Page 36 of Fake Shot

“Uhhh,” I stutter, my eyes flying to where Colt stands a couple of feet from me. But I don’t have to question whether he heard her; the way his chest shakes with laughter is all the proof I need. “Okay, I’ll talk to you later. Thanks!”

As soon as I disconnect the call, I tell Colt, “Alright, you better get your ass out of here before Jameson gets here. I’ll explain the situation to him.”

“Like hell I’m leaving you.”

“This explanation doesn’t require both of us, and he’s much more likely to stay calm if the man who pushed his sister up against a wall in an alley isn’t standing in front of him.I’mthe one who needs to explain this to Jameson,” I insist.

“You can do the explaining,” Colt says, taking a step toward me and planting his hands on my shoulders, “but there’s no way I’m not standing next to you while you do.”

Chapter Fourteen

COLT

When Jameson pulls into the spot behind the back door, Jules and I are standing in the kitchen waiting for him.

“I need a minute,” I say, reaching for the doorknob.

“What? No.” She grasps my forearm as if she could stop me from going out there. “You said I could do the explaining here.”

“And you can. But I need a minute with him first.”

“Colt ...” She drags my name out like a warning, and I’m tempted to tell her it turns me on when she does that. But even I know that now isn’t the time.

“He’s been my best friend for the last fifteen years, and I just had his little sister wrapped around me up against a wall in an alley. Trust me when I say, I need a minute with him so that he doesn’t kill us both.”

She sighs, but lets go of my arm. Shutting the door behind me, I meet him on the stairs.

“What. The. Fuck?” His words are low and slow, laced with an anger I’ve never seen from him.

I put both hands out in front of me, hoping it helps him slow his roll a bit. “Jules wants to explain the whole situation to you,” I tell him. “But I just need you to know that she was in danger, and I did what I needed to do to protect her.”

That has his head snapping back. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Who was trying to hurt her?” There’s fire in his eyes, and I’m glad his anger is no longer directed at me.

“She’ll explain. But I just need you to go in there and be reasonable. Don’t lose your shit on her. Don’t make her feel bad,” I say. His eyes narrow, like he’s trying to assess why I care about her feelings when all I’ve ever done is try to annoy her. But before he can ask any questions, I say, “Let’s do this,” and open the back door so he’ll follow me inside.

Five minutes later, Jules has told him the whole story. His response is classic Jameson: “Tell me who this asshole is so I can fucking bury him.”

“No.”

He looks at her like he must have misheard her. “No?”

“No. Boston is a small city. I don’t need you overreacting and doing something that’s going to tarnish my professional reputation.”

“I’m discreet as hell.”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, anyway,” he says, like he knows there’s no point in pushing because she’ll lock up like a damn vault. “This engagement is the most asinine idea I’ve ever heard.”

“Do you have a better one?” she asks, and my chest shakes with silent laughter. It’s theexactquestion I asked her whenshe said it was a stupid idea. Now, it feels like we’re on the same team. Us against everyone.

Jameson sighs. “It’s not ideal, but in the circumstances ... I don’t know. Maybe itisthe best move? It’ll certainly helpyourless-than-stellar reputation”—he looks at me—“and possibly protect yours,” he adds as he looks at Jules.

“Exactly,” she and I say in unison.

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