Page 11 of Keeping Kasey (Love and Blood #3)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Kasey

The Consoli siblings are… interesting.

A recovering alcoholic, an egomaniac, a hopeless romantic engaged to her former captor… and then there’s James.

After a brief history from Elise that filled in the gaps my research didn’t, I decide that James is the one shred of sanity holding them together. Their dynamic is equal parts fascinating and dysfunctional.

It’s a miracle any of them get along.

My tour with Elise ends in Damon’s office, which looks more like a lounge than a functioning place of business, and I get the impression he isn’t given much paperwork.

The desk is shoved against the far wall with a layer of dust on its surface, and Elise settles into one of the two chairs that sit opposite a couch with a low coffee table in the center of the room.

I sit in the other chair and accept the bottle of water she passes me from the mini fridge that she can just barely reach from her seat.

“I’d offer you a beer, but, you know,” she says with a shrug, then takes a sip.

“Where is Damon?”

She looks at her phone. “He should be coming here soon. He’s been in Los Angeles with Joshua and me for the past month, so James is briefing him on what he’ll be doing now that he’s back. I offered to help him settle in once he had his work.”

As if she conjured him herself, the door flies open, and Damon strides in, holding a box full of ancient-looking files.

Maybe I was wrong about the paperwork.

“Hey, Elli.” He tips his head to her before giving me a once-over with a half-hearted smile. “Kasey, what’d you think of the base?”

“It’s big,” I answer.

And it is.

For how grungy and drab the warehouses look on the outside, the inside is impressive.

The entire facility has the same red brick and black steel interior, and the buildings are connected so intricately that an outsider would have an incredibly difficult time navigating the base, let alone attacking it.

There’s not a blueprint on the planet that could capture the complexities, not that the Consolis would allow blueprints of their base to exist in the first place.

Damon nods and sets the box on his desk before looking at his sister again. “Where’s Logan?”

The mere mention of his name makes me cringe.

Nope. I won’t let myself think about it.

“His office?” she guesses.

Damon shakes his head. “Checked on my way over. It’s empty.”

“What do you need him for?”

“He has more files for me to digitize”—he nods toward the box on the desk—“but I’m going to get the rest from James, then I’ll find him.”

“I’ll go look. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.” She looks at me. “Are you okay to wait here?”

My first instinct is to roll my eyes and make a quip about not needing a babysitter, but I remind myself that she’s trying to be nice.

“I’m fine,” I tell her, but don’t bother with a polite smile.

As soon as they leave, I take what feels like my first breath all day. I’ve gone weeks on end without interacting with a single human being—my record is seven—so being constantly surrounded by people is exhausting.

I’ve only been at this base for a few hours, and I already feel suffocated.

How am I supposed to get through three months of this?

I’m enjoying the blissful silence, aimlessly wandering Damon’s office and peeking through the box of files he’s supposed to digitize—and no, I don’t feel guilty for snooping—when the door bursts open.

Moreno curses under his breath, and I assume he was looking for his fiancée. “What are you doing here?”

I make sure to look extra bored when I answer, “Planning mass chaos and your imminent demise.”

His eyes narrow to slits. “Where is Elise?”

Does he think I did something to her? The idea is ludicrous, but his glare makes me think that’s exactly what he’s imagined.

“Hopefully, exploring new prospects,” I say, because it’s too easy to taunt him. He pulls in a long breath, but I hold up a hand before he can snap back. “She’s off finding Logan. What’s your deal?”

“I don’t like you.”

He stands in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, and an open glare marring his features.

Moreno has a large build, but it’s the atmosphere he carries that makes him intimidating.

I hadn’t noticed it as much with Elise at his side, but right now, without her soft smile to balance his scowl, I can see why people cower before him.

And though there’s a self-preserving voice in my head pleading for me not to push him, I can’t bring myself to listen. “You’re not exactly a ray of sunshine yourself.”

“You may impress the others, but I’m not easily persuaded. Stay out of my way, and stay away from Elise.”

I take lazy steps forward, wearing a perfectly apathetic expression.

“I don’t know what evil scheme you think I’m concocting, but whatever it is, you’re wrong. I was hired because no one is better at this than I am. So, I suggest you back off, or you might lose the only person capable of getting you what you need.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I think ‘warning’ is a more suitable term, but take it however you like.”

His laugh is clipped. “You don’t even know what job you’re here to do.”

“Don’t need to, want to know why? Because I’m that good, and you’d do well to keep that in mind. Now, that was a threat.”

I’m half-excited to watch him snap, but a low chuckle echoes down the hall, interrupting Moreno’s reaction.

I can’t see into the hallway, but I don’t need to. I know it’s Logan.

Moreno steps into the office as Elise and Logan join us, and though I don’t miss Elise’s scowl at her fiancé, I pay more attention to her brother.

I’ve done a fairly decent job pretending what happened in Logan’s office was just a play of my imagination, but as soon as I see him, all bets are off.

I can’t believe I actually let him kiss me. Worse, I can’t believe I was disappointed when Elise interrupted us.

It’s a good thing she did. If Logan hadn’t reminded me what an insufferable ass he is, I might’ve let things go farther.

Much farther.

I can still feel where his arms wrapped around me as his hands explored my hair and his lips brutally claimed mine. The way he handled me with such gentle yet feral movements was jarring. I’ve never had someone touch me with half the ruthlessness Logan did, and I enjoyed every second of it.

