Chapter Six
SAVEA
I was pretty sure they took a walk clear across the county. They'd been gone for almost an hour.
And I—pathetic, time-noticing me—had been acutely aware of each passing moment.
As I desperately pretended not to be watching the clock as I flipped through magazines in the sitting area, eyes not noticing anything on the actual pages.
They could have been trying to sell me eye cream or butt plugs and I wouldn't have known.
Nixon moved around, his thumping footsteps as he went. I knew him to be capable of walking almost silently. Whether he was stomping about because of something that was bothering him work-wise or just to announce to me where he was at all times, I didn't know.
He had to be getting tired of babysitting me, but he stayed uncharacteristically tight-lipped about those feelings if he had them.
Maybe Kingston was paying him to do it.
And, well, it didn't sit right with me being someone else's job.
Even as the thought formed, I snapped the magazine closed, slapping it back down on the table. My body had just knifed off the couch when the lock slid, the alarm started to beep.
Kingston stepped inside, focus immediately going to the keypad to plug in the code before the company called, his hand automatically releasing Paddy's leash, leaving him free to bound toward me, going up on his back thighs to place muddy paws on my legs, tongue lapping at the exposed skin on my arm.
"Oh, you had a good walk, huh?" I asked, rubbing his soft head as his tail threatened to propellor off his butt.
"We took a walk through the woods," King's voice informed me, moving closer as I pretended loving on Padfoot required all my attention.
"Did you smell all the bunnies and the squirrels and the chipmunks?" I asked, suddenly hyper-aware of my puppy-voice as Kingston moved into the sitting area, body towering over mine.
"Hannibal nearly ripped Scotti's arm off," he told me.
"Yeah, he needs the correction right when you walk out the door, or he gets too into his own head to control. It's why Peyton tends to bring him to the dog park instead of taking a hike with him. Well, that and I think Peyton is allergic to the very idea of hiking."
"Oh, finally," Nixon declared, waving a piece of paper in his hand.
"Got a new client," he told King without giving him a chance to say anything.
"Don't worry. I will go have the meeting," he said, tone pointed, insinuation clear.
"I'm assuming you won't need any more assistance with Savea tonight," he added on his way out the door, making a low, unexpected growling noise move through Kingston and, judging by the heat in my neck and cheeks, a blush to creep over my skin.
"He's always a little surly," I started, wanting to change the subject before it actually started to get awkward. "But I think having to take time out to watch over me is making him grumpier than usual."
"It's fine," King rushed to say, clearly not wanting to make me feel like a burden even if his brother felt free to imply as much. "He's been working more than usual. I think he is struggling with whether he wants to make this his full-time gig, or move on and find his own niche."
"Well, I think he'd be good at this. One of those glares of his will scare away any of the stalkers and overzealous fans or whoever else you guys are hired to keep away."
"That's what I told him," Kingston agreed, lips twitching. "So, I was thinking Chinese for dinner. I know they have veg..." His voice trailed off to the ringing on the main desk.
"Get it. It might be important," I added, watching as he struggled with himself for a second before moving across the room, catching the phone on what must have been the final ring.
"Rivers Securit... okay. Alright. Take a breath. Are you sure it was him? Okay. Yeah. Do you see him now? No. It's okay. I will swing by, keep an eye for a while. Make sure it wasn't him. Or if it was, that he doesn't come back. Okay? Alright. I will be there in ten."
"I'll be fine," I told him as soon as he placed the phone back into the cradle. "Seriously. Go. Padfoot and I will be safe here."
"No."
"Well, Nixon is busy. And Rush is probably at work now.
I can call and see if maybe Peyton can ask Sugar if I can hang out at the bike compound?
" I suggested. "I would be safe as can be there.
" The place literally had a safe full of guns and more than a dozen people trained how to use them.
Plus, the rumor was that the leader of the MC had a tank. An actual tank.
"No," he said again, tone a little clipped as he turned, stalked back into his office. There was a crashing sound, a muffled curse, then the door opening again, bringing out Kingston with a hat in his hand. "You'll come with me," he told me.
I won't lie. There was a little belly shiver at the alpha edge to his voice.
