Page 3 of Mess With Me

“We all know Creelman’s a bad fucking guy of the first order,” Ford agrees. “And Lionel knows our surveillance proves he’s been blatantly bribing local politicians for years.”

It makes no sense he’d want us to back down. “He called the guy a scumbag, for chrissakes.”

“It’s not great,” Ford agrees.

I’m fucking dumbfounded. “Where’s the rest of the team?”

“Getting reassigned.”

“Attention beautiful people!” A voice cuts through the last of the trees between me and the open space where wedding-goers mill around rows of white chairs. A chic-looking Black woman with a shaved head and a pink blazer grips the mic at the podium. “The ceremony of the century will begin in fifteen minutes.”

“Fuck, I’ve gotta go,” I tell Ford, very much not wanting to go.

He chuckles. “The ceremony of the century, huh?”

“Fuck you.”

“Call me when you can. There’s more.”

“What do you mean, more?”

But Ford’s already ended the call.

“Sonofabitch,” I say out loud. I’d say it to his face if he were here. He knows if he said any more, he’d risk me jumping on my bike and heading back to the city.

But I can’t ditch my brother’s wedding with a clean conscience. I’m known for being inexplicably absent in this family. Hazard of the job. And my personality. But skipping out on my brother’s wedding would be a dick move, especially since I’m in the wedding party. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a dick. Family is always number one, even if I don’t always tell them that in words.

I slip the phone into my breast pocket and pick up the pace down the last section of the path, setting work out of my mind for now. I’m good at compartmentalizing.

Of course the moment I shut the door in my brain on work, it goes straight back to the woman in pink.

“Fucking stop it, asshole,” I mutter to myself oh-so-kindly as I step out into the back of the crowd. “It’s time to act like weddings are my goddamned happy place, not scan the crowd for women in peril.”

One particular woman in peril.

As I cross the back of the grassy area set up for the wedding, I attempt to shut the door on her, too. Only a shiny pink toe pokes into my mental doorframe right before I click it shut.

CHAPTER2

Griffin

“Hey!” Eli says, popping his head out of the flap of the groomsmen’s tent as I approach. “Where the hell have you been? We’re about to start!”

I ignore my brother’s question. “I’m here now.”

For our client’s protection, no one in my family knows much about what I do for work, so Eli doesn’t blink when I don’t offer more of an explanation. It’s out of the question that I would say anything about staring at a beautiful woman, either.

I follow Eli inside. Though he has three groomsmen, I suss out right away we’re the only ones in here, which is good. The less chit-chat the better.

“At least you’re dressed,” Eli says. “Jude showed up in sweatpants. We had to witness him changing right here in what’s supposed to be my sacred space.”

I roll my eyes, but he’s grinning as he fusses with something at his back.

“Fuck,” he says as his cummerbund falls off on one side. He yanks it back into place, pulling the band at the back too tight.

“You’re making it worse.”

“You think you can do better?”

---