by Jaime Reese
He stared, then stared some more. World-champion starer proving his talent in full force. C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.
A light flashed in the room and Ben instantly jolted in his chair. With a hand over his wildly beating heart, he glanced over to the phone’s black screen while the light in the corner flashed. His gaze snapped up to Julian, then to Matt. Julian stood from the table and walked out of the kitchen toward the back of the house while Matt stacked the dishes on the table.
Ben took a few deep breaths to settle the pounding in his chest as he made a mental note to never challenge his phone again. He stood and shoved the device into his back pocket, ready to help Matt clear the table when he spotted Julian standing in the kitchen doorway. “Someone’s here to see you,” he signed.
Julian stepped away with a hint of a smile.
The pounding in Ben’s chest thundered. His lips parted. Like a figment of his imagination, there stood Gabriel. Rather than jeans and a T-shirt, he wore slacks and a black button-down dress shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. As if in a trance, Ben took one step, then another, nearing him.
“I was going to text you,” Gabriel signed. Had Ben not been staring, he would have missed the negligible shake in Gabriel’s hands before he shoved them into his pockets and continued without signing. “But I knew I’d make it before curfew.”
Gabriel’s eyes always revealed more than his words or gestures. They told a story, even when the man chose to remain silent while waiting for Ben’s cue. Tonight, there was something off in his gaze, something unsteady. Almost pleading.
Ben stepped into Gabriel’s space and slid an arm around his waist, sensing he wasn’t the only one who needed to be grounded.
Strong arms instantly wrapped around him, pulling him close. The muscles were as hard and tight as Ben had imagined. Maybe more. But it was the shaky breath breezing against his ear and the fiercely pounding heart against his own that caught his attention.
Ben rested his head on Gabriel’s shoulder, nestling into the warmth and safety of the steel cocoon encasing him. He placed his hand over Gabriel’s heart, each thump violently smacking against his palm. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then another as he stroked Gabriel’s chest, coaxing the fierce and frantic thumps to calm.
After a few seconds, the pounding in his own chest finally eased as the thumping against his palm began to settle, the rhythm of their heartbeats syncing.
This closeness, this peace…it felt right.
And it didn’t feel temporary.
= ♥ =
The nonstop adrenaline rush of the last two days had Bull running on autopilot. The imminent crash wreaked havoc on his body, making his hands shake and his pulse beat double time.
Holding Ben in his arms was exactly what he needed to soothe the inevitable fall from that high. After forty-eight hours of running on all pistons, his heartbeat finally neared something close to normal.
“You’ve got fifteen minutes until curfew. You can go out back if you want. As long as he stays on the property, it’s fine.” Julian, a.k.a. Mr. Buzzkill, stacked the last of the dishes from the dinner table and walked them over to Matt by the sink.
Moving to a different location would require letting go. Bull ducked his head, brushing his nose against Ben’s hair.
There was no way in hell he was letting go.
Not yet.
Never…if it were up to him.
Ben tilted his head up, the distance between them only a few inches. He could lean in and capture those lips, but this wasn’t the time and certainly not the place. Those thick dark eyebrows dipped into a frown and the concern in that green gaze reached deep into Bull’s soul.
His body protested when Ben pulled out of the embrace. “Are you okay?” Ben signed.
“I am now,” Bull signed his reply, not bothering to mouth the words. This was a private moment between them, as private as it could be in a house with three other people and a looming curfew.
“Is your friend okay?”
No jealousy, no interrogation…only genuine concern for another person’s well-being. Bull exhaled a shaky breath as Ben took his hand and led him out through the back door. He was surprised by Ben’s initiative. He wasn’t surprised by how easily he followed.
They sat next to each other on the porch bench out back. He took a few deep breaths as he stared out into the darkness. The cloud-covered night held the moon hostage, not allowing her to cast her glow. He was glad the neighboring streetlight was out and only a hint of light filtered through the window blinds of the house. The darkness created a private bubble…just Ben and him.
Ben pulled out the phone from his back pocket and typed out a message, the screen display illuminating his features with an almost ethereal glow.
He leaned in and read Ben’s message on the screen. What happened? He didn’t want to do this right now. Going into details would take too long and time was ticking closer toward curfew. He needed these minutes with Ben to replenish his reserve from these last few days and have enough stored to get him through the night. He shook his head, not wanting to lose these precious minutes with Ben with talk of work.
But he couldn’t control his thoughts, absently replaying the last few days.
After Rachel’s multi-day visit and checking off all the meetings and tasks in her itinerary, he escorted her through the small, private terminal of the Miami business airport to her waiting jet.
He held open the door. He led, keeping her close as they stepped out onto the tarmac. Two steps and every hair on the back of his neck prickled in warning. A sound, a feeling…a combination of both. He held out his arm, stopping her.
“Stop,” he said as he steered her back inside. She didn’t hesitate, likely recognizing his no-nonsense tone.
