Page 13

DENVER

“You sure you don’t want something to eat?” Sullivan asks as I sit at his kitchen counter.

I tear my gaze away from Sinclair, who is lying on the floor in the living area, caught in a fit of giggles with Molly. Monty barks excitedly at them, his tail whipping around as Molly pets him.

“No, thanks. I ate before Sinclair’s meeting.”

“That was hours ago,” Sullivan comments, sliding a mug of coffee over the counter to me.

“I’m good,” I say.

The truth is, Sinclair went into that deli and ordered the largest breakfast sandwich. Then she handed it straight to me.

“All right, Mr. Moody, you’re getting fed whether you like it or not. I’m not entertaining a hangry episode from you while we’re meeting with my agent.”

She even made us sit inside at a window table for two, scrolling on her phone while I ate, glancing at me every now and then.

“Good boy,” she’d cooed when I was done, reaching over, and brushing a crumb from my lips that I’m sure was never there.

I grip my mug hard.

“You all right?” Sullivan asks, glancing at my white knuckles.

“I’m fine.” My gaze travels to Sinclair and Molly. Monty has laid with them and is playing dead.

“She’s giving you shit, isn’t she? I know she’s a handful, but?—”

“No, she’s fine,” I reply, forcing my eyes away from her again.

I’m not going to tell Sullivan about last night. He’d only tear into Sinclair for taking a risk. And the way she’d looked so desperate when she told me she just needed some time alone… She doesn’t deserve him laying into her.

Plus I can’t be sure of what I might do to Sullivan if I see him try.

I sat in a dark corner of that bar for fifty-seven minutes last night, watching her with that guy, Julian.

She has no idea how much danger she could have gotten into.

She has a smart mouth, but any person with a bit of strength could lift her off her feet and take her.

She wouldn’t know what to do in that situation.

I lift my mug and make myself drink before I grind my teeth so hard they’ll break.

The sound of Molly’s giggles floats over. “Den-va?” she calls.

I turn and am captured by bright blue innocent eyes.

“You okay, Mol?”

“Come play with us.”

Sullivan smirks. “You’ve been summoned.”

“Denver’s coming, Sweetheart,” Sullivan replies as he types into his laptop on the kitchen counter.

I rise from my seat and take the gun from my belt, removing the magazine, before handing it to him discreetly. He takes both pieces from the room to put in the safe inside his office.

“What are we playing?” I ask as I walk over to join them.

Molly beams as I crouch.

“You go there.” She points to a spot on the cream rug behind Sinclair. “You a lion.”

My eyes flick to meet Sinclair’s.

“Sleeping lions,” she explains. “One of us is the hunter, and the rest are lions. The hunter has to wake the lions up. They can’t touch them, but they can whisper things like jokes to make them laugh.”

“Got it,” I reply as Molly tugs on my jacket sleeve.

I lie down behind Sinclair as instructed.

“Close your eyes,” Molly says.

I close them as far as I’m comfortable with, keeping a slit open that I can see the main entrance into Sullivan’s apartment through.

Molly walks around Sinclair, Monty, and I, her little round cheeks glowing. She’s so much like Dixie was at age two and a half. My heart pangs as I picture her. She’s getting so big and I haven’t seen her properly in weeks.

“Cats!” Molly shrieks, clapping her hands over her mouth as Monty flies from his playing dead position to his feet, barking wildly.

Sinclair breaks into laughter beside me. “Good one, Molly. You got him.” She climbs up to standing. “My turn now. Lie down.”

Molly drops to the floor, covering her eyes with her hands as Sinclair tiptoes around us.

“Hmm, look at these lazy lions I’ve found,” she muses, pretending to be the hunter. “There’s a cute little cub.” Molly’s face breaks into a grin, but she keeps her hands glued over her eyes. “And there’s this big old grumpy looking one.”

Sinclair stops next to me, then crouches. I keep still, but each breath I take is filled with her scent. It’s light and sweet. Delicate.

Her breath tickles my ear as she leans in close. “Wakey, wakey, big lion,” she purrs.

I stiffen.

She blows lightly against my ear, and I unintentionally let out a faint grumble of warning.

Her breath dusts my neck as she giggles. “This big lion snores, does he? Let’s see… How about you wake up and I’ll give you something sweet to eat?”

I don’t move.

“I think you’ll like it,” she hums. “When was the last time you had something delicious melting on your tongue? Filling your mouth with its flavor?”

I fight the urge to move and pin her beneath me for her teasing tone.

She moves again until her face is in front of mine. “I’ll even feed it to you myself,” she whispers.

I peel one eye open. Her pupils dilate as she looks at me. I open both eyes fully, staring into her green eyes. She bites her lower lip, her gaze dropping to my mouth and she shuffles close enough that our lips almost touch.

