served as an army slash personal bodyguards.

While his job still wasn’t a bad one, he missed the solitude and peace of zigzagging through nature half of the day.

Now Clay felt like he had to look busy most of the day. It was kind of stressful.

As part of his new daily routine, Clay cut through the back hallways of the main house.

He did what he always did—he prayed for a few hours of no one else bursting into the kitchen.

Chef Fabrice was the master of his domain.

He wouldn’t let just anyone sit with him while he worked.

While there was a kitchen table for people to sit, Fabrice quickly shuffled most people toward the formal dining room.

He didn’t like people in his space. Clay and barely a handful of others were the only exceptions.

Since Fabrice and Clay had grown up together inside the Bosi home, and they were the same age, they had naturally been glued at the hip since day one.

Clay enjoyed spending his shift in Fabrice’s bubble.

Maybe he was just lazy, but his job was kind of boring.

Clay peeked inside the kitchen, ensuring it was empty, before slipping inside.

There were other kitchen staff members always bouncing around, working on baked goods and whatnot.

They paid no mind to Clay. Fabrice was their boss.

If he said Clay could come in and do whatever he wanted, then that was what happened.

The opulent kitchen had every toy a true chef would kill to have.

Black stainless steel appliances littered every space.

A huge flow of gorgeously patterned backsplash made the entire place easier for the cleaning staff to keep sparkling.

Delicious smells wafted all around him. Fresh bread and apple pie smelled like coming home.

The luminous smile that greeted him warmed the air.

Fabrice’s jet-black hair and light-blue eyes were as familiar to Clay as his own reflection.

“At last. I saved you pie.”

“Hey.” Clay raced Fabrice's way and lifted him off his feet. “It’s my friend.” He loudly kissed Fabrice's cheek while Fabrice fought to get away and wipe his cheek.

“Brute.”

Clay’s face hurt from how big he smiled as he set Fabrice aside. “You love me. Where’s the pie?” He rubbed his hands together. Clay really wasn’t hungry. One of these days, he would be as big as a house with the way Fabrice spoiled him, especially now that they had shortened his daily walks.

The way Fabrice glowed with happiness proved how fake his struggles had been as he brought a small plate and fork to the table. “Limoncello?”

Clay clutched his chest dramatically. “It’s like you don’t even know me.” He dropped his hands. “That stuff tastes like floor cleaner. I’ll grab some tea.”

A snort burst from Fabrice as he moved to make the tea. “Drunk a lot of floor cleaner in your life, have you?”

Clay really would have made his own tea, but it was Fabrice’s kitchen. He didn’t like his things being touched. “Probably. You were there. I was a terror.”

“Were?” Fabrice looked his way with raised eyebrows and shock sketching his features. “You’re a menace now.”

Clay chuckled as he shoved a bite of apple pie in his mouth.

Fabrice set the glass of tea next to Clay’s plate on the counter. “You—”

Henry strolled into the kitchen, cutting off Fabrice and catching Clay mid-bite. “Why am I not surprised to find you here?”

Damn. Henry was Beau Bosi’s partner and Clay’s boss. A groan rang through Clay’s head. The guy had an uncanny ability to always bust Clay every time he went to visit Fabrice. “I’m on—”

Henry swiped a hand through the air. His brown eyes practically glowed with impatience.

“Yeah. I don’t care. Go pack a bag. You’re heading to Hawaii ahead of the family.

I need you to sweep the property before the rest of us join you next week.

You know what to look for. It’s your responsibility to make sure the place is one hundred percent secure before Beau and Kylo get there. Understood?”

Clay gave him a sharp nod. “On it.” Like he would complain about a week longer at the compound in Hawaii. He had never been sent to handle security ahead of time.

Henry’s gaze swept Fabrice’s way. “You’re still needed here. You’ll leave with the family next week.”

“Oui, Monsieur.”

Henry focused on Clay again. “The plane will be ready in an hour.”

Damn. That gave him barely any time to pack. Thankfully, he had already started since he had to be prepared for six weeks in the tropics. Seven now. “I’ll be there.”

Henry smiled. If Clay wasn’t mistaken, the gesture had a devilish edge. “Have fun.”

Clay didn’t know how to respond. While he planned to make some time for fun, he didn’t think he should admit that to his boss. He ended up just nodding and hoping that was enough.

Henry strolled out without another word.

Clay and Fabrice exchanged a glance.

Fabrice broke first. “You should hurry. It’s at least half an hour to get to the airstrip.”

A smile exploded across Clay’s face. He couldn’t help it. Clay was going to Hawaii for a whole week alone. He hadn’t truly had a vacation in years. “I’m gone.” He shoveled the last of the pie into his mouth and chugged the tea. Clay gave Fabrice another messy kiss on his cheek.

Fabrice shoved at his chest. “Oui. I love you too. Get lost.”

With a loud laugh, Clay skipped from the kitchen like a kid and headed through the back halls to his bedroom. He would be on the beach by the end of the day. Clay couldn’t fucking wait.

There were no good radio stations in this area.

Scout hadn’t wanted to pair his phone with a car that didn’t belong to him.

There was no fucking way he would make the thirty-minute drive without tunes.

He tapped the screen on the dash to get started.

Clay came through the door into the garage, fighting with two suitcases.

Scout honked.

Clay jumped as if a dog bit his ass.

Scout couldn’t fight his smile as Clay’s glare swung his way.

