22. Gunner #3
“I’ll be available by email only, but I want you to try to condense them. Instead of a hundred emails, send me one with the important stuff collated. If something needs immediate attention, send me a text. I’ll check that.” I look up to Libby. “Good?”
She grins. “Good.”
I turn back to Annaliese. “Do not call me unless you’re literally on fire.
And even then, probably call the fire department.
I don’t want my phone to ring once. And I’m blocking all texts but yours.
If you text and force me to read it, it better be important, or I’ll set you on fire.
Other than that, email. I’ll read and reply to those periodically through the day. Morning, noon, and night.”
“Morning and night.” Lib flashes a wide grin when we glance over to her. “Please.”
I shrug. “Okay, morning and night. So make it important, and delegate everything you can delegate.”
“Yes, sir. Want me to have the house set up? Marianne can come in this afternoon and stock the kitchen.”
“No servants,” Libby coughs.
Chuckling, I toss the hacky sack from one hand to the other.
“No, we’re not going to the house anyway.
We’re going to the cabin, but I don’t want you to tell anyone where we’ll be.
Let the staff think I’m right here. Let Olly know where I am, but other than that, it’s on lockdown.
If… uh…” I look to Libby and swallow my nerves.
“If anyone with the name Bishop calls here, tell them to call my cell. I’ll take their calls…
” I look away when she gives an encouraging smile.
“Maybe. I’ll see how I feel at the time. But don’t tell them I’m away.”
“Yes, sir. And if the detectives want to speak with you about Zhang?”
“They can suck my cock and wait until we get back. I am not a part of Zhang’s dealings, and we’ve been more than accommodating with the cops on that.
” Lib chuckles when the word cop comes out on an almost hiss.
“They can wait, and I will not be taking their calls. If they need something, send it in an email, I’ll read it in my allocated screen time. ”
I smile when Libby chuckles. She’s pretending to be fully immersed in her task, but her smile and bouncing shoulders say she has absolutely no idea what’s on her screen.
Unfortunately for her, I know what’s on her screen, because it feeds through to mine.
She absentmindedly scrolls through gift-shop knick-knacks. Flowers. Teddies. Baby clothes. It makes my heart sigh when she clicks on a twin set of dresses. You would think she’d settle on the flowers, or the rainbows, or the unicorns.
But does she?
No. She stops on the matching red dresses with little white dinosaurs. One click, two, ‘ do you want to confirm your purchase ?’
Yes. She sends my heart and a bouquet of flowers over the internet to be delivered to the hospital while those baby girls are merely twenty-four hours old, and when she feels my stare, she glances up and meets my eyes.
“All done. Can we go now?”
“Thank you.” I look to the image on my screen and stare for a moment longer.
Both women watch me. One wears a smile and adoring eyes, and the other looks like she’s worried for my mental stability.
In all these years, Annaliese has never seen me act so…
well… like Gunner, instead of Theo. “And yes, we can go.” I don’t bother opening my emails like I’d intended when I sat down.
I can check those later, and Annaliese has full access, so if there was something I needed to see, she would have led with that.
Switching the computer off again, I stand tall and grin when Lib tosses the tablet aside with a happy squeak and slides straight under my arm when I lift it.
I pull her into my side and luxuriate in the way she fits herself to me without hesitation.
There was a mere second of uncertainty in the past few weeks, but once we made the decision we were in, it happens just like that.
We’re in, and that means there’s no room for anything but us.
Because we don’t want to be seen heading out, Lib and I ride the private elevator up to my apartment so I can pack bags.
There’s a large part of me that enjoys showing my world off to her.
My apartment is massive and luxurious, the view is amazing – to anyone but her.
I’ve considered telling the world that we’re heading to the cabin, only to actually stay here, but the way Lib turns green at the view outside my living room windows makes me reconsider.
We’re going to the tiny cabin hidden in the forest three hours from here.
I move through my things with practiced moves, pack a case, toss every electronic away except one cell, one laptop, and one tablet.
It’s the best I can do. It’s the minimum my brain can handle, so I tuck those into one laptop bag, and when I’m done, I head into my open-plan living space to find her looking in my refrigerator.
Tight jeans cup her ass, and strong shoulders flex as she holds on to the freezer door. She’s so short that the handle for the freezer is in line with her face.
“You good?” I ask her back.
