Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
“You’re together?” Mitch asked in such a way that it was obvious. Whatever he saw reflected on his and Dev’s faces had him bursting free with a laugh and lifting his hands in surrender. “Only a guess.”
A second or two passed as both he and Dev stared at the former federal marshal. What about any of this might make Mitch believe they were a couple. That was actually sad for people in committed relationships.
Dev finally swung his gaze back to Trace, sticking his fingers in his front pants pockets. “What’s your background?”
“I come from a long line of overachievers,” Trace said, inclining his head toward Mitch. “Everyone’s accomplished but college wasn’t my thing. I enlisted out of high school. As soon as I could break free, I did. I’ve been with Uncle Mitch for about a year. Unnecessary rules aren’t easy for me. I’m fully trained and understand the position I’m taking. I won’t get in your way, but I’ll be close, and I’m good at my job. If I take your second room at the ink parlor, I can build a believable cover.”
“Their company’s also putting security on the girls and your mother,” Cash added for Dev’s benefit.
“They’ll be discreet and appropriate,” Mitch added.
“They better be fuckin’ appropriate,” Dev snarled at Mitch who merely smirked, seemingly unaffected by Dev’s outburst. But he lifted both hands again in a show of peace and nodded.
“Each member of my team’s fully vetted. Director Skinner’s our biggest client as well as our best personnel resource. We’re LGBTQ+ friendly and family oriented. We require a lot from our staff.” Mitch shrugged off his jacket, tossing it over a nearby chair. He had a way of staying professional while being comfortable to be around. A rare trait in Cash’s line of work.
“Oh my God that’s some funny shit.” Dev chuckled and pointed to Mitch’s T-shirt, which had a picture of a candy cane wrapped in a big Christmas bow with the words “it isn’t going to lick itself” in bold letters.
Perhaps professional wasn’t the right word…
“Thanks.” Mitch looked down at the shirt then back to Dev. “Cody, my husband, got it for me. The T-shirts are my thing. They can put some people off. That’s a bonus.”
“He’s in a May-December marriage. Cody’s my age,” Trace shot out, grinning broadly.
Mitch found no humor in his words. “You’re fired.”
He, Cash, and Trace all laughed at the seriousness in Mitch’s tone.
“I’m not really fired. My mom would get mad at his dad. It’d be a family thing,” Trace said, unable to keep the laughter from spilling out between the words spoken.
“I get it. I enjoy irritatin’ people too.” Dev’s arms crossed over his chest as he nodded at Mitch, who looked ready to pounce on Trace, drawing him back to the reason they were there. “I need to see your work before I commit you into my parlor. You do any of his ink?” Dev nodded toward Mitch.
Mitch lifted the light-weight shirt, obviously having no problem showing off his finely chiseled stomach and chest or the art there. Cash wasn’t the one to know what was what in the world of tattooing, but Dev leaned in, inspecting the work as Mitch explained what was Trace’s design compared to old art.
Dev nodded. Where Cash was interested in the muscles rippling under all that art, Dev paid the body no attention. The inspection was thorough before Dev lifted his gaze to Cash who got caught staring. An instant frown replaced the perusal on Dev’s face.
“You don’t have to stare like he’s a piece of goddamn meat.”
Heat suffused Cash’s cheeks. Mitch chuckled, but Trace laughed out loud. “Yeah, there’s not much hiding what’s going on between you two. So what do you think?”
“You got talent. At least as much as the friend I have in there now who’s helpin’ out.” Dev gave Trace another once-over. “You ride?”
“Yup. A lone wolf. They’re springin’ for a new to me Harley. I’m plannin’ on keepin’ it though,” Trace said with a nod of certainty.
Dev nodded and reached out for a quick knuckle bump. “We can see how he does.”
Cash agreed with the decision—technically not Dev’s to make but he let it go. Mitch nodded too. “I’ll be at Trace’s back. If he needs us, we’ll always be close.”
“Goddammit. Now I gotta get Millie on realignin’ the schedule again.” As a heavy weight lifted off Cash, Dev took a hard turn into pissed off. “Fuckin’ government. You gotta be accommodatin’ all the damn time or they tag you as rogue. They’re fuckin’ hard on my business.”
“I’ll be workin’ hard for you,” Trace reassured, clearly not understanding that Dev’s attitude turned on a dime.
“So is Trace movin’ into my buildin’?” Dev asked.
“Good question. It seemed a good idea, so I tentatively authorized it pending this meeting,” Cash answered. He pushed his hands into his slacks pockets. “It’s easy enough cover to have him at your place. Nobody in the club knows about the building, but the cover story is easy enough. You gave him a place to land.”