He shrugs. “Looks like you’ve found your own Lexi. Heard what you did this morning when you got back.”
I take a swig of beer. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”
“No?” he asks with an amused smirk. “You didn’t call an impromptu meeting with the private-security division—minus her—and warn them all from touching, talking to, or flirting with her?”
Okay, so maybe Ididdo that. But it’s not like any of them listened to me. I’ve been watching the live feed in that division like a man obsessed all day and they’re all still fucking talking to her. Looking at her. I should fire every last fucking one of them for disobeying me. But how can I blame them for looking?
London isn’t the kind of woman any straight, red-blooded man can ignore. She’s magnetic. Fills the air around her with jolting electricity. Steals your attention and holds it hostage. Hell, everyone knows I’ve got the attention span of a goldfish, with the urge to fill every silent room with my words and the inability to sit still for more than five minutes. But put London in the room, and it’s a different story.
“Just tryna protect us from a sexual-harassment lawsuit, is all,” I mutter.
“Sure. Except I’ve been watching your girl for the past couple of weeks, and she doesn’t seem the type who’d file a lawsuit. She’s more the type to chop a fucker’s arm off and mail everyone a piece of it as a warning.”
“Not my girl, one. And two…” I slide him a questioning glance. “Do you like her or hate her? I can’t tell with you this time.”
He shrugs. “Stronger on the side of hate, with a bit of intrigue.” A flash of white teeth. “Intrigued only because I can see where this is going.”
“You can’t see shit.”
So maybe I was a little annoyed when I got back this morning and found out that London had passed her three-week training with flying colors and was already getting along well with her coworkers.
I thought about her so damn much the entire time I was away that, instead of going home when I landed, I went straight to Red Cage, hoping she wasn’t on a job so I could get a glimpse of her.
I didn’t like how friendly she was with the men. She was laughing. Happy. Didn’t have that dead, dull, joyless look in her eyes as she did before. She looked comfortable, at ease. And I fucking hated it.
I hated that I had nothing to do with it. I hated that she was laughing and I wasn’t the one making her laugh. I hated that there were thoughts in her head that didn’t surroundme. I wanted to decapitate every motherfucker in that division working with her.
Which subsequently frightened the fuck out of me. Because I’ve never ever in my life been that violently jealous over a woman. Not over anything, period. Jealousy? What the fuck even was that? I’m a lover, not a fighter. I’m not the type to want to duel over a woman. I rarely even get angry. All my rage is saved for when I’m on assignments that require it. Hell, I don’t recognize the man from this morning.
“Okay, they’re calling!” Tillie calls over the chatter and music. “Gather ’round, Garzas.”
“You got any idea what this is about?” Trent asks as we approach the table where a laptop is propped open with an incoming video call.
“Yup.”
“So?”
“What, you don’t have the gift of sight anymore?” I retort. “You ‘can see where shit is going’ with me, but not with Tor?”
“Man, you’ve been real pissy as of late. I’d say it’s the bullet that got under your skin, but we both know it ain’t it.”
“Fuck off.”
He chuckles. Son of a bitch is having a world of fun at my expense.
Tillie answers the call once we’re all at the table, and Torin and Lyra’s faces fill the screen. She’s sitting on his lap and grinning in that goofy way she does, and he’s just smiling at her, the most placid I’ve ever seen him. He really fucking loves that woman.
Small talk is exchanged before Tillie impatiently bursts out, “You’re knocked up, aren’t you?”
Lyra shakes her head, then slowly lifts her left hand into the frame. “We got married!”
Shit gets crazy from there. Lexi and Monica are pissed because they’ve all spent the last couple of months planning a big fairytale wedding. Tillie takes Lyra’s side, while Lyra tries to reassure them that there’ll still be a big splash reception when they get back.
It’s going exactly the way Torin and I knew it would. Precisely the reason the decision was made to break the news over video call while they’re on their honeymoon, instead of in person.
Slowly backing away from the chaos, I get out my phone and pull upInstagram. London’s not on social media, but Brooklyn—her sister—is, and she’s been snapping candid pictures of London and posting them on her profile. Would bet any money London has no clue her sister’s been posting her.
Or that I’ve been stalking her.