“You eat way too much turkey, Gun–” She stops, closes the door, and turns to me. “ Griffin . Way too much turkey. Don’t you feel bad for being the reason all those birds died?”
“You’d rather I killed more chickens? Are those birds more deserving of death?
” I place my bags on the end of my L-shaped couch and continue forward until I can circle the counter and pull her against my chest. I tease her for being short, I complain of a sore neck and her inability to reach things up high, but I’m so in love with her exactly the way she is.
She’s compact and stronger than any woman I know.
She’s capable, and short or not, she doesn’t make me nervous for her safety.
Not while she’s here, anyway. Being on shift at work is a whole other story that I’m not sure how I’ll handle.
“I’m ready to go.”
“Yeah?” She reaches up and wraps her arms around my neck. “We’re stopping at the store on the way there, right?”
“Right. No servants, which means we buy groceries and cook for ourselves.”
“And no turkey…” she pauses. “Right?”
“Turkey is cheap, Elizabeth! Can you shut up about the turkey?”
“It’s gross. I like real turkey. Like, the actual bird at Thanksgiving, with the drumstick and stuffing and sides. But you buy ground, leftover meat they find on the factory floor. Of course it’s cheap! It’s leftover shit. How can you stomach that?”
“Does it bother you that you never grew since you were nine?”
“Ugh!” She pulls back and slams her fist into my chest hard enough to rob the oxygen from my lungs. “I am five and a half feet tall. That’s not short. It is perfectly average. Google it!”
“You’re five-three and three quarters at the most . Don’t lie, Elizabeth. I’ll get the ruler out if I have to.”
“I hate ground turkey,” she growls. “And I hate you. I could solve all of my problems if I pushed you into the machine that grinds that meat up.”
“But then who would snuggle you at night?” Chuckling, I pull her in and bark out a laugh when she slams her fist into my stomach. “Are you sure a week alone is a good idea? We might not come out alive.”
“I’ll be fine. But you definitely should be scared.” She pulls away, but only to snatch a green apple from the crystal bowl on the end of my counter, and crossing my living room, she stops at the elevator doors. “I’m ready to go. Even if I hate you, I still wanna go.”
“Hey, Libby?” I pass my couch and snatch up my bags, then meet her at the elevator door as it dings open.
“Hmm?” This elevator is much smaller than the others in my building. Those can carry twelve people at a time. This one barely fits two, so we cram in close together, and when the doors shut again, I take up all of Libby’s space so she’s crushed against the side.
I press my chest to hers, my thighs to hers, and finally, my lips to hers. “This is gonna be great.”
“Probably gonna hate each other by the end of the week.”
I smile and nibble on her lips. “But what if it goes the other way? What if we have the most amazing time and you agree to be mine forever?”
The beauty of being this close means I can feel when her heart gives a heavy thud. “I kinda already agreed to that.”
“Yeah?” I give one more nip of her lips as the elevator doors ding open in the dark parking garage. “Forever?”
“Despite my common sense and all the alarms ringing in my brain that you’re probably gonna be a terrible husband, it would seem I’m stuck.”
“Your husband ?” I pull back with wide eyes. “Whoa, Elizabeth. We’ve only just met. You’re gonna scare me off with this commitment talk.”
“I hate you.” She shoves me off so hard that I drop my suitcase, then pushing out of the elevator, she stalks into the unknown and frowns at the fleet of cars awaiting us. “Which one is yours?”
“All of them.” I stop beside her and laugh when she looks up with a filthy glare.
“Oh, you mean which one are we taking today?” Juggling my bags, I take a set of keys from my pocket and beep open the black Range Rover three along in the row.
I don’t bother taking her hand or leading her there.
She’s too independent for that, so I walk ahead and toss my things into the trunk.
Libby already packed her bags, so I jog to the car Olly drove us here in and take them from the trunk, then I toss them onto mine and laugh when, instead of sliding into the luxurious vehicle, Lib folds her arms and lifts a brow. “Do you wanna know what I think?”
“It’s a high possibility I don’t. No doubt you’re gonna tear me apart with your words.
” I open her door, and grab her elbow when she refuses to move.
I lead her in, help her climb up, and when she settles into the soft leather and makes a soft groan at the back of her throat, I laugh and jog around to my side.
As soon as I climb in, I turn to her and lift a brow. “What, Libby? What do you think?”