Page 25

RICKY

My bodyguard. Fuck. Aurora has no idea what those words do to me.

Charlie gnaws on his lip. “He’s perceptive.”

“No, he’s insecure and threatened,” I correct, a grin still plastered on my face from her refusing to let me go. “He never wanted her to have friends.”

Friends would convince her to leave. I would if it wasn’t for this case.

“Try to be nice to him.” Charlie raises his hands in a placating gesture.

“You can do that, right? Otherwise, we’ll have to fabricate a scenario requiring your protection.

Then, Daddy Dom Ethan will move them, and I’ll have to install mics again.

Not to mention, command is breathing down our necks. ”

I shake my head at his anxious ramblings while we ride the elevator to Aurora’s apartment. “Kyle’s threats are a reason for me to be here.”

“But they don’t know we know, you know?”

His nervous energy is palpable, and I grab hold of his shoulder.

“Take a breath. Your words are jumbling. Your only task is to sit there and look pretty.”

“I’m not pretty. I’m the opposite of pretty. Aurora and Jackson are pretty. They’re probably two of the prettiest people I’ve ever seen.”

Charlie was burned in a bombing while we were deployed overseas. His scars are hidden, but it’s something he’s self-conscious of.

“That’s not true.” The elevator pings, and in jest, I say under my breath, “Get your shit together, or we are so breaking up.”

Unlike the stairs leading to the back hall, the elevator opens into a brick foyer, overflowing with designer clothes and shoes. I take a deep inhale of Aurora’s vanilla-and-jasmine scent, and my shoulders relax instantly. It’s bewitching.

“Jesus. Who needs this much clothing?”

Charlie hovers behind me. I think he finds comfort in being concealed from society as a special agent, locked in the van with his computer tech, watching and listening. I’m certain he only talks to civilians when he goes for coffee—that’s if he can’t get it delivered.

“She’s a model, remember?”

I hang my jacket next to Aurora’s. She’s clean and tidy. It’s one thing we have in common, perhaps our only similarity. Where I’m hard, she’s soft. I’m stoic, and she’s bubbly. I’m standoffish, and she’s affectionate.

I remove my boots and set them under the wooden bench, and Charlie meanders to the clothing, touching the more delicate items. He’s a starved kid in a candy store, and judging by his wide-eyed gaze at the lingerie, he might be a virgin.

He holds up a pair of red lace thongs. “Do you get to see her in these?” he whisper-yells.

My face flushes, and my body breaks out in a nervous sweat. “Put those fucking down,” I grit through my teeth. “I will rag-doll your skinny neck.”

He snickers, drops the underwear, and toes off his shoes. “Maybe she’ll model something for us. How did you get her naked, exactly?”

If it wasn’t for the smirk he’s failing to hold in, I’d kidney punch him right here and now. I need no reminder of Aurora naked, water glistening off her body… Jesus.

She believes I held that towel open for her when, in reality, it was a strategic placement. Even pregnant, she’s a knockout. That, or she unlocked another new kink.

“Do you wanna be beaten by an unhinged hockey player? I won’t stop him.”

“I love getting you riled up.” His chest shakes with silent laughter. “Your face is the color of those sexy-as-fuck underwear.”

God help me through this night.

The living room resonates with the sounds of a televised game, Jackson watching from the couch while playing on his phone.

“Hey, man.” I lift my chin. “Jackson, this is Charlie.” I motion between them. “Charlie, Jackson.”

My partner steps forward and raises his hand in a stiff wave. “Hi,” he squeaks. “I know who you are. I mean…I don’t know you. I saw you here the other night and on TV…” He catches himself babbling and lowers his arm to his side. “You look different in person, though.”

Jackson’s skeptical gaze bounces between us. “Yeah, the skates and equipment make me appear bigger.” His lips curl into a tentative smile. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“No!” Charlie slaps his chest dramatically. “I’m not disappointed! You’re huge. Not as huge as Ricky, which I like, you know, because he’s my?—”

I fist the back of his shirt and force him into the armchair, shutting him up before this gets any more awkward. “Ignore him. He’s starstruck.” I glance around the open space. “Where’s Aurora? Is she still sick?”

“Taking a nap. She worked this morning.”

He returns his attention to the hockey game, dismissing me. His indifference sets me on edge.

I head to the kitchen. “Has she been eating? Drinking enough water?” I call out over my shoulder.

She’s a picky eater and forgetful, too focused on securing a future for herself and the baby. I’m usually the one who makes sure she eats, and after counting the prepared meals, it’s clear she’s been skipping some.

