“I need someone I can trust on the task,” I added. “We need Cointreau, too. I’m out, and we have to make Cosmos.”
“Do you?”
“Definitely. And,” I confessed, “I think I need to not be around you twenty-four-seven.”
He looked at me for a long moment… and there it was. The lines of his face softened with compassion.
And damn, that look could really do a girl in.
I looked away.
“I’ll go get it,” he said. “As soon as one of my guys gets here to cover for me.”
“Great.”
I hesitated, almost chickening out. But then I dug into the pocket of my jacket and fished out the spare garage door opener. I held it out to him. “You can park your bike in the garage when you get back.”
He looked at the door opener, then took it, slowly.
“I mean, if you want to,” I added. His eyes met mine and I shrugged. “It’s October. It’s gonna rain eventually.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome.” I smiled a little. “Would it be pushing it to ask you to hit a dispensary, too? We need weed.”
He actually rolled his eyes a bit. “Fine.”
I hopped a little. “Yay! I’ll give you a list of what we want.”
Then I ran back into the house, and I could’ve sworn I felt him smiling behind my back.
Chapter Twelve
Ronan
The next day I was awake early, though not as early as usual. Somewhere around seven-thirty I was up and ready to get to work.
I found Summer’s kitchen and living room a mess in the aftermath of last night’s party, but her cleaning lady showed up at eight o’clock, right on time. I let her in when she knocked and gave her the new key. I’d already had my team run a quick check on her, and I’d talked to her on the phone to fill her in on the new drill.
She was friendly and amenable, and seemed genuinely concerned about Summer’s safety. And she did indeed sing while she washed the dishes. I could hear her from my room.
I hadn’t heard anything from Summer yet this morning, but she didn’t seem to be much of a morning person. And no wonder, given the nocturnal life she seemed to lead.
I hadn’t gotten much sleep myself. The party went late and I’d stayed up, watching over things until the last guest left around three a.m.. As did Summer.
And Andre.
I’d let him go once the house cleared out, and he’d pretty much begged me to “find out which of Summer’s hot friends might need a bodyguard” and get him the gig.
“It doesn’t work that way,” I’d told him as I was nudging him out the door.
“Since when? Just slip them some cards. You never know who might call, needing her body guarded.” That statement was punctuated with an eyebrow waggle.
“I’m not assigning you to a client you’ve got a crush on,” I informed him.
“Wow,” he said. “Never would’ve pegged you for a hypocrite, brother.”
Obviously, he was inferring my relationship with my own client and the fact that I’d assigned myself to her detail. Maybe he’d picked up on the fact that I was attracted to her.
But that was different.
Wasn’t it?
I’d thought about it last night and this morning, but I still wasn’t sure.
Have a nice ride.
That’s what she’d said to me yesterday, just before I got on my bike to head to the liquor store for her. I knew she was a natural flirt; that much was obvious. I’d seen her in action last night, at her party.
But I was still trying to read between the lines of everything she said to me. And when she’d walked me out to the driveway and watched me get on my bike, her eyes had a lot to say.
Did she like motorcycles?
Did she want to go for a ride on mine?
Nope. Bad idea.
Client. Only.
You do not take hot clients for rides on your bike.
Get your head in the fucking game.
With every passing hour, it seemed to be getting harder to be sure of what my motivations were. Which actions I was taking based on instinct, experience and professional concern for my client’s safety… and those I might be taking because of my growing attraction to her.
Because I was definitely starting to take those actions.
Eating meals with her when I didn’t need to. Getting to know her on a personal level.
Undressing her with my eyes every time I thought I could get away with it.
Running to the liquor store and the weed dispensary to pick up party favors for her, just because she’d asked me to, while gently pleading with those pale-blue eyes.
I think I need to not be around you twenty-four-seven.
What the hell did that mean?
She didn’t want to need my services; I knew that. But was this whole situation getting complicated for her, like it was for me?
Because for me, it was fucking complicated. And I wasn’t even sure how or why or when that had started.
Did it start from moment one, as soon as I walked into her house?
Or sometime later?
Was it before or after I decided I was taking this assignment?
I tried to focus on my workload, get organized for the day. Focus on much more important questions that needed answering.
But it was fucking bothering me, this second-guessing my own intentions.
When I checked my phone, I had a message from Jude. He’d called early this morning to check in. I wasn’t sure if he was checking in because he’d heard about my conversation with Piper, or if he was checking on the restraining order situation, or both. But I called him back.
“I had a nice visit from your brother the other day,” I told him as soon as I got him on the phone. Might as well get right to it.
“Yeah? How’d that go?”
“He told me if I see Sanchuk around, to report to him first. That what you want me to do?”
Jude was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Yeah. Let the Kings