Scout chuckled as he waved for Clay to join him. When Clay took a step in his direction without his luggage, Scout rolled down the window. “I’m your chariot.”

As Clay lugged his bags to the car, he looked torn between confused and nervous.

They made half a second’s worth of eye contact before Clay skittered past to get away.

This time, when Scout chuckled, the laugh sounded as dangerous as he was.

Just three nights prior, they had kissed.

Scout was pretty certain he had made his intentions known.

But the way Clay had kissed him—like one good fuck from him would ruin Scout for everyone—did not match the bending-over-backwards-to-avoid-him Clay had done since.

Scout was about to ruin all that for Clay. There was no escaping him now.

Clay slipped into the passenger seat. A loud metal song Scout loved blared through the radio before Clay closed the door.

Scout’s gaze shot toward the dash. Clay’s phone had connected automatically. It seemed they had the same taste in music. That was good. Now Scout knew exactly which playlist he would use when he let Clay bend him over the first solid piece of furniture they found.

“Sorry about that.” Clay turned the radio down. He met Scout’s stare. His eyes slid away, as if he couldn’t look at Scout directly. Scout knew what he saw. All the hunger he felt when he was with Clay had to show on his face. “I forgot what I’d been listening to when I got home yesterday.”

If Clay wanted to talk about mundane things, they would. “It’s cool. I couldn’t find a good station.”

Clay nodded. “You won’t out here. We’re kind of in a dead area.”

Scout tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for Clay to put on his seatbelt. “So, is this the car you drive when you go out?”

Clay laughed. “Yeah, dude. It’s my car.”

The realization embarrassed him a little, and Scout wasn’t one to feel flustered. He brazened it out. “Oops. Henry threw me the keys.” Scout tapped his fingers again, hoping Clay took the hint.

Clay still made no move to buckle up.

He couldn’t take it. “Seatbelt.”

“I don’t wear seatbelts.”

Scout’s eyebrows rose. “You do when I drive.”

They held each other’s stare, trying to wait each other out.

Scout tapped his fingers again.

Clay sighed heavily, but he buckled his seatbelt.

“Good boy.” Scout put the car in reverse.

His attention moved to driving while he looked for any reason to talk to Clay.

“Why don’t you like seatbelts? In this day and age, with all the knowledge we have, it’s kind of a dumbass move.

Not that I’m calling you dumb. We both know you’re not, so why make that choice? ”

“I’m not trying to be bullheaded. When I drive, I wear it.

” Heavy laughter laced Clay’s words. “I was in a bad car accident two years ago. Another guard and I were on an errand. A huge truck steered into our lane and hit us head-on. He was driving and uninjured. The seatbelt broke my collarbone. Now, when I wear one, it puts too much pressure on a spot that already hurts ninety percent of the time.”

“Is the seatbelt hurting right now?” Scout automatically glanced Clay’s way to check if he told the truth.

A small smile touched Clay’s lips. “Always.”

Scout pulled to the shoulder of the road and put the car in park. He didn’t hang around for any questions. Scout removed his shirt as he circled the car. The moment he opened Clay’s door, he expected to get the third degree. Instead, Clay sat quietly, looking like he trusted Scout completely.

Scout wrapped his shirt around the seatbelt, padding it right where it fell across Clay’s collarbone.

“I’ll get it back from you when we get to the airstrip.

” He purposely avoided Clay’s gaze, but he felt the man’s gorgeous hazel eyes eating him alive.

The moment Scout focused on Clay, the air froze in his lungs.

Clay’s gaze moved over Scout’s chest. His expression screamed he would do bad things to Scout and do them very well. When he met Scout’s stare, he didn’t look embarrassed to get caught ogling him. “Love the ink.”

“Thanks.” Scout straightened and closed the door.

Confusion ruled him. He was flustered. Scout never got bashful in any way.

Something about the way Clay looked at him was different.

He hadn’t learned how to deal with normal situations like this one.

Lust, he got. Even unrequited desire was in his wheelhouse, but there was something new when he was with Clay.

He didn’t know how to handle this. He climbed back behind the wheel.

“Thank you for this. It helps.”

The pressure in Scout’s chest eased. He was being ridiculous.

When he looked Clay’s way, he was back to being bewildered.

Clay was a sexy guy with his blond hair and full lips.

He had one dimple when he smiled, for fuck’s sake.

The man was irresistible. There was no reason Scout couldn’t manage him.

“I’ll buy you one of those seatbelt cushion things.”

Clay’s mouth lifted in one corner. That was it.

Scout was hard as stone. He had to get back to driving before he accidentally sprang.

Scout was named Scout for a reason. He had an eagle eye for details and nuances.

Clay was more complicated than most. Sometimes he seemed shy, and at other times, he looked like a man with a plan.

Like with the tattoo thing, Scout had no clue if Clay had been legit checking out his ink or if he had truly seen lust. Maybe he was seeing what he wanted.

Scout mused about it for the rest of the drive. At the privately run airport for personal jets, Scout parked inside the hangar where the guards indicated.

When he opened his door, Clay stopped him and handed him back his shirt. “Thanks for the ride.”

It hit Scout. Clay thought this was just Scout doing him a favor. “You know I’m coming with you, right? I’m the best at what I do. Beau asked me to go with you and make sure everything was totally secure.”

Clay’s closed expression gave nothing away. “Oh.” He climbed from the car.

Scout chuckled as he did the same. Maybe Clay confused him, but he heard the tone of that “oh.” Clay knew he was in danger, and he was right.