CHAPTER THIRTEEN
JORDAN
Last night’s late shift transitioned into an extremely early pick-up shift at the coffee house. Both Seven and I were bleary eyed as we raced down the stairwell that morning—it was a tie. I needed extra espresso at work and even comped Seven’s Earl Grey. I caught his eye too many times across the coffee shop as he worked on his laptop, curiosity burning through me.
“Admit it,” Mitchell hissed in my ears as he caught me lingering by the sugar and creamer station. “You and Mr. Bodyguard are dating.”
I turned, startled. Mitchell wore a haughty smirk as he dropped off a sani-bucket full of cleaning liquid.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I’d been careful to dance around the topic of my having a bodyguard at the coffee shop. At Gemstones, they knew Seven as a protector type, but not here. Seven just had the vibe.
“You two show up together, leave together. You probably live together.”
My cheeks heated up. With the rotating shifts at the coffee shop, not every coworker noticed that Seven was always lurking during my shifts. But Mitchell had been eying Seven from day one. I sure as hell wouldn’t tell him—or anyone—what was happening under the surface. Admitting I lived with Seven now would just raise a billion follow-up questions: He’s paid to protect you? Who’s paying for that? What kind of family needs to protect you from something? Protect you from what? What family did you say you’re part of again?
How could I answer? Even I didn’t know what the hell was going on. I’d just had a heartwarming family dinner with my brothers a few nights ago. Seven felt like both hired protector and impossibly sexy best friend. Nothing made sense.
“We’ve been…talking.” That was at least easier to admit than the tangled truth.
Mitchell gasped, his hand shooting out to grab my arm. “Shut up!”
“It’s new,” I said. “Kinda hush-hush.”
“Oh my god, I won’t say a word.” He mimed zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key. “But tell me, how is the sex?”
I laughed, my cheeks flaming now. I could see Seven across the room, and his gaze—electric hot and tender—met mine. It was as if he knew what we were talking about.
“I need to get back to work,” I said, suddenly feeling dizzy.
“I want details, missy,” Mitchell said over his shoulder as he sauntered back behind the counter. “When you’re ready.”
I’d never be ready. Getting vulnerable with people was about the hardest thing in the world for me to do. Once my brothers fucked off to New York and then Kaylee died, I shut down more than ever. There had been too much grief and confusion for me to process back then, but the inability to open up became a habit as a result. A familiar tool—or weapon—when things got too hard.
Other girls my age, with my history, might have shared their story with anyone who would listen. They might have sought boyfriend after boyfriend to fill the void in their hearts and between their legs. Kaylee had been that way. But my pain pushed me in the opposite direction.
I’d been chronically single since the pivotal moments in my early adulthood taught me that I was better off alone. I’d had a fucked-up childhood, but even I knew that boyfriends weren’t supposed to push themselves on you or into you when you said no.
My stomach took a nosedive as familiar feelings crowded my body. Prickling forearms. Sweaty palms. A deep and insistent urge to disappear entirely. And all of this because I merely considered the idea of admitting the truth to Mitchell.
I found Seven’s gaze across the coffee shop again, and this time he looked concerned. He pushed up out of his seat and crossed the room in a few powerful strides. He was at my side a moment later, neck bent to seek out my gaze.
“Are you okay?”
I tried to soothe the warring sensations inside me. Insinuating to Mitchell that I was dating had catalyzed this chain reaction. Even lying about having a boyfriend was too much for me.
But Seven’s presence at my side was the balm to soothe the turmoil.
“You looked like you were going to fall over,” Seven said.
“I’m fine,” I forced out, my lips dry. “I, uh…” I brought a hand to my forehead, rubbing my fingertips back and forth.
“Did he say something to you?”
I swallowed hard, opening my mouth but no sound coming out.
“Do I need to go have a talk with him?” His voice held an edge that suggested exactly what “a talk” might mean.
I laughed weakly. “No. He’s fine. It was innocent. It just…sparked something in me that I…struggle with.”
The words clattered inside my head. Why didn’t I write it off as something else? Being too tired? Working too late the night before? I looked up and found Seven’s gaze. The tenderness there nearly cracked me in two.
“You need anything?” He squeezed my arm gently, heat spreading through me. It might as well have been a hug for how intimate it felt.
“I’m fine.” Emotion swelled inside me like a tidal wave, and my chin trembled as I tried to shove all the feelings back down. Seven must have seen right through it because he gripped my chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“You need to go have a good cry in the corner?”
The suggestion prompted a big burst of laughter, which helped my insides stabilize a little. The corner of his mouth turned up.
“I’ll be fine. I promise.” I took a deep breath, turning to the sani-bucket. “They should call you Mother Hen instead of Seven.”
“Who are ‘they’?” he asked, a genuine smile covering his face. It stunned me in the way sudden sunlight during a thunderstorm can stop someone in their tracks. My heart plummeted to my feet, tingles swarming my limbs.
“You know, anyone who has to refer to you,” I teased.
