by Finn, Emilia
Lib is scared of flying… and she’s jealous when women fuck me with their eyes.
Olly picked us up at the airport and drove us straight here, and despite Lib’s general animosity toward the fact I called a driver rather than drive my own damn self somewhere, she’s been cool about this new world she’s found herself in.
That was until we walked into my office and stood at the massive windows.
Turns out Lib isn’t necessarily afraid of flying, but of heights.
“I don’t think this is gonna work.” She turns away from her long study of the forty or so levels of nothingness outside my windows. “There are way too many flights to run down in an emergency. Where the hell is your brain? Why do rich folks insist on the top floor, when it’s the most dangerous? It seems so… dumb.”
With a smirk and immense pleasure in seeing her walk my office in skintight jeans, a navy-blue tank, and a light coat with a hood and sleeves with camo print, I sit at my desk and watch her move. It’s such a simple thing – walking. It’s absolutely not something that should be seductive, but the way Libby does it… there’s no mistaking she’s a cop. There’s not a soul on this planet I could deny it to. She exudes the law, so much so that I question; does the blood in her veins run red, like Tate’s, or blue, because she’s more cop than she is human?
It seems to make up her very DNA, and despite my dislike for her kind, this particular cop gets my attention every time. “I guess we like to sit at the top of our kingdom, Lib. We climbed it, we risked life and limb to get here.”
“And now you risk life and limb if some dumb shit on the third floor cooks grilled cheese for lunch and forgets to turn the grill off. Are you willing to trust your life to Gerald in accounting on the third floor?”
I wave her off with a dismissive flick of my wrist and power up my computer, but my smile remains. I can’t honestly say I’ve ever worn a real smile in this office before.
And that’s kinda sad, now that I think about it.
“Sit down, Lib. I need maybe an hour, then we can hit the road.”
“Better organize that kingdom.” Instead of sitting, she walks away from the windows and peruses the massive wall of bookshelves. They’re mostly technical guides, with the odd novel thrown in when someone sends me one and wants me to read it and endorse.
I never do.
My computer powers up with an almost sizzle in the air, and when a picture of Libby pops up – a scan of a drawing of a nine-year-old girl – I smile and allow myself a minute of staring.
I knew, even back then, that she was mine. I knew it in my gut, and once we shook on it, I knew where my life was headed. I hadn’t come back for her yet only because I wasn’t ready.
Now, as I stare at the drawing of that little girl, I realize the boy in me was protecting her from the man. He knew I didn’t deserve her. Not with the hate in my heart, not with the animosity I felt, or the poison that ruled my every decision.
I couldn’t have her until I was ready to let the rest go.
“Hey, Lib?”
Caught stroking the spine of one of the few novels, she turns to me and lifts a brow. She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t have to. She feels absolutely no pressure to indulge or impress me the way many others do. She’s still the chubby girl who spat in her hand before shaking mine.
There’s nowhere for us to go from there but up. Together.
“Do you think it would be appropriate to send Jess something for the babies?”
My heart throbs with nerves and uncertainty, but Lib doesn’t make me suffer. Dropping her hand, she lets her lips curl into a small grin as she folds her arms and saunters in my direction. “I think that’s a lovely idea. I’m kinda proud of you for considering it.”
“Do you think…” I pull in a long breath and rub my hands over my face as she stops at my desk and perches her ass on the edge. “Do you think the guys will get mad? It’s not really my place.”
“No, I think they’ll accept it for what it is.”
I reach across my desk and pick up the very same letter opener I stole more than two decades ago. I’ve held onto it all this time. I study the Hayes inscription on the side – something I didn’t even notice that day in the club. I didn’t notice it for days, and when I did, I tossed the damn thing far away from my bed of cardboard and vermin. But it was my only protection, my only link to home, so I picked it up again and held it the way I imagine Libby held my sweater.
“And what is it, Lib?” I look up to find her watching my hands.
