Page 104 of Sinful Like Us

Omega tends to integrate with the older famous ones like friends—especially after the FanCon tour—but we’re all on.

Alert.

Always.

No bodyguards are posted at the entrance or exits, so we’ve all been scouting the pub at various intervals. We’re in a town with a population of 50. I hate to think it, let alone believe it, but the bigger threat to Jane is another bodyguard.

In my peripheral I see Tony scrutinizing me. He stews behind the sofa and sports an insulted expression. Like him and I are white-collared-wearing, cubicle-sitting employees and I stole his coveted office project.

My jaw hardens, and I lock eyes with Farrow.

He exchanges a strong look with me. One that we used to never share, but it comes naturally tonight and says,we’re on the same side and I’ve got you.There’s a chance that Tony will insert himself in this situation.

And I need someone to have my six so I can have hers.

I’m not as territorial as Farrow, but when it comes to my girlfriend being scared or panicked, my spine would have to be obliterated in a hundred places before I let another man carry her to safety. EspeciallyTony.

“Done?” I ask Jane after she takes another sip.

She nods. “You’re…” She hiccups.

I almost smile, and I hand the glass to Farrow.

Oscar uses comms, his voice in my ear. “I’m taking a piss. Don’t let Beckett hang around my baby sister.” He stands off the sofa where Quinn and Joana laugh at something. The Oliveira family has been together most of the night, and we’ve all been intersecting Beckett’s path to Jo.

I don’t know if he’s bored or if he has a fucking death wish.

Farrow clicks his mic. “Can’t hold your bladder, Oliveira?”

“I’m trying to save all the adult diapers for Donnelly,” Oscar quips.

Donnelly laughs on comms. “Appreciation and all that.”

I tune them out as Jane perches two hands on my shoulders. She tries to straighten up and compose herself, drawing out one blink. “I’m…”

“I have you,” I say strongly. “You don’t need to do anything tonight.” She can be a drunk mess.

She hiccups into a smile. “You’re…”

“Moretti!” Tony calls, approaching us. “She’s not your responsibility. Take your hands off my client.”

Like hell.

I grit my teeth.

Stay professional. I need to stay fucking professional on-duty. In Tony’s mind, I’m Banks, and my brother doesn’t deserve a tarnished reputation because of my bad calls.

Don’t punch him.

She’s in your arms.

Don’t punch him.

I repeat all the reasons why I shouldn’t launch verbal grenades or fists.

Farrow pops a piece of gum in his mouth. Casual as all hell, and as soon as Tony is in distance, Farrow puts a hand to his chest, stopping him in place. “Man, just let Banks take care of her. She’s comfortable with him.”

Tony sizes him up. “So you’d rather I switch details with Banks then?” He jabs a thumb to the bar. “I can go look after Maximoff for you.”