ROYAL LEAK #1: Ripley Hale needs a bodyguard. Uncertain about who that'll be.
ROYAL LEAK #2: Farrow Hale found a used pregnancy test in the penthouse.
#TodaysLeaks #WhoIsPregnant? #solvethemystery
I go still.
Someone overheard me talking about Ripley, but I can’t recall which room I said baby needs a bodyguard in. But that’s not the biggest shocker. We’re all looking at Farrow.
His eyes are narrowed on the phone. “See, this is fishy as fuck.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I found a negative pregnancy test on the bathroom counter, and I said, it’s negative to Maximoff.”
“It was Jane’s,” Thatcher informs us.
Farrow lifts his brows. “So why did the mole leave that shit out?”
It’s half the truth. “To stir up drama,” I say aloud.
Now there’s certain to be speculation about which girl is pregnant in the families. And recently, a leak stated that Sulli went off birth control.
I push my hair back.
Banks says, “Sulli is being set-up.”
Thatcher looks to his brother. “Media could predict Jane. One of the leaks is about us trying to have a baby.”
Banks bows his head, looking upset at either situation.
The same weight bears on the back of my neck, but I have to keep my head upright. To the tailor, I ask, “Can you give us a few minutes?”
He nods and shuffles away.
“That knock knock joke,” I mention, “what Oscar said before about big dick bait—he was onto something.”
“I always am,” Oscar notes.
Farrow’s brows arch like I’ve lost my mind. “It was a knock knock joke, not a guide to the end of a rainbow.”
“Go with me here, Farrow,” I say, running my thumb over my knuckles. “For the first time, the penthouse was just specifically mentioned in a leak, and the tagline hasn’t changed.” I quote, “‘These are verified and come directly from the source.’ Everything still leads back to the penthouse, and we need to ensure that’s the origin. We can bait the mole.”
“With Farrow’s big dick energy,” Donnelly says.
Everyone laughs, and Farrow rolls his eyes with a slight smile.
“No,” I say. “With lies. We have a fake conversation in each room of the house, and we see which lie leaks. Then, I’ll have surveillance come back and sweep the room.”
Oscar nods confidently. “Now, I like this.”
“I hate this,” Thatcher declares off-the-bat.
“Me too,” Farrow says. “What lie do we plan on casting out there that’ll impact our clients? And who do you want to lie because I swear, Akara, if you say Maximoff—”
“It can be about me,” Banks pipes in.
All eyes swerve on him.
“I’m the only bodyguard who’s on the website that has no connection to anyone else,” he explains. “As far as they know, I’m not dating Sulli.”
“That we know of,” I say and shake my head vigorously, not wanting Banks to sacrifice himself, but Farrow is right, I can’t choose a client.
And I’d put myself out there, but the mole hasn’t targeted me, the Oliveira brothers, or Donnelly yet. They may never.
Thatcher ends up saying, “Jane and I will do it. She’ll want to be the one.”
“Are you sure?” I ask him.
He nods. “Positive. We can handle the blowback.”
Banks slips him a side glare like that was a shot at Sulli.
He shakes his head to his brother like it wasn’t, but yeah, that felt personal. “Jane and I will come up with a list of lies,” Thatcher says, “and we’ll make a plan for each room.”
“Thank you,” I tell him.
He nods back, a small recognition that beyond our rift, we’re still here for these families and for each other.
I’m about to address everyone again when another tailor speaks louder from the back. “I’m sorry, Mr. Montgomery, but we’re going to have to order extra fabric to fit your…well, all of you really.” The tailor returns with the new 24/7 bodyguard.
Security Force Omega is now officially eight men strong.
The tailor gives Gabe Montgomery a sympathetic look and leaves him in the fitting room with us. Stocky, blond-haired, and only twenty-two like Quinn—Gabe is by far the most muscular bodyguard in my fleet.
“They really did you like that, Monty?” Donnelly asks.
“They’re just jealous of these guns.” He kisses his bicep.
“No one’s jealous of your honey baked hams,” Oscar tells him.