With his hand on the door handle of the terminal’s office, he turned his body to the side, shielding her at the very moment a whisper of air breezed by his ear and a bang of metal sounded. Instantly, his attention snapped toward the sound of impact.
A bullet hole had pierced the metal doorframe.
“I doubt anyone would put a bullet in my head because I run a company.” He imagined she would never utter those words in jest again.
Instinct took over, guarding his client while quickly assessing the situation, calculating and then scanning the potential line of sight of the shooter. The smaller airport located smack in the middle of a busy area made it too easy to gain cover while taking a shot.
The next forty-eight hours sped by in a blur. After a flurry of questions and no leads to follow, he had personally accompanied Rachel back to the home office on a commercial flight to ensure her safety. After their arrival, they had worked with Anthony on the framework for an escalated security plan. With the plan in motion and his role complete for the time being, he jumped on another plane back to Miami.
He didn’t want to think about everything that had happened, he wanted to enjoy the few minutes with Ben.
Bull shook his head again, hoping to clear his mind of the memory and shake away some of the stress thrumming through his body. He held out his hand, palm side up. He had left his phone in his SUV and didn’t want to lose another minute to retrieve it. It was too dark for Ben to read his lips and signing required him to have some space between them. There was a certain level of privacy when they exchanged notes via phone. And right now, he craved that.
Ben placed the phone in his hand, the concern clearly blazing in that green gaze.
Bull typed out a note. Someone shot at us Tuesday. I had to make sure my client made it back home safely.
The gasp cut through the silence seconds before arms wrapped around his neck in a tight embrace.
He didn’t need convincing. He rested his head against Ben’s and slid his arm around Ben’s waist, welcoming the comfort. This was what he needed. The contact. Confirmation that he was still alive and breathing.
As each minute passed, another chunk of tension broke away. He exhaled another deep breath
, tightening his hold around Ben’s waist and pulling him closer. The thought of missing out on the chance of having moments like this with Ben had him ducking his head at the crook of Ben’s neck and breathing him in.
Being in the line of fire wasn’t new. His role of bodyguard for clients had resulted in a few close encounters. But this time had been different.
The thought of never having a chance to hold Ben this way had sent a tremor of panic through his system.
Just as it did in that very moment.
He closed his eyes when a calming hand stroked the back of his neck, soothing the sudden tension away with ease.
The quiet man in his arms was powerful, strong in his ability to ward off the fear Bull had fought so hard to keep buried these last few days. He pushed his nose into Ben’s hair, inhaling his scent, willing the strength of this silent man to invade his senses. With every minute that ticked by, another layer of tension fell away.
He hadn’t realized how quickly time had passed until the back door opened and Julian’s voice tore into their private bubble. “Sorry, man, curfew’s a bitch.”
He glanced up at Julian and nodded, reluctantly breaking free of the embrace. Julian retreated into the house and shut the door, but the fucker turned on the back light as a reminder their time was up. Bull tapped his watch when Ben backed away with a frown.
“Call me when you get home,” Ben signed.
“Video chat tonight?”
Ben nodded. “I want to make sure you get home. I want to make sure you’re okay. And I want to know what happened.” He hesitated for a moment and bit into his lip as he surveyed Bull’s face, carefully observing him as he often did. “We don’t have to if you’re too tired,” Ben added, his hand movements slow and hesitant.
“Never too tired for you.”
Ben reached out and flattened his hand against Bull’s forearm.
The caring gaze and smile aimed at him was exactly what he had needed, and the touch against his skin brushed away the last bit of tension lingering in his body. Refusing to push his luck with Julian or Matt or risk getting Ben in trouble, he signed a thank-you and stood. He made his way to his SUV a few steps away, stealing a glance back at Ben.
He had toyed with the idea of slowing things down with his work—a lighter schedule with less travel and more time at home. But an empty house with no one to share things with had killed that thought almost as quickly as it had appeared.
Until Ben.
Now, the once planted idea had finally taken root. And Bull refused to let a chance at the dream slip through his fingers.
He would come up with a plan in the coming days after his mind settled.
Tonight, he had a video chat date with Ben, and that was mission critical.
“And what about Patrick? Did you reach out to him already?”
“Yes, Bull,” Anthony said, not bothering to hide the frustrated sigh or the frown from the camera view. “And I called Shane in Chicago and Paul in Texas. We’re all on alert and have the escalated plan you sent over yesterday.”
Bull nodded as he took another sip of his coffee. Sitting at his worktable for an early morning conference call with only a few hours of sleep to fuel him wasn’t his idea of a good morning, but he had a big to-do list to get through. Everyone at Davenport headquarters knew about Rachel’s meetings as did everyone she met with and likely their business teams. Narrowing down the list of suspects with such a large pool would have exhausted far more resources.
“Did you have the call with Vic?” Anthony asked.
Bull shook his head as he set his mug on the tabletop. “No. I gave him a heads-up I was stopping by his office after we wrap up our call. I want to make sure I have his undivided attention.”
