Page 49 of Extradition (Mobsters + Billionaires 1)
JOE
This morning was a nightmare.As soon as I spotted the guy in the walking path, I recognized him from one of the families. Worse, I immediately started mentally preparing myself to kill him if I had to.
I suppose it’s one of those skills that’s better to have and not need than to need and not have, but I despise that part of me. Most of the time, I can pretend I’ve never seen the light go out of someone’s eyes at my own hand, but there is no denying my ability to murder when someone I care about is in danger.
And when it comes to Rand, I find that I care. A lot.
Seeing his guilt makes it all so much worse. He was a shell of himself in yesterday’s board meeting, letting his father walk all over him. When he wanted to be a little rebellious this morning, I was thrilled. I encouraged it.
But Edgerton is right. We were reckless, completely unaware of the number of people right outside our bubble, just waiting for an opportunity to bring me in. Even though I would’ve protected Rand with my life, I shiver to think how easily we could’ve been overwhelmed.
We got lucky.
I shiver again when I think about the way I held him. I meant for it to be a grounding hug, but Rand was like a starving man, dying from lack of touch. Every protective instinct came rushing forward, and I let it go on for far too long. Neither of us wanted to stop. If I’d invited him into my bed, even just to hold him, he would have fallen on the chance.
Needing to recalibrate, I stand under the hot shower for several long minutes. Once I start to feel human again, I dry off and fall into bed, letting sleep take me for the rest of the morning.
* * *
Wanderinginto the kitchen after a restless nap, I catch Rand making a sandwich. He sees me and guilt mars his features. I reach out and rub his shoulder. “Hey, none of whatever this look is. You and me? We’re good.”
He nods but looks unconvinced, so I try for small talk.
“Whatcha making?”
“A club sandwich. You want one?”
“Fuck yeah.”
He grins at the strong language and grabs more bread, toasting it as he fries up a few extra strips of bacon. After he assembles the ingredients, I grab the drinks, and he plates the sandwiches before setting them on the bar.
He’s still a little shaky from this morning’s violence, but I enjoy that he somehow makes sitting at the bar look elegant. He’s even tasteful about the way he places a napkin on his lap.
Chuckling at my mental wanderings, I take the first bite and growl out a moan. “Fuuuck, this is so good. Billionaire’s got sandwich skills.”
Rand swallows funny and starts to choke. I drop the sandwich and spend the next few seconds pounding on his back until he discreetly coughs into his napkin.
“You okay?”
His face is flush, and at first I think it’s from all the coughing, but then I realize he’s a little embarrassed. It’s silly, of course, because people choke on their food all the time.
Darting a look in my direction, he quickly reaches across the bar for another napkin, which he immediately places in his lap. He unfolds and rearranges it before picking up his sandwich. I guess the guy can’t eat unless his napkin situation is squared away.
Huh. Unless the napkin’s covering a situation.
A quick glance at Rand’s face tells me he’s still battling some kind of embarrassment, so I let my gaze fall to his lap again. Double huh. Maybe that’s just an unfortunate fold of the napkin, or perhaps having my hands on him got him a little riled up.
Might hafta explore that a little.
Probably shouldn’t.
Anyway, we get back to eating, and I demolish my sandwich in a matter of minutes. I hop up and grab some chips from the pantry, still hungry. Laughing, Rand splits the last half of his sandwich with me, and I inhale that too.
“Damn, that was seriously tasty. Was there a little kick of something in there?”
He nods. “I just stole your idea and drizzled some chili honey on the bacon when you weren’t looking.”
Endearing as fuck.
