Page 6 of Always Been Mine (Always #2)

Eric was lucky he didn’t get kicked in the balls.

Gabe slowed his approach as a smirk formed on his lips. Beatrice spotted him.

“I don’t believe this,” Beatrice yelled. “What are you doing here?”

“Watching over you,” Gabe stated simply.

An undecipherable look passed over her face. Then her eyes shifted between him and Eric.

“Who’s this asshole, Beatrice?” Eric wheezed through his mouth, glaring at Gabe.

“Her man,” he responded levelly, ignoring Beatrice’s gasp of outrage.

“You fucking replaced me with this gorilla?” Eric snapped.

Gabe paused. He’d gotten back his muscles after he’d deliberately shed some pounds to fit the mold of a lean assassin who looked good in a suit, but he was far from ape-size right now .

“I didn’t know Beatrice’s taste had changed to pansy-assed rock dicks,” Gabe drawled in response.

Eric straightened and balled his fists at his sides. Indecision was written all over his face whether he should take a swing at Gabe or not. As for Gabe, he almost wished he had, so he could have an excuse to thrash him.

“Hit me. Come on. You know you want to,” Gabe goaded softly.

“Screw this,” Beatrice snapped. “I don’t care if you two kill each other.”

She turned and stalked back into the condo.

Eric started to follow Beatrice, but Gabe blocked him.

“Be a good boy. Get back into your overpriced car and get out of here.” His hands were itching to squeeze the life out of this little shit.

“We’ll have to ask both of you to leave the premises or we’re calling the cops,” a building security guard announced firmly.

Gabe sighed. The last thing he wanted was to get arrested. He raised both his arms in acquiescence. He looked in the direction of the condo and saw Beatrice with her arms folded over her chest, staring at them. He lifted his hand to give her a two-finger salute and walked away.

“So, how about some dinner?” Zach Jamison asked Beatrice after they concluded their first meeting of Senator Mendoza’s security detail. The senator was busy with senate committee hearings and couldn’t make the appointment.

Beatrice had dreaded the question throughout the whole meeting because Zach had hinted at it earlier when he arrived at the BSI office. Doug was frowning at Zach. Nate pretended he didn’t hear the question, and excused himself politely, heading into his office .

“I’ve got a load of paperwork to do.” Beatrice hoped her smile softened the lame excuse.

She’d been tense as violin string ever since Gabe had returned.

Two days had passed since that confrontation in front of the condo.

Eric continued to hound her with phone calls, but hadn’t shown up at her building again.

There was no contact from Gabe, which was adding more to her uneasiness.

Zach shrugged. “Some other time then. Great meeting. The senator will be pleased.” The senator’s Chief of Staff grinned brightly before heading out to the reception area.

When he was out of earshot, Beatrice said, “That smile of his gives me the creeps.”

“Something is not adding up with that guy,” Doug said.

“Huh? How so?”

“He’s coming on to you in public—”

“And?”

“I was pretty sure he was eye-fucking me three nights ago.”

Beatrice stilled, her lips were twitching. “Maybe he’s bi. Look, he’s all yours if you’re jealous.”

Doug huffed. “Don’t be silly. I just don’t trust a guy who does that.”

“Maybe he’s making you jealous?”

“Well, he’s not my type.”

Beatrice had to agree with her assistant there. Doug preferred blue-collar. For all his clean-cut, neatly pressed look, he favored rough-looking guys.

“I’m heading out. I need to drop a couple of contracts with our attorney for them to look over,” Doug said. “You leaving?”

“Nah. I need to catch up with Nate.”

“See you next week then?”

“Enjoy Florida!” Beatrice stepped toward Doug and gave him a hug .

He held her tightly. “I won’t go if you need me here, sweetie. There’s way too many things going on with you.”

“Don’t worry, Nate will take care of me.”

Beatrice found Nathan Reece going over some building blueprints.

He was the other partner in Blake Security Incorporated.

Because he had been a clandestine agent with the CIA, he preferred not to be identified with the company name.

Nate worked more as a silent partner, having Travis handle most of the face-to-face meetings with the client—or the principal—as was the term professionally used in the security business.

“So what do you think of Zach?”

