The Men With the Golden Cuffs(90)
Adam stifled a laugh, but Jake turned around in his seat. “Two-by-four, Serena? Sweetheart, that’s nothing compared to the plug I’m going to shove up yours. You know what little brats who tease their Doms get? They get a nice fat ginger root shoved up their rectum.”
She whispered into the phone. “Yes, he just threatened to fig me. No. He can’t do that because he isn’t really my Dom. No. Ewww. You can’t watch. That’s not research, Chris.”
Jake looked back at Adam, sadly shaking his head. “You don’t have any say in this, man. You already checked out.”
Adam felt a little surge of anger. Jake had gotten him in this trouble in the first place. He’d been the one to get Adam really angry. If they had done this Adam’s way, they would have climbed into bed with her and asked her about the situation. But no. Jake had to make a worst-case scenario out of everything, and now he wanted to shove Adam out? “I am still on this case. If you have a problem with it, take it up with Ian.”
Jake wasn’t the only one who could make a decision. Adam switched lanes and made the next right hand turn.
“Where are you going?” Jake asked, his voice tight.
“It’s Saturday. It’s almost eleven o’clock. I’m taking our client to her lunch date.”
“Reasonable asshole won. But I think he won because he’s driving. I’m not sure I’ll be allowed out of the car,” Serena informed Chris. “Yeah. I totally need one. Order a pitcher.”
“No liquor, Serena,” Jake barked. He turned his eyes back to Adam. “I need to know you’re still in this with me.”
“I’ll keep her safe. I’ll do my job.” But he was already thinking about how much her smile lit up his whole fucking day. How was he going to keep his hands off her? Because she’d made it plain she didn’t want him anymore. He wasn’t going to beat his head against a wall. He’d been up front and honest about everything he wanted, and the first mistake he made she’d tossed him out without even being willing to listen to an explanation. He’d been down that road before, and he couldn’t do it again.
“That wasn’t I meant, man.” Jake sat back, a long sigh coming out of his chest. “I need you, man. I’m not any fucking good at this. I can’t save it on my own.”
“There’s nothing to save except her life. Let’s do what we should have done in the first place. Do our jobs. She’s the client. Nothing more.” He kept his words quiet, but every syllable was an ache in his gut.
He looked back at her in the rearview mirror, and for the briefest of seconds, he’d seen a startled hurt on her face, her eyes flaring in pain. She shut it down in an instant and went right back to her friend.
She was the client. He was the guard. It was far past time to start doing his job. Guarding her life and his dumbass heart.
Chapter Sixteen
Serena nearly ran into the restaurant. Bridget and Chris were at their customary table in the back room of the small Mexican food place. When they saw her, they stood and walked to meet her, concern written on their faces.
Thank god she wasn’t alone. Bridget rushed to hug her, pulling her close.
“Hey, sweetie. Are you all right? I know you aren’t, but that’s just something stupid I feel like I should say. I’m so sorry. We’ve both decided to fire Lara.”
Serena sniffled. She couldn’t seem to stop crying today. “Don’t fire her. At least let’s really talk about this before you guys make a decision. I haven’t fired her yet.”
She’d meant to, but things had moved so fast, and then she just hadn’t been able to make herself say the words to cut the relationship off. Lara had looked so miserable, and the truth of the matter was she didn’t have many people in her life who truly claimed to love her. She could at least give Lara a day or two.
“That’s a rational thing to do. Too bad you refuse to give the same courtesy to your lovers.” Jake was standing beside her with a grim expression on his face.
He was going to be trouble. Adam, at least, seemed to just want to get through the day.
“Hello, Bridget. You seem to have gotten rid of the extra chairs.” Jake eyed the small table. Sure enough, the table for four had only three seats.
Bridget faced Jake and gave him her happy middle finger. “Talk to the hand, asshole.”
“It’s really more of a finger,” Jake pointed out.
Chris was infinitely more polite. He held a hand out, though there was a stony, blank expression on his face. “Sorry, she’s a little upset. We both are, actually.”