“Do you mind giving us a few minutes?” Rachel asked, squeezing Anthony’s shoulder.
Anthony looked into the camera and smirked. “Someone’s in trouble.” He rose from the office chair and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Jerk. The prick had a little more pep in his step than usual.
Rachel sat in Anthony’s chair and remained quiet for a few beats before she finally spoke. “How are you holding up?”
“I should ask you the same.”
She scoffed. “I’m fine. There’s no way you would have let me get shot.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. “I’m worried about you.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her comment.
“The bullet was really close.”
“I’ve been shot before.”
She shook her head. “Something’s different, Bull. It rattled you and that never happens.”
“I’m not…rattled.”
She leaned closer to the screen. “I call bullshit. Pun intended.”
“Funny. I’ve never heard that one before,” he commented, loading his words with ample sarcasm. He leaned back and crossed his arms. That morning, he had sent out a message to his usual protection detail clients. Along with the notification that his services in that area were no longer available, he had offered a list of referrals for competent replacements. Building-plan reviews and security assessments were still offered, but nothing that would require him to travel excessively or put his life at risk. He had come close. Too damn close to losing a chance at the dream. The missed shot had been a sign he couldn’t—wouldn’t—ignore.
Over a decade of working together, she would eventually figure it out. She knew him well enough to—
“It’s because of Ben. Isn’t it?”
That didn’t take long. He shrugged, wondering if a career change at this point in his life was a smart move. He had accumulated plenty of money over the years, enough to never worry about the stability of his financial future. But the routine of everyday life would take some adjustment. The slower pace had been a battle after his time in service and the loneliness at home had made him restless. He welcomed a second chance to get it right, especially knowing he would have more time with Natalie at the shop and a chance to see where things led with Ben.
He fidgeted with his coffee mug. “You need to give me a selling price.”
“For?”
“The penthouse.”
“And why do I need to do that, Mr. del Toro?”
“It was my retainer for being on call for protection detail during your Miami visits, working with Anthony on establishing the security infrastructure for your company, and assessing new acquisitions. That was the deal.”
“But you’ll still be working remotely with Anthony on any necessary security protocol changes as well as taking steps to ensure I have a security detail in place for my Miami visits. And I know you’re always available when I need you. Nothing has changed.”
“But I won’t be protecting you.”
“Not directly, no. But you’re still watching over me. Just like you promised you would always do.” Her stare remained steady, mentioning a promise he made to her late husband on his death bed was pure emotional manipulation. And she knew it. “Do not challenge me, Mr. del Toro. You will not win.”
“It’s fair that I pay.”
“Consider it a gift. Merry Christmas.”
“It’s the end of February.”
“Then happy belated Valentine’s Day.”
He grabbed his mug and stood, giving Rachel a well-deserved glare before disappearing from the camera’s view. He walked across the living room and into the kitchen. He rinsed out his mug in the sink, taking far more time than needed. So many things flashed through his mind. Work, family, friends. His life, schedule, relationships. Every scenario of how things would change swirled in a vortex. This was a big step. Even though his work often had him traveling from one side of the globe to the other, he liked structure, routine, and always had a plan. He wasn’t a gambling man by nature, but he was all in for a chance with Ben. And he damn sure wasn’t going to let a bullet stop him.
“I know you can still hear me!”
“No, I can’t,” he yelled out, shaking his head when he heard her soft sn
icker. He dried his hands and returned to his seat.
“You’re a logical man,” Rachel said, barely giving him a chance to settle in again. “You’ve worked for me for years. Years, Bull. And while I know you also freelance with other clients, I’m well aware you’ve always given me priority.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I also know what your usual rate is, and it’s nowhere near what you charge me. So if you were to add up all those hours at your usual pay scale, I would likely owe you money after the sale of the penthouse. Consider it compensation for all the time you’ve spent working for me.”
He sighed. He opened his mouth to continue his argument but stopped the moment Rachel raised a polished fingernail.
“The monthly expenses and maintenance fees are waived for your continued work with Anthony. I expect you to work remotely with him to establish a plan for existing and future holdings, just as you have done all these years. If it makes you feel better, we can agree that you must remain working with the company for one more year in exchange for the waiver of fees to remain valid in perpetuity.”
He glared at her while she hid a smile. “I don’t need the gift or the incentive. You know I’ll work for you as long as you’ll have me.”
“Damn you’re stubborn.” She shook her head. “You’ve always been loyal. To me and to Howard. You’re more like that overbearing big brother I never had and always wanted. This is my way of showing gratitude. Please accept the gift.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Fine. You win.”
“I do love the sound of that.”
They shared a chuckle.
“I’ll get legal to draw up the contract so everything is official. Then I don’t ever want to hear about this nonsense again. We’ve got important things to discuss.”
“Agreed.”
She glanced over her shoulder to the closed office door behind her, then returned her attention to the call. Leaning forward, she cupped her face in her hands and smiled into the camera. “Now, tell me about Ben. I want to know about the guy who has you all soft and gooey inside.”