But it isn’t how he touched or kissed me that I can’t stop replaying on a loop.

It’s the single moment he tilted his head to wordlessly ask me for the kiss.

He could’ve taken it—we both know I wouldn’t have objected—but he didn’t. If there’s one thing Logan has proven to me in the short time I’ve known him, it’s that he likes to be in control.

We’ve been in a war of wills since we met, but in that single moment, he freely surrendered his control as he waited for my answer.

Of course, the entire thing was a mistake.

The second Elise knocked on the door, he dropped me—literally. I don’t care if his sister—or anyone, for that matter—had seen us kissing, but it clearly bothered him.

Elise and Logan step into the room, and Damon and James follow, each holding a box matching the one on Damon’s desk.

Suddenly, the room is way too crowded.

It’s Damon who pauses to assess the tension. “What’s going on here?”

Moreno pulls Elise to his side, his glare never straying from me. “Nothing.”

Logan tosses a file on Damon’s desk and nods to me. “We’re leaving.”

The order in his tone irks me, and I turn on my heels to face James. “I’m riding back with you.”

“Damon and I need to get a jump on this project,” he answers with an apologetic smile, and then he and his oldest brother start to unpack the boxes.

“Why don’t you ride back with us?” Elise offers, and her cheery tone is like nails on a chalkboard in the haze of my growing irritation.

I’m ready to accept the offer, but Moreno tugs her back.

“Our car is full,” he says before pulling her from the room. I can hear her arguments as they go, leaving me with one very unfortunate option.

“Let’s go,” Logan says, and I can feel him coming up behind me.

I slowly turn, ensuring my most irritated expression is firmly in place. “Has the offer to stay at the base expired?”

I will never admit the effect his small, taunting smile has on me.

“Come on, I don’t bite,” he says as he walks to the door.

“Tell that to my bottom lip,” I mutter.

Silence.

Not just any silence—thick, heavy, painfully awkward silence fills the car.

I don’t bother trying to start a conversation. In fact, I’d be perfectly content if no one talked to me for the rest of the day—or week.

So, of course, that’s when Logan opens his mouth.

“I don’t do relationships.”

The implication is insulting, as if one kiss from him could turn me into a starry-eyed fangirl.

“Good, because you’re not getting one.”

He parks the car in front of the manor. “Then we agree that no one needs to know.”

“It never happened.”

“That’s not what I said.”

I arch an eyebrow.

“It happened, and it’s happening again,” he clarifies, “but no one needs to know.”

I briefly consider challenging his assumption that I’m so eager to kiss him again, but since I’m not actually opposed, I take a different approach.

“Worried you’ll ruin your big bad reputation if people find out you actually like me?”

“I don’t like you. I want to sleep with you. There’s a difference.”

“And my desire for either inclination vanishes every time you open your mouth.”

“Now that we can agree on,” he says, with what has to be the first genuine smile I’ve seen.

Logan isn’t a gentleman promising to sweep me off my feet—but I can’t bring myself to care. The idea of a traditional relationship holds no interest to me, and it’s good that we have the same expectations.

Logan is an entitled jerk with too much power, and I’m emotionally unattached with no intention of sticking around.

We’re the perfect match for a three-month fling.

No feelings.

No commitments.

No problems.

We have a problem.

I shouldn’t be surprised since I know how insufferable Logan is, but I thought it’d take longer than twelve hours before I was ready to murder him again.

Last night passed in a blur of merciful solitude. Aside from establishing the general premise of a fling, we didn’t take it any further. I was done being around people and needed to be alone.

I spent the entire night in my room, even when that meant telling Elise to go away when she pestered me about joining everyone for dinner.

Rude? Maybe, but not nearly as rude as I would’ve been if I’d been forced to interact with people again.

It’s not my fault Elise is hellbent on befriending me. Whatever I did to give her the impression that I was interested in a friendship was an accident—and one I wish I could reverse.

I’m not here to make friends, and when I finish this job, I’ll walk away and never look back.

That is, if I can survive that long without stabbing my own eyes out.

Which brings me to this morning.

I walk inside after tossing the ball with Kane in the yard, and nearly jump out of my skin when I come face-to-face with Logan in the kitchen.

When I first came downstairs, everyone was still getting ready in their rooms, so I didn’t expect him to be leaning against the counter with a half-eaten granola bar in his hand.

And I certainly didn’t expect him to be shirtless.

It’s the first time I’ve seen him without a shirt on, and I’m able to admit that I’m glad it won’t be the last. It’s a damn good sight.

Logan’s abdomen is all sharp angles, and I’m sure he has a rigorous workout regimen to keep it that way. Running shorts hang low on his hips, and a shiny layer of sweat covers his perfectly tanned skin.

His posture oozes narcissistic pride, and it annoys me that his physique warrants that level of confidence.

As if he needs to boost his ego.

“See something you like?” he asks.

“Nothing worth my time,” I answer, but I don’t stop taking in the view.

I’m only human, after all.

His eyes crinkle, and he scarfs the remaining half of the granola bar down like a starving dog.

How the hell does he still manage to look sexy even after that display of barbaric behavior?

He closes the distance between us in two steps and places one hand on my hip. I lean back, not keen on getting his sweat on me.

He doesn’t pull me into him—only dips his head as if to take my lips with his, but he doesn’t. Instead, his mouth finds my ear.

“Be in my bed when I get out of the shower.”

With that, he firmly squeezes my waist before letting go and leaving the kitchen.