Page 57 of Silver Spoon Falls, Vol. I

THIRTY-NINE

GRIZZ

"I've got a job for you."

I glance up from the video on my phone to see Cormac "Giant" Carmichael standing in the doorway with a shit-eating grin on his face. It's a classic sign that whatever job he's about to give me is one I don't want. He's always up to something, and it never bodes well for anyone around him.

He's like that fucking squirrel from Hoodwinked . You know, the one jacked up on caffeine? Except he doesn't mainline coffee. He's just naturally fucking crazy.

"Don't want it," I mutter, swiping up to load the next video. It's a cursing parrot. A grin slides across my face as the little thing wanders around asking, “What the fuck.”

"Bullshit. You've been in here scrolling for the last four hours.

You're bored out of your goddamn mind." He kicks my boot, knocking it off the edge of the milk crate.

We gave up on footstools a while ago. They don't make the damn things big enough for anyone in this office.

We looked ridiculous with our shit-kickers hanging off the edges of the dainty little things.

"Mmhmm. But I don't want whatever shit you're trying to sell me. Give it to the FNG."

"Fucking New Guy is busy."

"You take it."

"Can't. Also busy."

"Annoying the fuck out of your wife isn't actually an item on your to-do list, Giant."

He hoists his middle finger in the air, his grin growing. "I don't annoy my wife. She loves me, asshole."

"Two things can be true at once." I drop my phone on my stomach and smirk up at him.

"You annoy the shit out of that girl. Don't even act like you don't." It's his favorite thing to do.

The bastard is just lucky that Bella Carmichael is as obsessed with his overgrown ass as he is with her.

If she weren't, I think she would have killed him by now.

She's a pint-sized savage. I like her. "What's the job? "

"Private security for a party."

"What kind of party?"

"Bachelorette party."

I groan loudly. "Fuckin' A, Giant."

"The pay is excellent."

"How much?"

"Two fifty an hour."

My brows climb toward my hairline. Jesus. "Who the hell is getting married? The Queen?"

"You really gotta ask that in this town?"

"Good point." I snort, shaking my head. In a town full of billionaires and millionaires, people can afford to throw money around like it's going out of style.

They do it on the daily. We've offered security for some of the most asinine shit and made a killing doing it.

If some billionaire wants to pay us two hundred and fifty an hour to babysit his future bride and her girlfriends while they sip mojitos and toast her good fortune, who the fuck am I to complain?

"The bride's name is Camden Sears. She's marrying into the Graydon family," Giant says, propping himself up against the doorframe. "Guess he just wants a babysitter for a few hours. They requested you specifically."

My brows pull together. "I don't know the Graydon family."

"Well, they know you, motherfucker. You want the job or not?"

I trust him about as far as I can throw him…

and his nickname is Giant for a reason, so I can't throw the big bastard far.

There's something he isn't telling me. It's written all over his face.

But it's not like I'm doing anything else.

Besides, it's a bachelorette party for a rich chick.

How much fucking trouble could it possibly be?

"Fine," I growl. "I'll do it. But just know that I know you're up to something."

"Who, me?" He bats his lashes at me. The lying bastard.

"Giant? Get the fuck out of my office."

He throws his head back and laughs. "I'll text you the address, you ungrateful prick. Go clean up before you go. You look like the arse end of a dog."

"Go?" My lips pull down into a deep frown. "The job is now?"

"Yep." He taps the doorframe on the way out. "Toodles, bitch."

"I swear to God, I'm fucking quitting one day!"

"No, you aren't. No one else would put up with your bullshit like I do."

Yeah, that's probably true. Fuck.

Color me confused. The bachelorette party is at the Graydon Estate. Meaning I have to pass through three different security gates just to get to the house. Why the hell Graydon needs me to babysit with three men manning the gates, I don’t know. But it’s his fortune. I’m just here to spend it.