Does she know it’s the same one? Or is she simply picturing us like this from forever ago? Somehow, we always end up like this; I’ll watch over her shoulder, and she’ll watch me.
“You say they’ll accept it for what it is.” I pause. “So what is it?”
“A peace offering, perhaps?” She pulls the inside of her cheek between her teeth as though in thought. “I think they’ll see it as you saying congratulations, and that you’re willing to play nice. You’re not a threat to them, and they’re not a threat to you.”
I frown. “But that’s not true. I am a threat to them, just as surely as they’re a threat to me. A week ago, they had no clue I existed. And now, because of you and the powers you possess simply by walking around in panties, I no longer have that layer of protection.”
She grins. “I’ll protect you.” Resting a hand on the desk, she leans forward and waits for me to accept her kiss. “I will always protect you, Gunner. I kinda love you, so…”
“Lifetime protection?”
“And a strong suggestion you relocate your office and living space to the bottom floor.”
I laugh, but stop again when my office door opens and Annaliese steps in with a shy smile. She has no reason to be shy, no reason to be unsure of her position at Griffin Industries.
We may have… spent time together in the past. But that was a long time ago, and she’s managed to remain loyal to the company and thoroughly competent. I would hate to lose one of my best staff because Libby is here.
“Oh, sorry, sir.” Her eyes go rounder as she focuses on the woman sitting on my desk. Libby’s posture. Libby’s playful grin. They met on the way in, but it was fast and formal, and Libby wasn’t yet in a playful mood. But now she’s on my desk, her lips were on mine only seconds ago, and now Annaliese’s fiery cheeks are turning pale. “I just wanted to bring your messages in, but I can email them if you like.”
“No, it’s okay. Come on in.” I tap Lib’s thigh and smile when she rolls her eyes and sits up again. I wouldn’t care if she stayed on the end of my desk, but she doesn’t. She plops to her sneakered feet and moves back to the bookshelf, and as the women pass, Annaliese does a kind of mini-curtsy, while Lib’s brows pop high and her eyes come to mine in disbelief.
Libby doesn’t do pretense. She doesn’t do formal. Or curtsies. Or weird girl rituals.
She does palm knives when certain stewardesses unfasten too many buttons on their too-small blouses, but other than that, she’s here, she’s claimed me as hers, and in her head, that’s the end of it.
“I might just sit here.” She drops down onto a long sofa beside the bookshelf, and instead of selecting a book, she snatches up one of the dozens of Griffin tablets and swipes across the screen. “And I might see if I can order a gift for Jess.”
“Not too expensive,” I argue. Both women look at me as though I’ve lost my mind. “I just mean, don’t make it look too expensive. I don’t want the guys claiming I’m trying to flash or whatever.”
Lib rolls her eyes. “You’re overthinking this, Griffin. Stop fretting, I’ll take care of it.”
Okay. Whatever. Don’t overthink it. I pull in a long breath, and let it out again when Annaliese stops in front of my desk. It wouldn’t be out of character for her to drop into the chair opposite mine and settle in for a minute. But not today. She’s on her best behavior now that another woman is here.
“Sir.”
“What did I miss?”
“Rogers sends his thanks for payment on the doors.”
I chuckle. “Of course he does. Sniveling little prick. We’re not using him again. I don’t do lazy or stupid.”
Annaliese nods and makes notes on her Griffin tablet.
“With your permission, those detectives spent the last couple days combing our files. They took what they wanted, gave me a receipt, and said they’d destroy their copies when they’re done.”
“You do something illegal, Griffin?”
I take a blue and red hacky sack from my top drawer and toss it at Lib’s head without breaking composure for my astute assistant. “No. Zip it.”
Annaliese can’t handle this new atmosphere. She can’t handle such drastic change, so when Libby pegs the hacky sack right back and lands it on my solar plexus, I genuinely wonder if Annaliese might just pass out. “Um… sir, I don’t… I’m not sure…”
“It’s okay. Relax. What else?”
“Um…Olly said he’s taking off for the rest of the day, unless you need him for anything.”