“Be sure to put out a memo.” He laughed as he said it. I tried not to sigh and stare dreamily as he retreated. Mitchell leaned across the counter near the registers, sending me a dramatically loud Psst.
“Just talking, am I right?” He sent me a stage wink.
If me humping Seven in the VIP room made things murky and strange, then his offer to let me cry with him in a corner was something of a balance.
I didn’t want to fuck things up again, but the more emotionally open I was with him, the more desperate I was to see his cock. There was a distinct correlation. Who was I to challenge it?
When we returned to his apartment after my coffee shop shift that afternoon, we each went our separate ways. I took a quick nap in my room, and when I emerged just before dinnertime, Seven rushed around the kitchen like he was in a hurry.
I had to blink a few times, unsure if I was really seeing things correctly.
He wasn’t in his standard attire. He wore charcoal gray slacks, which fit in such a way that looked like he planned to attend a men’s fashion show, paired with a white, short sleeve polo that hugged his pecs and strained to encompass his biceps. I could only stare as he pulled out a pre-mixed protein shake and took a quick chug.
“What are you doing?” I asked, without even realizing.
He turned to look at me, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He placed the shake back in the fridge and then cleared his throat. “Just getting ready.”
“Getting ready?” I challenged. “I thought you’d been brought into the world that way.”
He didn’t take the bait, another sign something was off.
“I mean…this.” I gestured to his outfit as I drifted toward the kitchen island. He was wearing different clothes for God’s sake. When I got closer, I caught a faint whiff of his manly cologne. All I wanted to do was wrap my arms around his chest and settle into the warmth there. My knees nearly buckled.
“My clothes?” His brow arched. “I have plans tonight.”
My brows drew together and confusion settled on top of me like a storm cloud descends before a tornado. “What?”
“Yeah. I do things on occasion, Jordan. It may surprise you, but I do have a life.” He flashed a humorless smile. “I have a different protection officer coming over to fill in for tonight. He’ll be here shortly so you can get to know him a little before I leave.”
Everything that he’d just said felt like steel wool against my skin. Different officer? Plans tonight? No and no.
“Were you planning on informing me of any of this?” I spat out. The way my heart thudded against my ribcage told me my reaction was on the dramatic side.
“I’m informing you now,” he said coolly.
I tried to think of some good reason why his plan didn’t—couldn’t—work, but I came up with nothing. He was allowed to do things away from me. I just hated that it bothered me so much. Why does this bother you? Aren’t you supposed to be moving out and moving on from Seven and your brothers? This is what you want!
Except it wasn’t what I wanted. Because as a knock sounded on the door and Seven said, “There he is now,” I realized what was actually bothering me.
Seven was going on a date.
He was going out to meet a woman, and I couldn’t fucking stand the idea.
My brain whirred so loudly I barely noticed when Seven opened the door and warmly greeted the replacement. I missed his name entirely, finally remembering to yank myself back to the present when a tall, youngish-looking guy was suddenly in front of me, offering me his hand.
“I’m Chico. Nice to meet you, Jordan.”
I blinked at his hand, and then took it quickly. With almost jet back hair, longish and parted on the side, he looked like Seven’s younger, unrefined brother. Hardly the type to yank someone like Dustin off me during an attack at three a.m.
“So you’re the replacement?” I asked.
Chico laughed softly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I am. I’m looking forward to working with you.”
“What are your qualifications?” I snapped.
“He’s been vetted,” Seven interjected, stepping forward. Next to Chico, Seven loomed. Chico was probably six feet tall or close, but next to Seven’s bulky girth and massive biceps, he looked like a teenager.
“Four years active duty, army,” Chico said, undeterred. “Two years reserve, four years working in the personal protection business in the Maryland area. I can provide a list of former clients if interested.”
“Do you have a gun on you?” I crossed my arms.
“No, ma’am,” Chico replied.
“I asked him not to pack,” Seven offered. “Here in the apartment, for my quick night out, you two will be fine. Besides, he’ll be briefed on the necessary information, in the event that an emergency response is required.”
I had no more hard-hitting questions to ask Chico that wouldn’t reveal the jealous rift in my heart growing larger by the second. So instead, I turned my attention to Seven. “Where are you going?”
“Out.”
I sniffed. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’m going out, Jordan. I’m having dinner with someone.” He sent me a warning look, then shifted his gaze to Chico, tipping his head to the side. “Chico, come with me. I’ll show you around.”
Someone. Code for another woman, no doubt. I glared at Seven’s back as he led Chico toward the hallway. Seven was perfectly within his rights to take a night off or go do something away from me. But with another woman? I swallowed the bitter tang of jealousy. I needed a game plan—I just didn’t know whatit would be.
I made myself a quick sandwich while Chico and Seven had their little talk in the back.
When they emerged, Seven was peering at his watch. “All right, I better head out.” My stomach twisted. “You two take it easy. Order in if you want. Usually this is a rest day for her anyway after the club shifts all weekend.”
I frowned. Him explaining my scheduleto this man-child—who was probably close to my own age but still, I refused to see Chico as anything other than a boy right now—grated on me.