Gabe smiles. “It’s Thanksgiving every day over here.”
The guy might not be the brightest crayon in the box, but he’s fast for his size, intimidating at first glance, and he aced all of Michael Moretti’s training.
After a lot of consideration, I promoted him to the full-time roster as the floater. He has Banks’ old position. And he’s been doing well as Jack Highland-Oliveira’s part-time bodyguard.
Gabe is also a key element in my grand master plan.
I clasp my hands. “Okay, guys, the reshuffle.” I motion to the most tattooed bodyguard. “I’ve talked with Farrow about potentially assigning a full-time bodyguard on Ripley.”
“Potentially,” Farrow emphasizes.
I nod and explain to everyone else, “He talked with Maximoff, who’s open to the idea.” I nod towards Farrow to elaborate.
“Wolf scout likes roadmaps and not a vague picture of what that’ll look like. He also cares about who you’re reshuffling to make this work.”
Which is why I couldn’t go for the obvious pairing. Pull Donnelly off Xander and pair him with Ripley. It makes the most sense and alleviates the tension between Donnelly and Xander’s dad.
But Xander likes Donnelly.
Xander is Maximoff Hale’s younger brother.
Maximoff wants what makes Xander happy.
This was a logic puzzle that I think I nailed. “I’m sending you a written proposal for Maximoff to read over tonight,” I tell Farrow, “but I wanted to run it by everyone here first.”
They all listen carefully.
“Quinn will be transferred to Ripley’s detail. He mirrors your style of guarding, Farrow, so he should be the best fit to protect your son.”
“And Luna?” Donnelly asks before even Quinn.
I stare into him. Why is he asking about Luna? I have a weird feeling, knowing Luna is sheltering some kind of secret that we shouldn’t know. And he was the most vocal about the “tentacle porn” leak.
Please tell me they didn’t fuck.
Banks is eyeing me, then Donnelly too.
I wanted to solve the mystery, but not if it’s leading me here. I could ask him outright, but I almost don’t want to know now.
Shit.
Shoot.
Whatever the heck.
“Gabe will be transferred to Luna,” I tell everyone.
“Sweet,” Gabe says into a nod.
Donnelly goes quiet.
Farrow lifts his brows. “And you’re back to not having a floater.” He prefers having a floater on SFO so temps aren’t on Maximoff during med calls.
“Hopefully soon, Michael Moretti should have another temp ready to transition to full-time and they’ll become the new floater. How does that sound?”
“I’m game,” Quinn nods confidently, knowing this is a harder task and a bigger challenge. He looks to Farrow. “I’d protect Ripley with my life, Farrow. I’m good with kids.”
“He is,” Oscar advocates. “Babies and puppies love my bro. He’s a perfect fit.”
Farrow thinks for half-a-second. “I need to talk to Maximoff.”
I nod. “Get back to me when you can. Until then, everyone stays where they are, but the reshuffle is all in the plan.”
All in the plan.
The grand master plan.
Let’s just hope nothing fudges it up.
36
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
>
Nestled in the back of an iconic red sleigh, I snuggle up under a furry gray blanket. Bells jingle-jangle as a horse trots along a circular path around the Winter Festival. A heavy snowfall last night in Philly has made tonight a winter wonderland.
As the sleigh ride circles the festival, I soak in the romantic atmosphere. Snow and icicles coat tree limbs in a majestic, Disney-like setting. I’ve gone from The Little Mermaid to Frozen in a blink. Bulbed lights are strung along branches and trunks, and carolers sing classic holiday songs.
Around the glittering lights, kids and adults sip hot chocolate and eggnog. Sledders laugh as they whiz down the biggest hill in the distance. Others build snowmen in a contest for the Winter Fest trophy, and I see smiling families as they slip into a warm tent, full of holiday arts & crafts like ornament painting and gingerbread making.
Moffy outdid himself with his comeback.
I inhale the crisp air and eye the twinkling stars on the clearest night. When I peek beside me, I smile even more.
Unbeknownst to the guests here, I’m on a formal date.