Jackson doesn’t answer. I slam the fridge and march back into the living room. “Hey, has she been eating?”

Crossing his arms over his chest, he breaks away from the flatscreen. “Yeah, why?”

I’m getting the hunch he dislikes me, which is strange, since he gets along with Ethan, who you’d think was the greater threat. Besides their previous relationship, though, I’ve spent more time with Aurora than either of them.

“You’ve seen her eat three times a day? There are extra meals.”

He narrows his eyes. “I can feed my girlfriend, dude.”

His flippant attitude grates on my last fucking nerve. He wasn’t with her every time she fell apart over him, wasn’t the one to pick up the broken pieces, and wasn’t the one encouraging her to get out of bed and put food in her system.

Yet, here he is, taking up space and oxygen.

“Are you sure, dude ? Because you haven’t cared for her in…ever.”

That was harsh, but I’m feeling some sort of way between being separated from Aurora and the meal situation. Besides, a genuine friend would be concerned, right?

The air carries a nervous energy, or maybe it’s Charlie. I practically hear him screaming, What the fuck are you doing? This isn’t part of the plan.

Jackson glances toward the bedroom, his jaw pulsing as he seems to weigh the consequences of losing his temper.

“I understand you’re among the many people who hate me.

I fucked up. I get it more than you realize, but treating me like shit doesn’t make things easier on Aurora.

If you have concerns, let me know, but I eat a lot, and she always eats with me. ”

Damn it, why does he have to be reasonable? He’s trying to be amicable, and I’m not.

Before I can reply, Charlie cuts in. “Well said, my man.” He releases an audible exhale and settles into the armchair. “I’m sure she’s fine. I mean, she’s what? A buck twenty-five? She probably doesn’t need to eat much.”

I fix him with a hard stare, frustrated he’s making light of the situation. “She’s pregnant and hardly keeping food down. Her doctor is concerned about her weight and blood pressure.”

“Sure. Sure. But that was because of stress.” Charlie gestures to Jackson. “He’s here now. It’s all good.”

It’s all good ? Because he’s here? What a load of shit.

“What are you talking about?” Jackson’s brows furrow in confusion, as if it never occurred to him Aurora was negatively affected by his relapse. “When did her doctor say that?”

I scoff at how little he knows about the person he claims to love. “While you were off getting high and fucking whoever, I was here taking care of your girlfriend, and she’s had to call the doctor several times . She collapsed into my arms the night she found out, and I’ve been the one?—”

In two steps, he’s in front of me, and we’re chest to chest. I’ve got a few inches on him, more muscle, and I’m combat-trained. Yet, he isn’t intimidated. He raises his hands, and I brace myself, certain he’s about to throw a punch.

Instead, he motions to his face, challenging me. “Come on, big man. Take a shot,” he taunts, his green eyes brimming with disgust. “Go ahead. You got the balls to run your mouth, so do something about it.”

Charlie jumps up. “Okay, guys. Let’s not fight.”

I clench my fists hard enough to crack my knuckles. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Better I hit you in the face than where it truly hurts?”

I want to knock him on his ass more than anything, the overwhelming urge vibrating in my taut muscles. He deserves it for everything he’s done to Aurora, but I have a feeling she’d defend him.

If I touch him, she’ll choose him over me without hesitation.

And Jackson knows it.

His mouth twists in a snide smirk. “Do it. Do what you need to make yourself feel better, whatever gets you to shut…the…fuck…up.” He leans in, accentuating each word.

I shove him with both hands. “If you hurt her again, I won’t hesitate to end you.”

It’s not worth it. An altercation will only fuel the violence in his veins, nothing else.

He barely budges. He’s an impenetrable wall of self-destruction, numb and reckless. “Get in line. You’ll be waiting a while.”

I sense movement behind me, and Jackson backs off, running his fingers through his hair.

Barefoot, Aurora enters the living room in a rumpled T-shirt big enough to be his and leggings—which reminds me, I need to find a studio with prenatal yoga. She enjoyed that when she was in Laguna.

I open my arms. She encircles my waist and peers up at me with drowsy eyes and sleep wrinkles on her cheek. “What’s going on?”

Her hugs are my favorite, and the tension bleeds from my body.

“Ethan wants me to check the fireplaces and radiators.” I tuck a strand of her messy hair behind her ear. “And I brought someone for you to meet—officially.”

“He’s cute.” She smiles and whispers, “But he looks terrified.”

Laughter bursts from my chest. Maybe I just needed a hug.