“No.” Squishing the hacky sack between my hands, I shoot one last glance toward Libby as she scrolls, taps, smiles, and spends my money. “We’re heading out this afternoon too. I’ll be out of the office for the whole week.”
Dutifully, Annaliese begins taking notes.
“I’ll be available by email only, but I want you to try to condense them. Instead of a hundred emails, send me one with the important stuff collated. If something needs immediate attention, send me a text. I’ll check that.” I look up to Libby. “Good?”
She grins. “Good.”
I turn back to Annaliese. “Do not call me unless you’re literally on fire. And even then, probably call the fire department. I don’t want my phone to ring once. And I’m blocking all texts but yours. If you text and force me to read it, it better be important, or I’ll set you on fire. Other than that, email. I’ll read and reply to those periodically through the day. Morning, noon, and night.”
“Morning and night.” Lib flashes a wide grin when we glance over to her. “Please.”
I shrug. “Okay, morning and night. So make it important, and delegate everything you can delegate.”
“Yes, sir. Want me to have the house set up? Marianne can come in this afternoon and stock the kitchen.”
“No servants,” Libby coughs.
Chuckling, I toss the hacky sack from one hand to the other. “No, we’re not going to the house anyway. We’re going to the cabin, but I don’t want you to tell anyone where we’ll be. Let the staff think I’m right here. Let Olly know where I am, but other than that, it’s on lockdown. If… uh…” I look to Libby and swallow my nerves. “If anyone with the name Bishop calls here, tell them to call my cell. I’ll take their calls…” I look away when she gives an encouraging smile. “Maybe. I’ll see how I feel at the time. But don’t tell them I’m away.”
“Yes, sir. And if the detectives want to speak with you about Zhang?”
“They can suck my cock and wait until we get back. I am not a part of Zhang’s dealings, and we’ve been more than accommodating with the cops on that.” Lib chuckles when the word cop comes out on an almost hiss. “They can wait, and I will not be taking their calls. If they need something, send it in an email, I’ll read it in my allocated screen time.”
I smile when Libby chuckles. She’s pretending to be fully immersed in her task, but her smile and bouncing shoulders say she has absolutely no idea what’s on her screen.
Unfortunately for her, I know what’s on her screen, because it feeds through to mine.
She absentmindedly scrolls through gift-shop knick-knacks. Flowers. Teddies. Baby clothes. It makes my heart sigh when she clicks on a twin set of dresses. You would think she’d settle on the flowers, or the rainbows, or the unicorns.
But does she?
No. She stops on the matching red dresses with little white dinosaurs. One click, two, ‘do you want to confirm your purchase?’
Yes. She sends my heart and a bouquet of flowers over the internet to be delivered to the hospital while those baby girls are merely twenty-four hours old, and when she feels my stare, she glances up and meets my eyes.
“All done. Can we go now?”
“Thank you.” I look to the image on my screen and stare for a moment longer. Both women watch me. One wears a smile and adoring eyes, and the other looks like she’s worried for my mental stability. In all these years, Annaliese has never seen me act so… well… like Gunner, instead of Theo. “And yes, we can go.” I don’t bother opening my emails like I’d intended when I sat down. I can check those later, and Annaliese has full access, so if there was something I needed to see, she would have led with that.
Switching the computer off again, I stand tall and grin when Lib tosses the tablet aside with a happy squeak and slides straight under my arm when I lift it. I pull her into my side and luxuriate in the way she fits herself to me without hesitation. There was a mere second of uncertainty in the past few weeks, but once we made the decision we were in, it happens just like that. We’re in, and that means there’s no room for anything but us.
Because we don’t want to be seen heading out, Lib and I ride the private elevator up to my apartment so I can pack bags. There’s a large part of me that enjoys showing my world off to her. My apartment is massive and luxurious, the view is amazing – to anyone but her. I’ve considered telling the world that we’re heading to the cabin, only to actually stay here, but the way Lib turns green at the view outside my living room windows makes me reconsider.
