Page 155 of Nest of Thieves
“I hear you. Same time next week?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be here.”
We head out of the gym and toward the front door. Vette intercepts us, stepping out from the kitchen with a soft smile on his face. The kitchen has been deep cleaned six times over; enough cleaning supplies were used to get rid of real and fake blood alike. I still feel weird walking in there, knowing two men died, but the guys are working on finding a new home for us. With the money from my bank job and from selling this house, we’ll have more than enough to buy a new mini mansion. A place the four of us will love. A place that wasn’t home to two murders.
“Is she listening?” Vette side-eyes me.
“As well as she can,” Lauren teases.
“I’ll make sure she does her exercises this week.”
“Sheis right here.” I roll my eyes at both of them.
“You want a to-go plate?” Vette asks Lauren, ducking into the kitchen again.
“Oh, no, I’ll stop somewhere”—Vette thrusts a plastic-wrapped plate into her hands—“you didn’t have to make me food.”
“Don’t complain. I made empanadas.”
“Well, in that case.” Lauren mimes zipping her lips. “Not another word.”
“Technically, that was three words,” I point out, still salty that they talked about me like I wasn’t here. Everyone’s so worried about my recovery. If it weren’t so sweet, I’d be pissed.
“I think she’s hungry,” Lauren whispers to Vette, laughing when I growl at her. “Okay, okay. I have to go to my next client, and she’s not nearly as fun as you guys.”
“Is that code for she’s an asshole?” I raise an eyebrow and escort her to the front door. Vette trails behind us. It’s like he thinks I’ll hurt myself on the short walk.
He’s so cute.
“I can neither confirm nor deny. It wouldn’t be professional.”
I snort. “You saidfuckearlier, but I get it. She must be a total dick.”
“Stop,” Lauren says with a chuckle. “I love helping my clients get back on track.”
“Even the bitches?”
“Especially the bitches. Why do you think I like coming to see you so much?”
“Oh,damn, mami. She’s got you there.”
I glare at Vette, and he bites his lip to keep from laughing out loud. “Whose side are you on?”
“Yours. Always.” Vette grows serious. “If I hear you question that again, I’ll have to spend some time making you understand exactly what I mean. You feel me?”
“And now this is awkward for me. See you next week, Jo.” Lauren practically runs out of the door to get away from the simmering tension.
Sighing, I shut the door. Vette grabs my waist and spins me around, dropping his hands on either side of my head. “You hungry?”
I let my gaze trail over him. He’s wearing a tight black T-shirt and dark-wash jeans. He could be wearing a trash bag and still be hot to me. My stomach grumbles loudly.
“Guess so,” I whisper.
“Come on, mami. Let me take care of you.” He brushes his lips over mine and grabs my hand, pulling me into the kitchen.
I sit on the barstool and, seconds later, he sets a plate full of food in front of me. Eyeing the refried beans, I frown. “Those are dangerous.” I lift my gaze to meet his.
“Yeah, but they’re good. I couldn’t care less about you farting. You like them, right?”