Which he then softened when he pressed the hat into his hand as his arms raised, going to my shoulders, swiping my hair back.
I, stupidly, wistfully, thought he was going to kiss me again, the idea making my chin lift, my eyes seek his.
His met mine, something there, something deep, but also wholly unreadable, gone before I could even try to interpret it as his hands then gathered my hair, gently twisting it in his hands, then pinning it to the top and back of my head, reaching for the hat, pressing it down to trap the hair, the visor pulled down low enough to obstruct some of my vision.
"And put this on," he instructed, moving away only to come back a moment later with one of his zipper-up hoodies in an Army green color, this time handing it to me instead of putting it on himself.
In fact, he moved several feet away. Like he needed space.
Like, maybe, he needed control. Not to rip my clothes off instead of letting me pile them on.
But that, I suspected, was pure wishful thinking on my part.
"Are we bringing Paddy too?" I asked as he sat down beside me, head angled up, watching me expectantly.
"Yeah. He's a pretty decent stakeout buddy. We're going to have to postpone dinner for a while," he told me as we moved toward the door, tone apologetic
Ignoring the grumbling feeling in my belly, I shrugged it off, following him to his car.
The ten-minute drive was full of an excruciating silence, only occasionally broken by Padfoot's whine because I had strapped him into his harness so he could wear his seatbelt—something I had insisted Kingston buy when he brought Paddy in the store the first time, giving him perhaps too much detail about what could (and often did) happen to a dog who was in a car without a harness and seatbelt.
It kind of gave me a warm, gooey sensation when I opened the door to put Paddy in and saw it there, all ready for use.
"Just another minute, buddy," I told him as the SUV drove up over the bridge that would lead to the beach, the sun setting on it, basking it in beautiful pinks and purples.
Every bit of me itched to get out, walk it, feel those first kisses of warm weather.
But Kingston kept driving, only turning in near the wall with the private access points, going down into a small neighborhood lined with houses I would never earn enough money to live in, parking near the end of the road.
"Your client lives here?" I asked, needing to hear something else other than Paddy's panting and the scratch of his nails on the seat.
"She lives in the townhouses across the street," he said, pointing to the brand new upscale homes that I still would never be able to afford, the kind of house that allowed you to walk down your back steps and directly onto the sand.
"But there is nowhere to park there without looking suspicious.
Even in the off-season, the cops around here are ridiculous. "
That was fair enough. I'd gotten pulled over on the main drag when I was a teenager, back before I realized that in the on-season, they changed the predictable speed limit to ten miles-per-hour lower.
I still suspected it was done solely to rack up tickets than for the supposed need to do so to protect foot traffic.
"Was she sure it was him?" I asked as King cut the engine, gaze fixed pointedly forward.
"No. She just caught a glance. But her stalker is slick. He can sneak in and out easily, barely ever being seen. It could have been him."
I turned to curl over between the front seats to free Padfoot at the exact moment Kingston's body curled forward across toward my seat to open the glove box. The awkward coincidence making my boobs graze his arm as I turned.
Maybe it was a bit embarrassing to admit—but it was the truth whether it made me uncomfortable or not—but my nipples tweaked hard at the firm contact, something I prayed happened after my body finished brushing his and not when he could feel it.
He clearly didn't want to talk about the kiss.
It had been impulsive.
And, obviously, regrettable.
I tried, but ultimately failed, to convince myself that a realization such as that didn't crush my pride to dust inside.
Taking a deep breath, I turned back, finding Kingston looking every bit the private security expert with his giant, professional binoculars to his eyes, stoically still, breathing even, lost in his own world.
He said nothing.
And since I had nothing to play off of—and I didn't want to be a pest while he was working—I said nothing either.
My head rested against the panel behind the window, looking off at the quiet suburban street.
Worrying about hamsters and parakeets in order not to think about the man beside me, the way the air in the car felt charged, the way I was going to have to go home with him eventually, climb into bed with him again.
And just sleep. When everything within me wanted to do infinitely more.
I didn't even realize I was tired enough to fall asleep until I felt a hand close around my thigh, jarring me awake, my breath snorting inward in a rather humiliating way that made Kingston's lips curl upward, his eyes soft.