We’re going to the tiny cabin hidden in the forest three hours from here.
I move through my things with practiced moves, pack a case, toss every electronic away except one cell, one laptop, and one tablet.
It’s the best I can do. It’s the minimum my brain can handle, so I tuck those into one laptop bag, and when I’m done, I head into my open-plan living space to find her looking in my refrigerator.
Tight jeans cup her ass, and strong shoulders flex as she holds on to the freezer door. She’s so short that the handle for the freezer is in line with her face.
“You good?” I ask her back.
“You eat way too much turkey, Gun–” She stops, closes the door, and turns to me. “Griffin. Way too much turkey. Don’t you feel bad for being the reason all those birds died?”
“You’d rather I killed more chickens? Are those birds more deserving of death?” I place my bags on the end of my L-shaped couch and continue forward until I can circle the counter and pull her against my chest. I tease her for being short, I complain of a sore neck and her inability to reach things up high, but I’m so in love with her exactly the way she is. She’s compact and stronger than any woman I know. She’s capable, and short or not, she doesn’t make me nervous for her safety.
Not while she’s here, anyway. Being on shift at work is a whole other story that I’m not sure how I’ll handle.
“I’m ready to go.”
“Yeah?” She reaches up and wraps her arms around my neck. “We’re stopping at the store on the way there, right?”
“Right. No servants, which means we buy groceries and cook for ourselves.”
“And no turkey…” she pauses. “Right?”
“Turkey is cheap, Elizabeth! Can you shut up about the turkey?”
“It’s gross. I like real turkey. Like, the actual bird at Thanksgiving, with the drumstick and stuffing and sides. But you buy ground, leftover meat they find on the factory floor. Of course it’s cheap! It’s leftover shit. How can you stomach that?”
“Does it bother you that you never grew since you were nine?”
“Ugh!” She pulls back and slams her fist into my chest hard enough to rob the oxygen from my lungs. “I am five and a half feet tall. That’s not short. It is perfectly average. Google it!”
“You’re five-three and three quarters at the most. Don’t lie, Elizabeth. I’ll get the ruler out if I have to.”
�
�I hate ground turkey,” she growls. “And I hate you. I could solve all of my problems if I pushed you into the machine that grinds that meat up.”
“But then who would snuggle you at night?” Chuckling, I pull her in and bark out a laugh when she slams her fist into my stomach. “Are you sure a week alone is a good idea? We might not come out alive.”
“I’ll be fine. But you definitely should be scared.” She pulls away, but only to snatch a green apple from the crystal bowl on the end of my counter, and crossing my living room, she stops at the elevator doors. “I’m ready to go. Even if I hate you, I still wanna go.”
“Hey, Libby?” I pass my couch and snatch up my bags, then meet her at the elevator door as it dings open.
“Hmm?” This elevator is much smaller than the others in my building. Those can carry twelve people at a time. This one barely fits two, so we cram in close together, and when the doors shut again, I take up all of Libby’s space so she’s crushed against the side.
I press my chest to hers, my thighs to hers, and finally, my lips to hers. “This is gonna be great.”
“Probably gonna hate each other by the end of the week.”
I smile and nibble on her lips. “But what if it goes the other way? What if we have the most amazing time and you agree to be mine forever?”
The beauty of being this close means I can feel when her heart gives a heavy thud. “I kinda already agreed to that.”
“Yeah?” I give one more nip of her lips as the elevator doors ding open in the dark parking garage. “Forever?”
“Despite my common sense and all the alarms ringing in my brain that you’re probably gonna be a terrible husband, it would seem I’m stuck.”
“Your husband?” I pull back with wide eyes. “Whoa, Elizabeth. We’ve only just met. You’re gonna scare me off with this commitment talk.”
“I hate you.” She shoves me off so hard that I drop my suitcase, then pushing out of the elevator, she stalks into the unknown and frowns at the fleet of cars awaiting us. “Which one is yours?”