Chapter 8 Talbot
TALBOT
“Ihope you’re not following me because you think this is actually going to be a real relationship, Gumdrop.”
“Keep it down.” She looks around furtively then grabs the front of my motorcycle jacket.
“I’m warning you,” she snarls. “You need to stay the hell away from my family.”
I lean forward, flick my tongue out, and lick the tip of her nose.
She shrieks and slaps at my chest while I laugh.
I grab her hips, spin us around on the icy stone drive, and press her against the bike.
“Your family’s watching. They’re so worried about their little Misty. They don’t want their Victorian scullery maid to be whisked away by the war hero.”
“I bet you weren’t a hero.” She glares up at me.
“Damn right I wasn’t. No PTSD for your fake boyfriend.
I enjoy violence and chaos. I am the waking nightmare.
Shit, the last four combat tours, I was a mercenary.
Did their dirty jobs, the messy ones that the press doesn’t want a government employee to do.
And now I get to come home to this beautiful house and have a mildly attractive girl cook me dinner.
I’d say suck my dick, too, but you look like you bite and not in a fun way. ”
“You’re going to be sorry.” She’s stubborn. It’s annoying in a cute way.
“That I what? Made your whole family fall in love with me? Gumdrop, they’re eating out of the palm of my hand. It’s embarrassing to say, but they like me more than you.”
“GrandPam—argh!” She tangles her hands in her hair. “Grandma Pam isn’t.”
“She will be. And after I off Austen—”
“I will never—”
“Without your permission of course, because what are you going to say? This wonderful man, who is way out of my league, killed my ex?” I laugh.
“Gumdrop.” I circle my hands around her hips.
“When I off him, and I will because I always complete a mission, I’m going to make it look like you did it.
Just a little insurance policy for your family’s new golden boy. ”
“You’ll never get away with it,” she spits and tries to struggle away from me.
I hold her wrists. I’m up in her face now, mouth inches from hers.
“Yeah?” I blow a cloud of steam in her face.
“I’d ask if you want to bet, but I already have your money in my bank account, so I already know the answer.
” I tilt her chin up with the motorcycle glove.
“I believe you were going to get me a to-go plate.”
Behind her, the oversized front door to the mansion opens. Snow crunches, and Ryan West’s huge form is walking towards us.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt you kids.”
Even though I’m supposed to be a cold-blooded killer, I’m reduced to an excited ten-year-old in the presence of the Ryan West. The Christmas before my dad fled the country from the feds, he took me and my brothers to a Boston Harbor Hawks game.
Even let us get a soda and a hot dog. I remember thinking it was going to be the best Christmas ever.
Then, of course, the house burned down, and here we are—pretending to be some girl’s fake boyfriend so I can off a hockey star.
Austen sucks, though. He’s no Ryan West.
“We’re not doing anything important, sir.” I shove Misty to the side so I can bask in his presence.
“Guess I’ll get your to-go bag,” she grumbles.
“I want extra of those herb-roll things you made, Gumdrop. And can I have the rest of the chocolate pie? Also, bring Cocoa out so I can say goodbye to my child.”
Ryan West wears a bland smile on his face. It drops the second the front door closes behind Misty.
This is the guy that, through sheer force of will, carried what was considered the worst team in the league to three back-to-back Stanley Cup championships. Oh, and he wasn’t even old enough to drink.
I don’t know whether to piss myself or fall weeping at his feet.
“I need you to be straight with me, son.”
If he asks me if I’m a hired gun, I’m going to say yes and ask for his autograph then beg him to take me to prison.
“Do you really love Misty?”
Wait, what?
“Oh yeah. I mean, yes. Yessir, I do love your daughter.” It’s not convincing. I know it. He knows it.
I try again, widening my eyes like Hudson said, dropping my chin down. Submissive. Not a threat. Even though we’re the same height.
“Sir, I… your daughter is everything to me.” The lie slips out, quiet in the night. “She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met.” Hudson always says slip some truth into the lie. “She’s…”
The door opens. Misty’s coming out, carefully carrying a huge bag of food. Cocoa, in her sweater, follows.
“She is, I think, everything I’ve been searching for my entire life.” Did I hear that line in one of those romance movies Elsa’s always watching? Probably.
Ryan peers at me in the dark.
I try to meet his gaze but can’t help when my eyes slide over to Misty. Why can’t she just use the walkway? Why does she have to tramp in the snow? When she falls, I’m not going to run over and grab her.
“I want you to promise me you’ll take care of her.”
Is she also trying to pick up that dog?
…Aaannnndd now she’s slipping.
I shift my weight. Not that I’m going to go run after her. I don’t actually care. Probably would be cleaner if she wiped out, hit her head, and lost the memory of the last two days.
Ryan holds out his hand.
I take off my glove. Tear my eyes from Misty and meet his.
“Yes, sir, I swear on my life and my honor.” I signed both of those away already, sooo he’ll have to get in line behind the devil, Hudson Wynter, and the US government. “I’ll take care of her.”
He gives me a crushing handshake. “I believe you mean that.”
For the first time in my professional career, my actions make me feel like a piece of shit. But I shake his hand anyway, because I always finish my mission.
“Here’s your food. Granny Keagan made eggnog. You need to put it in the fridge. There are instructions for how to heat everything up.” Her tone is begrudging.
I lean down. She’ll punch me in the nuts if I kiss her, so I settle for nuzzling her hair. “You’re too good to me.”
“Not that you deserve it,” she hisses in my ear.