Akara asked me out, and even if he’s on-duty, I haven’t stopped smiling, especially as I sneak glances to my left. He’s underneath the same blanket, his hand subtly on my leg and dipping closer to my inner-thigh.
I warm at his touch.
Kits looks beyond dapper, like he stepped out of a Vanity Fair fashion shoot with a black-tie theme. He’s always rocked tuxes and suits, but this one fits him like a million dollars. His smoldering gaze carries light and a twinkling smile as he sneaks glimpses of me too.
“I’m properly dressed this time,” I tell him since I’m wearing a glitzy silver jumpsuit and furry cropped jacket. Cold nips my cheeks, but a white pom beanie warms my ears. Moffy told me the guest list is mostly familiar families in the charity circle. Basically, the kids we grew up around and their parents. Socialites galore. But I really wanted to dress up for my date. Not really for anyone else.
Akara leans closer to whisper against my ear, “You look beautiful.” I start to smile more, and then he adds, “String bean.”
I elbow his side.
He laughs into my hair.
“Oh my gosh,” a teenager gasps to her friend as they stand in a line for hot cocoa and cookies. They stare right at the sleigh, at me. At Akara.
At us.
Together.
Her friend whips out a phone to snap photos, and we sort of draw a reasonable distance away.
In front of us with reins in hand, a man on the bench hardly notices the attention we attract. His back is faced to us, and he keeps guiding the horse forward.
“I knew they were together,” she says too loudly as the horse trots past them.
I ache to shout, I’m also with Banks! He’s not assigned to my detail tonight, which is why I’m on a one-on-one date with Akara.
Before guilt or weird feelings dampens the mood, I turn back to Akara and pull the blanket up to my chest. “My dad took my mom on a sleigh ride,” I tell him, “out in the snowy woods. It was before I was born.” I smile more, remembering the story well. “My mom said it was one of the most romantic things my dad has ever done for her.”
Akara smiles, his eyes glittering on me again. He tells me, “My dad was always the romantic one with my mom. He’d go the extra hundred miles. Flowers, just because. Love notes under her pillow. Poems—dang, he wrote so many poems. I have none of that in me.” His smile slowly fades in thought. “I should do more for you. Flowers, just because. Poems—”
“No,” I shake my head. “That’s not totally you, Kits.”
His breath smokes the air as he asks, “What am I then?”
“You’re the guy who eats the veggies that I fucking hate, just so I don’t have to stare at them, the guy who goes out of his way to find me donuts and cupcakes, on more than just my birthday. The guy who tosses my hair in my face to make me smile, the guy who steals my gummy bears and arm-wrestles until my bicep is sore, the guy who races after me every time I say go. You’re Kits. My Kits.”
His chest rises in a deeper breath. He holds my hand under the blanket.
Softly, I say, “And my dad isn’t the ‘just because’ flowers type either. Their romance was always in the adventures they took together.” I feel his thumb brush over my gloved knuckles. “Plus, today is your birthday. I should be wooing the holy fuck out of you.”
He laughs. “You already are wooing the holy cow out of me, Sul.”
Smiling, I edge closer to his side. Up against each other more.
His smile softens. “Birthdays aren’t always easy for me.”
I squeeze his hand. “I know.”
He squeezes back and eases against the sleigh.
His dad passed away on December 17th. Only one day before Akara’s birthday. His dad never saw him turn eighteen. In past years of celebrating Akara turning older, I can tell memories of his dad linger and drift around.
“I love that you wanted to spend your birthday on a date with me,” I mention.
“It’s already been the best birthday.”
I snort, like he’s full of it.
“I mean it, Sulli.”
The snowy festival and lights fall to my peripheral as Akara takes total center focus. I’m his main focus too.
I can’t stop staring at his kissable lips.
He keeps looking at mine.
Kiss me, Kits.
He can’t.
Not here. We divert our gazes as thunderous applause sounds from a professional ice sculpting competition.
Akara leans up to the sleigh driver. “Sir, can you stop up here?”
