Gun sighed. “Where’s West?”
West was the sweetest man I had met. No wait, that was Lucas. West was also sweet, but I often wondered about his sanity when it came to being married to an ex-mafia Russian man who could kill with a flick of his wrist.
Okay, and maybe my man could do that, too, but the Russian was scarier.
I hadn’t been around at the time, but I’d heard the story of Adrick snapping West’s father’s neck for torturing Adrick lover. I was sure that if Adrick hadn’t done it, someone in the brotherhood would have. Even I would have given it a go after West told me the full story, and I was more a lover than a fighter.
“He is working at Death’s security place.”
“And you left him alone?” Gun asked.
“You think me a fool? No. He is guarded, and they know to kill anyone who upsets West.”
“Then tell us why you strolled in here and pulled up a seat.”
“Country didn’t inform you?” he asked, flicking lint off his slacks.
“Non.”
There was a knock, and the door to Saint’s office opened. Country stuck his head through. “You found them. Forgot to call, but Adrick is willing to advertise the Playhouse in all his casinos and clubs. He just wants to be involved in return for the free advertising.” He waved with two fingers and shut the door again.
Merde.
That explained why the scary man was here.
“I am good at reading people and decorating. I will assist on the decor of the warehouse.”
“You can help, but I have final say. Saint promised me this,” I warned.
“Da. Good to see you have backbone.”
“And they have to accept our offer first on the warehouse,” I said. We had made our proposal earlier to the agent and were waiting on a call back.
Gun snorted. “They will. I saw the fear Blaze put in the agent with that look.”
I smiled. “This is true.”
“You fear me and yet you are married to a fierce yeti. I do not understand,” Adrick commented.
“I don’t fear you,” I lied.
He leaned forward, and I quickly looked away while saying, “When will Saint get here?”
Gun chuckled. “Any second and then we can start the interviews.”
Thankfully, the door opened, and Saint walked in. “It’s crowded out there,” he commented as he made his way over. He leaned down and kissed Gun before he took the spare seat beside his man. “Boo, you remember the time I interviewed you?”
“No,” Gun shouted, jolting to sit straighter. “Zip it, Zion.”
“Aww, but it was the best night of my life.”
“I want to know,” I said.
“They are talking about when Gun proved to Saint that he was a master at giving blow jobs to men.”
I gasped, then cackled. “Really? Is that how you two started dating?”
Gun groaned and buried his face into his hands. “I’m going to kill West for tellin’ you.”