I roll up in front of the house, my eyebrows climbing as Biggie’s distinct voice throbs from the stately mansion loud enough to rattle the windows.

There are a dozen cars parked out front, and absolutely none of them look like they belong at the multi-million-dollar property.

They definitely belong to women, though.

There are cutesy colors and sorority bumper stickers everywhere.

One even has fucking eyelashes on the damn headlights.

“What the fuck did you get me into, Giant?” I mutter, reluctantly killing the engine on my truck.

For a minute, I just sit, eyeing the mansion.

The estate is one of the biggest in Silver Spoon Falls, sprawling across literal acres.

The lush green lawn rolls across little hills, with massive trees planted here and there to offer shade from the hot Texas sun.

The house itself looks more like a stately castle than a modern building, with parapets and rounded gable roofs.

It screams old money and a thousand fucking rules.

I’ve never been particularly good at following those. There’s a reason I’m a bodyguard. It’s because I make my own damn rules. People do what I say, not the other way around. It works well for me.

I’m big and bullheaded, a real stubborn asshole.

Been that way my whole life. What can I say?

I know my own mind and don’t change it easily.

My teachers hated it when I was a kid. My ma didn’t much care for it, either.

But shit, I have three sisters who changed their minds as often as they changed clothes.

Someone had to step up and make decisions.

I’m already regretting this particular decision. Spending the night with a bunch of drunk, horny bridesmaids is not my idea of a good time. I’m trying to avoid ending up like every other man in this town. They take one look at a woman and lose their minds.

The last thing I need right now is a woman leading me around by the cock. I’ve got shit to do. A house to build. Clients to handle. Sisters to marry off. Shit. To. Do.

I shove my cell and keys into my pocket, remind myself that spending other people’s money is a helluva lot more fun than spending my own, and then climb from the truck.

The music is even louder out here. Loud squeals and peals of laughter ring out over the throbbing bass.

Jesus H. Christ. This is not a sedate, boring night unwrapping fancy crystal goblets. What the fuck are they doing in there?

My curiosity is officially piqued.

I stride up the circle driveway to the porch, stepping between two massive columns. The antique brass double doors are wide enough to fit an army through. Tall enough, too.

I bypass the knockers and press the doorbell.

The fucker gongs like a drum inside the house.

More squeals sound from within, and then what can only be described as the sound of a stampede.

The doors fly open not even thirty seconds later. Six sets of dilated, glossy eyes land on me. Six bright, inebriated smiles grow brighter. Their Bride Tribe crowns are askew, their sashes crooked.

I take a step back as the unmistakable odor of tequila wafts toward me.

They’re plastered.

I’m killing Giant.

“Ooh, he’s big!” a blonde squeals, swaying on her feet.

“Uh-huh,” a redhead breathes, staring directly at my junk.

“I’m looking for Camden,” I growl, my patience already wearing thin.

“And we can’t wait to look at you,” the redhead says, making the others guffaw loudly. “We could use a little protection. Especially if you’re doing it half-naked.”

“When do we get to that part again?” a tiny brunette asks, her nose scrunching up.

I glance over her head, searching for the bride.

Instead, my gaze lands on a curvy little goddess seated on the staircase.

Unlike everyone else, her Bride Tribe crown is perfectly aligned on top of her raven curls, her sash unwrinkled.

She’s got her head tipped down, her nose buried in a book, completely oblivious to the rest of the world.

My goddamn heart seizes up in my chest as her gray eyes dance along the page, her lips moving as she whispers the words to herself. She’s the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.

Jesus. Why does my heart feel like it’s lodged in my throat?

“Yeah! Take it all off, baby!”

The little raven-haired beauty glances up, her eyes meeting mine.

Two things happen simultaneously.

My fucking cock sits straight up. And I realize exactly what the blonde just said.

Giant, you son of a bitch. Did you hire me out as a stripper?!

He did. He absolutely did.

And right now, I’m not entirely pissed about it.