Page 87 of Protecting his Secrets

“Could we have the tapas buffet, please? I do have a peanut allergy, though.”

“Good choice. Anything else?”

Malachi ordered some drinks and said goodbye. “Please tell me you like tapas.”

Nick grinned. “You just found another way to my heart, gorgeous. I love tapas.”

He found himself a little nervous as they approached his door. Malachi’s opinion held a lot of weight, and he hoped he liked the place. If nothing else, he had to love the TV—everyone loved the TV.

Nick busied himself in the kitchen area while Malachi looked around because, if he went with him, he’d probably harass him for his thoughts. He grabbed some plates and two glasses of water, putting them on the breakfast bar, and flicked the kettle on for a hot drink.

“Holy shit! How big?” he heard from the distance, and he grinned.

“I love this place,” Malachi said, settling at the bar and resting his head in his palm. “It’s surprisingly quiet. I was expecting noise from the neighbours.”

“I’m lucky. We have some great tenants here at the moment, and they’re all conscientious about noise and things like that.”

“That’s fantastic, but no parties for you, then.” Malachi grinned.

Nick held up his hand. “Woah, don’t go that far. We have parties, we just make sure we invite everyone, and then we don’t need to worry about the noise.”

Malachi snorted. “Trust you to think of a way around it.”

“I live to please.” He groaned. “I do need to get the finishing touches to George’s party done, though.”

Malachi gaped at him. “You told Brett it was all sorted!”

“It is. Mostly.”

“You are going to be in so much trouble. What do you have left to do?”

Nick sipped his coffee and went through his list. “I need hundreds of balloons inflating. I also need the cake.”

“You haven’t got a cake yet?”

Nick held up his hand. “I did have a cake sorted, and then the people cancelled on me. I tried to find someone else, but then all this happened.”

Malachi shook his head and picked up Nick’s phone, which he’d given him the passcode for. He pressed the screen a few times and held it to his ear.

“Hey, Mum. How are you?”

Nick put his drink down and waved his hands. “No,” he whispered. “It’s too much to ask.”

“Yeah, I was wondering, do you have time to make one of your amazing chocolate cakes? It would need to feed around…” He glanced at Nick.

Nick put his head in his hands and mumbled, “Fifty.”

“Around fifty people? Yeah… We’re on a bit of a time crunch. We need it for the weekend.” He smiled and chuckled. “How did you guess? Are you sure? Brilliant, thanks, Mum.” He spoke for a few more minutes and then hung up. “There you go. One less thing to worry about. As for balloons, do not ask me. I hate blowing them up.”

The doorbell rang, and Malachi rose. “I’ll get it. It’s time I meet this Carlos.”

He disappeared around the corner, and Nick listened to the door open and the mumble of conversation. He grabbed the cutlery and some napkins and placed them in some semblance of order on the breakfast bar.

“Nick,” Malachi called.

He headed for the door, wondering what Carlos needed from him, but as soon as he rounded the doorway, he froze. Takeaway containers and food covered the floor, and Malachi stood with his back against the wall with the barrel of a gun pressed against his forehead. A gun which had a certain military man they had been looking for since he’d disappeared at Malachi’s grandma’s house on the other end of it.

“Jacobs, what are you doing?” he asked as calmly as he could when he was too far away from his own weapons to do any good. The scent of the tapas was extraordinarily strong, and it turned his stomach right then.

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