“Sure thing.” The sleigh slows to a halt. “You two have a good night.”
“You too,” I tell him.
Akara jumps off, then extends a hand to help me down. I could jump to show off, but any excuse to touch Akara, I’m swimming my fastest towards, like the Olympian I am. With a bigger smile, I clasp his hand, and I step off the sleigh. “Where are we going?”
“On an adventure.”
Something bursts happily inside me.
Take me, Kits.
He’s quick to lead me while I trail behind his assured footsteps. He’s reaching back, and his fingers are hooked with my fingers in a breathless embrace. This is what a bodyguard would do in a jam-packed crowd, but we’re not weaving through bodies.
I realize he just wants to hold my hand like I want to hold his.
After a pitstop where Akara buys me spiked hot cocoa, he guides me towards the entrance to a snowy garden. Green hedges are snowcapped and form a wonderland maze. Butterflies flap wildly inside me. Have I ever been anywhere this romantic?
If I have, I shirked romance away. I focused so much on my goals that I never breathed in the atmosphere, but tonight, I’m zeroed in on love.
My face hurts from smiling.
We stop at the garden’s entrance, and I sip my hot cocoa with gloves way too big for my hands. The black leather is identical to Akara’s gloves.
Earlier tonight, I saw Banks and threw a snowball at him with bare hands. Akara pelted him too, and my fingers went numb.
Banks lent me his gloves for the night.
I love him.
And I utterly fucking love the man standing in front of me. Both can be true. Both are true.
Akara steps closer, and a sliver of air between us is aching to be closed. When I drop a hand, his hand dances inches away from mine. Our fingers are charged with electricity.
He brushes his fingers against my fingers before fixing his comms mic. Our eyes latch. Energy zips from my fingertips, up my body, and into my heart.
“Kitsulli!” A young girl in puffy pink earmuffs waves a hand to us, then nudges her cluster of friends and points.
My stomach tosses. I haven’t felt this exposed since the football game, and maybe even the carnival fundraiser. I’m very attuned to the staring all of a sudden.
Out in public, the whole Kitsulli rumor is less like a whisper and more like a
banshee cry.
As I brush off the girl with zero response, her shoulders droop, dejected. To her friend, she says loudly, “Jane Cobalt would’ve waved back.”
Fuck.
I’m not Jane.
I can’t easily make myself available to strangers. Especially when these people are fans of only one guy and not the other.
Akara sees me shrink into myself, and he takes a slight step away from me but around to block the girls. He’s quelling the rumors, but the distance hurts, still. I just want to enjoy being with Akara without all the other bullshit attached.
I want to go back to the woods.
Back to our island.
Am I going to feel like that every time we’re out with strangers?
“Sulli,” he breathes out my name, seeing my hurt.
“No, you’re doing the right fucking thing,” I affirm. Kitsulli doesn’t include Banks, and the ship I want to sail involves both men.
Akara stares at my oversized gloves as I hold a mug. “Are you okay that Banks isn’t on your detail tonight?”
I nod, “I understand why.”
To support Moffy, Xander Hale left the comfort of his home for the Winter Festival. Whenever Xander braves events of this size, it’s a major ordeal. Most of the squeals I’ve heard tonight have been over him.
Akara made the call to put a second bodyguard on Xander, so my little cousin has Donnelly and Banks. He could’ve put the new floater Gabe on his detail, but Gabe is protecting Maximoff while Farrow is on med-duty for the event.
What time I do have with Akara lately is precious and not always endless. He’s juggling a lot this year, and I just cherish every little moment with him.
I tell him, “I really like that you both want to take me out separately too.” I sip my cocoa. “And I like how the three of us were together earlier. It’s just…”
“Euphoric,” Akara says with rising lips.
“Yeah.” I smile back, and I don’t think—I just feel the words as they reach me, “Like a hug and a laugh when you need it most.” That’s how we are together. It’s perfect effervescence, but no one can see that or feel that but us. “Anyway, I think the three of us would’ve broken the weight max on the sleigh if we rode together.”
Fearless Like Us Page 26