Then she smiles. “Gotcha.”

She laughs and moves to Molly, tickling her until she giggles and curls up into a fetal position.

“Denver was cheating,” she declares, pointing at me. “He had his eyes open a little.”

“Bad,” Molly says through her giggles as I sit up.

“Yes. Bad boy, Denver.” Sinclair smirks, looking over at me.

She stops her assault on Molly and pulls her into her lap, hugging her tight.

“The cookies look good, though. Did Arabella make them?”

Arabella is Sullivan’s PA, formerly Sterling’s. She’s worked for the family for longer than I have. She’s one of the few people he trusts to watch Molly on occasion, but she’s been away visiting her sick mom recently.

Sinclair reaches over to a plate of iced cookies shaped like cats wearing colored sweaters and takes one, handing it to Molly.

“Tate,” she says, taking a bite.

“Tate?” Sinclair’s eyes shoot to Sullivan who’s striding back into the room looking pissed. “Who’s Tate?”

“She’s no-one,” Sullivan snaps.

“Who’s Tate?” Sinclair asks Molly.

“Daddy’s friend,” Molly replies with a mouthful of crumbs.

“Daddy’s friend?” Sinclair’s eyes light up.

“She’s not a friend,” Sullivan clips, glancing up from his phone. “She happened to be here yesterday, helping with Molly, that’s all.”

“Is she your new nanny? It’s about time you got one. I know Arabella loves Molly, but you can’t expect her to work full time for you and help you out in the evenings too.”

Sullivan shakes his head, his eyes tracking to me. He hasn’t asked me or the boys to run any checks on anyone. And I know he would have if he’d taken on a new nanny.

“I’m not hiring a nanny. Tate was here and I had to make a call. I was in the room the entire time. I wouldn’t leave Molly with someone I barely know.” He grunts.

Sinclair’s face drops and she wrinkles her nose up, looking disgusted. “I didn’t realize your friends from The Lanceford came here too.”

“They don’t.” Sullivan pockets his phone. “Like I said, Tate isn’t a friend, and she won’t be coming back.” He tilts his head, gesturing toward Molly. “Let’s leave it at that, shall we, Sis?”

Sinclair huffs. “Whatever.”

Molly giggles as Sinclair sinks her face into her neck and alternates between blowing raspberries and kissing it.

“I’ve got to go, Molly-kins,” she says. “I love you lots. Look after Daddy, okay?”

“Okay,” Molly replies, grinning as Sinclair hands her another cookie.

Sinclair kisses her round cheek, then stands, looking at me.

“Come on, grumpy lion. You could do with an early night after your new friendship with my hallway floor. I promise I’ll stay in.” She raises her brows, saying it quietly enough that Sullivan can’t hear.

I stand and hold her gaze for a beat. “You were supposed to stay in last night.”

She sighs. “You don’t need to worry about Julian. And I mean it, I’ll stay home tonight. I promise, okay?”

She won’t tell me who he is, that much is clear.

But she won’t need to. I’ll find him anyway.

And if she thinks I won’t, then she’s underestimating exactly what her being under my protection means.

Because not only will I find Julian, but if I deem him to be a threat to her in any way, then not only will she never see him again. No one will.

She hugs Sullivan and he retrieves my gun. I push the magazine inside it before tucking it into my holster. Sinclair watches me the entire time with a frown.

“You done, Brute?”

I meet her fiery gaze.

“Lead the way, Princess.”

“Did Sullivan ask you to run a check on a woman named Tate?”

Killian and Jenson’s blank faces confirm he didn’t.

I lean back in my seat, my grip on my beer tightening.

Sinclair’s spending the night at Halliday and Sterling’s place.

Girl’s night, she said. Sterling chuckled when I dropped her off, saying he was going to get some work done in his home office while the two women talk weddings and babies.

He told me he’d take care of them both and gave us all the night off.

I’ve been away from her for two hours and the knots in my neck are embedding themselves deeper.

Sterling can handle himself. They’re in good hands with him should anything happen. I know that. And yet… I pull out my phone and bring up my tracking app. Sinclair and Monty’s dots are together, placing them in Sterling and Halliday’s penthouse.

I purse my lips as I place my phone on the table.

“Why?” Killian asks.

I tune back in, shaking my head. “Don’t worry about it.”

Sullivan’s not one to take security lightly, so whoever this Tate is, he trusts her to be in his home and around Molly. I’d still feel calmer if he’d let me run a check on her, though.

“Why are we talking about work?” Jenson says, lifting his beer and swigging from the bottle.

“Yeah, rare night off,” Killian adds as his eyes roam the room, settling on a curvy redhead near the bar. She glances away shyly after he smiles at her.