Page 69 of Ripped & Shipped
Chris has that look again—the dangerous one. “Someone’s bugging you again?” he asks.
“No one’s bugging me.”
“It should bug you,” Meg says. “I think you’ve gotten numb to it. Right after you blocked beefitupfitnessdude this new guy shows up: ImSOBeefy. Who even names themselves something like that?”
“He’s harmless,” I say.
“How do you know?” Chris asks.
“We’ve been over this before,” I warn him. “You aren’t my personal online bodyguard. I’ve got this.”
“I say, block the beef!” Meg shouts.
Chris chuckles. “Yeah. Block the beef, Ella Mae.”
I shake my head.
Meg’s phone buzzes in her satchel.
“That’s my cue to head to work,” Meg says. “Be good you two.”
As if anything would go on between me and the soldier.
The snick of the front door causes the air in the kitchen to suddenly feel slightly compressed and warm. I look over at Chris. He’s still leaning on the doorframe like a model for Hot Guy in Doorway magazine. I seriously need a subscription to that, and pronto. And here I was chiding Meg for objectifying him.
“Are you …”
“Do you …”
We both speak at the same time.
“Go ahead,” he says, tipping his chin in that way guys do.
“I was going to ask if you do home repairs for a living now. I honestly don’t know what you do besides being an unpaid bodyguard.”
He chuckles, drops his arms, and runs a hand through his hair.
All.the.moves. He’s got them all. It’s a darn shame. A man who looks like him and has those moves without even trying to muster them should be nicer, or less … Chris. Not that he hasn’t been nice, lately. Oddly, he mostly has.
“I do some odd jobs around town when needed.”
“And then you live the secret billionaire life the rest of the time?”
“Exactly. I’m secretly a billionaire.” He winks. Then his voice drops to a quiet, raspy rumble. “I hope my secret’s safe with you.”
He ends that little display with a brow quirk. And … that’s my cue to leave.
“Well, I’ve got posts to answer and things to do. Show yourself out, mkay? And help yourself to whatever while you’re here working. You don’t have to knock. Just come get water, or there’s stuff in the fridge. And use the restroom. Whatever.”
I finish babbling and gesturing around at the fridge, and the bathroom, and the faucet. And then I turn and leave the kitchen. The sound of Chris’ amused chuckle follows me up the stairs.
CHAPTER24
Chris
Was that flirting?I wouldn’t know. I don’t even know ifIwas flirting, let alone whether Ella Mae was. I’m sure she wasn’t. It’s Ella Mae. And I’m me. Yeah. We just play our version of verbal tennis. That’s all that was—sparring, because we both love to have the upper hand in situations.
I picture Alex, Duke, and Aiden standing in a line, mocking me. Why not throw Trevor, Rob, and Grant into that peanut gallery? A man who doesn’t know if someone’s flirting—that’s what I’ve become.