“Sounds good. I think we can take it from here,” Chico said confidently.
“Awesome. I’ll see you guys later.” Seven sent a quick smile toward Chico and reached for a khaki sport coat that he’d draped over the back of the armchair. He slipped it on as he strode to the door, pausing on his way to lean toward me and say, “I need you to behave.”
I whipped around to stare him in the eye. “What could that possibly mean?”
“Just be nice,” he said in a low voice. “Don’t scare the talent away.”
He bridged the remaining distance to the door, and I followed him. “The talent? I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Are you starting a business or something?”
He sent me a stern look and pulled open the door, walking through without answering my damn question. “Be good.” When the door thudded shut behind him, I expelled a sigh. This felt wrong, and I hated that I couldn’t fully explain why.
All I knew was that it violated the strange code of conduct Seven and I had established.
“So he’s your boss, huh?” I asked Chico, resuming my previous task in the kitchen: eating my damn sandwich. Except now it was flavorless and dull. I wanted to be anywhere other than here right now.
“Sure is.” He came to the island, an easygoing grin on his face. “I’m still in the trial period with him, but I hope to be full-time by the end of it.”
Full-time? Doing what? I bit angrily into my sandwich, trying to piece together what was unfolding in front of me without looking like the ignoramus left in the dark. Because that’s what I clearly was—left behind. Out of the loop. The only one who didn’t fucking know what was going on.
“How long does the trial period last?” I asked as casually as I could muster.
“Until it’s clear if I’m a good fit to work with him.”
There was even more I didn’t know. This wasn’t a one-off replacement guard who I’d meet once and never see again. This was a whole organized effort. How could Seven keep this from me? Not only was I jealous that he was going out on a date with some unknown woman who was probably desperate to spread her legs for him—because who wouldn’t be?—now I was also hurt because Seven had been keeping his whole entire life from me—including some mysterious expansion that he needed a second guard for.
And here I was, the idiot opening up to him. Sharing my heart with him, wanting to get closer. The hurt lashed so deeply that I almost couldn’t see straight. I focused on eating my sandwich for a few moments, trying to calm the inner storm.
“So do you know where Seven’s heading tonight?” I tried to sound relaxed, but I suspected even the new guy could hear the strain in my voice.
“He didn’t say exactly where,” Chico said diplomatically. “But if we need him for anything, I’m sure we’ll be able to get ahold of him.”
“Hm.” I took another bite, my mind working overtime. It was Sunday—not exactly prime date night, but in a city that never slept, any day was as good as another for dating.
My mind raced as I pieced together a plan. Seven wouldn’t tell me his whereabouts, and neither would Chico. But I bet someone else would.
And once I found out where that place was, well, it seemed like the perfect night for a date of my own.
“It’s kind of silly for someone with such extensive training as yourself to be stuck babysitting, don’t you think?” I glanced up at Chico, drawing invisible patterns over the countertop with my finger. “I mean, that’s pretty much what this is. You’re just being my babysitter tonight.”
“Well, I’d call it more than babysitting.” He offered a warm smile. “You’re an important person who needs protected.”
“Sure.” I gnawed on the inside of my lip as I weighed my next words. “But what if we…I don’t know…did something?”
Chico’s brows drew together. “Like what?”
“Well, it’s my off night, and I usually don’t do much, but after the nap I had, I’m going stir-crazy.” My heart thumped as I wondered if he’d see through my plan.
He shrugged. “Whatever you want. I’m here to make sure you’re safe, whatever it is that you need to do.”
I flashed him a pretty smile. “Love to hear it, Chico. You’re rapidly becoming my favorite guy around here. And so cute, too. Let me go get ready and we can head out, ‘kay?”
I could have sworn a little blush stained his cheeks as I winked at him. I knew how to work the crowd so he wouldn’t suspect what this was really about.
I drifted off to my bedroom, ready to enact the next pieces of my plan. I started with a quick text to Roxie: Girl are you up for an impromptu girls night? I have a plan and I need help…
Then, I tapped the resource I knew would be most willing to help me: my brothers.
I was aware of how underhanded this seemed. I didn’t want to play the I’m you’re wittle sister card, but I needed this intel about Seven more than I needed air. If anybody could squeeze the needed info out of Seven, it was his fucking employers.
I shot off a quick text to Damian:
JORDAN: Hey, random Q, but…is there any way you could reach out to Seven and ask him where he’s at tonight? He’s on a much-deserved night off and I want to send him a little surprise as a thank you. But he can’t know I’m asking!!! I just need the address. Can you help me??
Damian didn’t know my surprise would be me, in a skintight little black dress, ready to crash whatever date Seven thought he was going on.
Damian’s response was lightning fast: On it, little sis. Hang tight.
Roxie’s response came next: Girl I was just wanting to text you about going out but thought better of it because it’s Sunday LOL. Where we going and what’s the scoop?
Everything was falling into place.
Everything except the biggest piece of the puzzle: the irrepressible truth of my attraction to Seven.