Bad Deal (A-List Security #3) Read Online Annabeth Albert

Categories Genre: Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: A-List Security Series by Annabeth Albert
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
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“I know that rule.” Cash chuckled. “We’ve got two dogs at home. I’ll help keep an eye on your pup.”

“See? We’ll be fine.” I steered Ambrose toward the hallway. “Go shower. And take your time.”

“Thanks.” He gave me a grateful smile before heading down the hallway. I noted which door he entered before turning back to Cash and Duncan. We started with a perimeter check outdoors.

“So what’s the deal with the TV exec?” Cash asked as we examined the rear fence line.

Duncan looked up from his phone, where he was taking notes of possible security issues. “He’s Ambrose Sterling. Of the famous Hollywood Sterling clan. His dad was basically the opposite of mine—big into TV rather than movies. And unlike my dad, he was universally beloved as one of the best bosses in TV. Ambrose is older than me, but we were at some of the same events as kids, which he probably doesn’t remember.”

“He’s exhausted. He might remember you later.” I bent to look at the clearance between the fence and the ground.

“Again, I ask, what’s the deal?” Cash stared down at me with an amused smile and light tone. “Not that I minded the who’s-who-in-Hollywood installment from the LT, but you seem all kinds of invested in this client.”

“Because I sent the guy to go shower?” I scoffed. “Hospitals suck. You know that. And he’s been in the same clothes for two days. That’s hard, especially on a dude not used to ordeals like this. I’d do the same for anyone.”

I had to hope I sounded moderately convincing, but Cash shook his head. “Uh-huh. And dog sitting?”

Hercules wandered over from exploring some of the drought-resistant landscaping. I gave him a pat on the back. “I don’t hate animals. Danny’s critters haven’t bitten my fingers off yet.”

“And you offered to arrange food.”

“You got a point, Money?”

“I’m just curious, that’s all. Never seen you quite like this. All caretaking.” Cash laughed like he was the funniest guy on the planet, but I made a frustrated noise as I straightened up.

“Give the chief a break.” Duncan clapped me on the back. “It’s not like he even plays for the same team as Ambrose.

“Actually…” I trailed off on a sputtery cough, choking on my own spit. This was why I hadn’t said anything to Ambrose earlier about myself. He might be a nice guy, but I wasn’t about to try to explain something to him when I hadn’t even told my closest friends what had been on my mind for months. “I’ve been thinking. I might be pan. There was an episode of Traveling…” I coughed again. Probably not the best idea to mention Ambrose’s show right then. “Anyway, it got me thinking, that’s all.”

“That’s cool.” Duncan nodded a little too enthusiastically while Cash doffed my shoulder.

“Great news. Thanks for telling us.”

The three of us stood there looking uncomfortably at each other. Big confessions weren’t our usual thing, but I figured they deserved to know. Their support, even if awkwardly given, made the flutter in my chest way less. I’d told. Now we could move on.

“But no matter what I find hot, I’m still not gonna bang a client. LT, you know me better than that.” I motioned at Duncan. “This is business. And I’m a nice guy. Cash doesn’t have a monopoly on taking care of folks.”

Ambrose had said I was nice enough times in the last few hours that I could almost believe that was all this was. But neither Cash nor Duncan looked convinced with their wide eyes and tilted heads, and the worst part was I wasn’t certain what the heck I was doing here.

Chapter Five

Ambrose

“Good thing no one sees me naked these days.” I cast a critical eye on myself in the bathroom mirror. Bumps. Scrapes. Bruises. Stitches on my back, which I’d been careful to keep covered with a waterproof bandage. In short, I was a mess.

But the shower had helped me feel more human, less muddled. Strangely, however, a less fuzzy brain meant I was more unsettled, anxiety doing its best to get its claws into me. I had my meds, but I wanted to hold off on taking them if possible. Given my present exhaustion level, I’d be out like a light before dinner. And I didn’t want to be a bad host for the three security guys wandering around my house by napping while they worked.

Instead, I dealt with the nerves by putting on my biggest, softest sweatshirt. Something about the garment always made me feel safer. I added fuzzy slippers. It was my house. If the security guys wanted to judge me for the bear slippers that my niece, Hester, gave me for Christmas, so be it.

I padded out of my bedroom suite to the kitchen. The large room was one of my favorite parts of the house, with custom-painted pearl-gray cabinets, a chef-worthy range, a huge center island, plenty of counter space, a built-in breakfast nook that matched the cabinetry, and lovely views of the dining room and outdoor patio. And tonight, the room also had Harley peering into my walk-in pantry.


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