Nate looked up briefly from the prints before him. “Uh . . . seems like a nice guy.”

“Lame. What is up?”

“Look, Bee, I don’t want to make an assessment of someone based on one meeting.”

“Lie. You were formerly CIA, Nate. Rapid assessments are your forte.”

“He’s our client. I shouldn’t let it affect me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Nate squirmed uncomfortably. “I think he likes me . . . uh . . . that way.”

Beatrice burst out laughing. “Oh, God, how could I be so blind in all this? Well, I don’t ever get any sexual vibes from him except his cheesy smile. How come I’m the one getting a dinner invitation?”

“Search me,” Nate shrugged. “He’s a client. I’ll deal.”

Beatrice walked beside Nate and tucked her arm into his. “We need to find you a nice girl.”

“Leave me alone, Bee. You’re the one who needs to get her ducks in a row.”

Beatrice harrumphed .

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but you better not consider taking him back.”

Who was Nate talking about? Gabe or Eric? Had Doug mentioned something to him?

“Uh, who?” Beatrice hedged.

Nate rolled his eyes. “Who else? Eric Stone.” Ever the astute observer though, his eyes narrowed. “Why? What aren’t you telling me?”

“Don’t say anything to Travis yet, okay?”

Nate nodded.

“His SEAL buddy, Gabriel Sullivan, is back in town.”

Nate silently cursed. “You better not consider taking him back either. Is he bothering you? Do you want me to put someone on you?”

“I can handle myself, Nate,” Beatrice snapped.

“He’s bothering you.” Her friend’s brown eyes grew cold. “That fucker. You wanna stay with me for the weekend?”

Beatrice sighed. This was so sad. Before her was the perfect male specimen: tall, a physique that belonged on the cover of a sports magazine, a smile that wouldn’t creep women out, but most likely make their panties drop, and she was friends with the man.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Nate asked warily.

“Like what?”

“Like I was a bug you crushed under your shoe.”

Beatrice shook her head in amusement. “I’m just pissed that all the reliable men in my life are not relationship material.

First there’s Doug. Gainfully employed. I don’t know what the hell I’d do without him.

He cares for me, loves me, but he’s gay.

Then, there’s you. Women drool all over you, and yet you do nothing for me. ”

“Wow. Thanks,” Nate said sarcastically, but his eyes glinted merrily. “You’re sexy as hell, too, Bee. I see men look at you and it pisses me off.”

Beatrice raised a brow .

“Because it’s like they’re ogling my little sister,” Nate chuckled and caught her head under his arm and ground his fist on the crown of her head.

Beatrice squealed and kidney punched him. Nate grunted, but continued chuckling.

“Ugh! Stop that. You’re not much older than me,” Beatrice yelled.

“Okay, okay.” Nate let her go. “What do you want?”

“Jeez, you really sound like an older brother being pestered by his five-year-old sister.”

“What do you want, Beatrice?”

“When will Travis and Cat be back?”

“You know when,” Nate said, annoyed. “Tonight. What do you really want?”

Beatrice perched half her butt on his desk, eyeing him knowingly.

“I’m not giving it to you,” Nate said. “I shouldn’t have told you about the inner room at the Diamond Owl. Why do you want to learn about BDSM anyway? You’re not made for that shit, you know.”

“Are you?”

“No.” Nate sat on the chair and leaned back. “It’s not as simple as leather, chains, and whips, Bee. It’s about trust. People think it’s all the rage and think a set of handcuffs translates to BDSM. It doesn’t.”

“You sound knowledgeable.”

“I know some folks who are into that lifestyle. Not for me.”

“I’m curious to know how to control a man’s orgasm. They say—”

“Christ! This conversation has gotten weird—”

“I read that there’s this sub-space—”

“Stop!” Nate growled. He reached for his sticky pad and scrawled a word on it. “Here. It’s Friday night. Now get out of here. I need to get some shit done.”

Grinning triumphantly at a scowling Nate, and with the password to the BDSM club safely in her clutches, she gave him a quick hug and skipped out of the room.

Friday was the day after tomorrow. Caitlin should be back by then, and Emily was easy to persuade.

She didn’t need to tell them exactly where they were going.

For the first time in days, Beatrice felt more like herself—in control and conniving.