Protecting His Assets

by Cari Quinn

  “Hockey players,” Chase muttered, earning Jax’s grunt of assent.

  “So now both Dixon siblings hate me.” Jax forked up mashed potatoes. “It’s a talent I have, I tell you.”

  “If I hated you, would I have asked you to meet me?”

  “Hard to say. You always were a contrary bastard.”

  Only Jax’s smile kept Chase from tossing back something equally obnoxious. But that wasn’t what he was here for, and truth be told, he owed the guy. Big time. If he was looking out for Cass—especially when Chase hadn’t been around to do so—that made up for a lot of negative history. “That may be so, but I have a business proposition for you.”

  Jax slung his arm back over the booth again, but Chase could tell the pose was for show more than from true relaxation. “You didn’t know I was getting out of ball now, yet you’re here with business ideas for me. Or does it have to do with the game? If so, I’ll have to decline. I already have a career opportunity to pursue—”

  “I want to start a security agency,” Chase interrupted. He loved the dude—had once loved him—but Jax could out-talk any female. He’d gotten Chase in trouble for whispering during class all through school, and he’d probably happily resume old habits if Chase let him. There would be no getting in trouble now. His brain would just ooze out of his ear. “I’m thinking about what’s next for me and realistically, I can’t keep playing forever.” Maybe not even next year. “So I want you to come in with me, help me set it up.”

  Jax dropped his fork to stare at him. “Come again? You want to be partners?”

  “I didn’t exactly say partners—”

  “Then I can exactly say no, end of story. You want to talk turkey, come to the negotiation with more than a damn drumstick.” His frown lifted magically as their waitress came over to the table. “Hey, darlin’, think you can get me some of that apple pie you have on special? I’d appreciate it.”

  “Sure thing.” She glanced at Chase. “You too, sugar?”

  Pie and old times. When in Yardley… Chase shrugged. “Sure. Why not? Make it peach for me though, please.”

  “Such manners you two have.” She pinched Jax’s cheek and earned herself a grin with dimples. Chase rolled his eyes and wished he’d ordered a beer. “Be right back. Finish up that meatloaf so you don’t insult the cook,” she said before leaving the table.

  “Cook.” Chase snorted and went back to his mashed potatoes. They weren’t half bad. They had rosemary and thyme in them, like any decent restaurant. His pissy mood was unfairly coloring hapless spuds now.

  “So back to business. Bodyguard agency, hmm? How’d you get there?”

  “Been thinking about it for a while. And I have a client already.”

  “Oh yeah? Who’s that?”

  “Sunny Z.” Chase’s lips twisted. “You remember Summer Maitland? Cass’s friend?”

  “Sure. Little thing. Big personality. Real flirty and fun. Nice tits.” At Chase’s narrowed eyed glance, Jax sighed and raised his gaze to the ceiling in an apparent bid for celestial help. “Now what? I get why you don’t want me looking at your sister that way, but Summer too?”

  “Summer is as off-limits as Cass, so watch yourself.”

  “Why’s that?” The corner of Jax’s mouth lifted and out came the dimple on that side. It mocked Chase almost as much as the gleam in his eyes. “You feeling brotherly toward her too? Or just especially friendly?”

  “You know, for a guy who’s supposed to be a reformed pussy-magnet, you damn sure seem to be on the make. Keep it in your pants for ten and let me explain.” When their pies arrived, Chase nodded and gestured. “Good. Fill your mouth up with that.”

  “Cranky and contrary. Nice combo.”

  But Jax ate his pie and listened while Chase ran through what had happened with Summer at the club and the ideas he’d been having about starting an agency. By the end of it, the pie was down to crumbs and Jax’s wary expression had turned into pure curiosity.

  “What about training? Neither of us has worked in the security field before.”

  “Says who? I worked as a bouncer.”

  “Oh yeah? For how long?”

  Chase leaned back and spread his legs. “It’s not all about length, boy. Don’t you know anything?”

  Jax pulled off a piece of the flaky crust and popped it in his mouth. “So you’re talking out of your ass, as usual. Lemme guess. You only bounced for one night.”

  Not even a full night. Chase cleared his throat. “So what kind of training?”

  “There has to be classes, right? In security techniques and martial arts or whatever…” At Chase’s eyeroll, Jax sighed. “I’ll look into it, if we’re going to be partners.”

  That again. “I hadn’t gotten as far as the partners thing, but then I thought I’d be flying solo for a while anyway. I was prepared for you to only be a part-time employee.”

  “Partner. Not employee. We don’t go in halves, we don’t go in at all.” Jax laced his fingers together. “Where are you thinking of setting up this agency? You’re not even local, are you?” He wanted to say more, Chase could tell. Jax must’ve developed restraint in the last decade, since he could fish with the best of them.

  “Not local to Yardley, but neither are you. Right now I’m based in New York. I’m, ah, pursuing treatment for a slight injury.”

  He didn’t appreciate or want Jax’s sympathetic glance at his pitching arm. So his ex-best friend had heard the rumors there too. They were surfacing more often now, especially in his and Jax’s circles. And apparently those of avid “fans” like Mark from the club. No matter how Chase had tried to keep the information on a need-to-know basis, word always traveled eventually. Luckily Jax didn’t comment.

  “Yeah, well, I’m about to be local to Yardley again. I got an offer here too good to turn down. Not this one,” Jax put in. “Though this one’s certainly got my attention too.”

  Knowing Jax wanted him to ask, Chase said nothing.

  “So little Summer, a singer. I should go check her out. Maybe bring Cass—”

  “No can do. She’s not telling anyone about this career of hers yet. Her choice,” he put in when Jax started to argue. “She’s the client. We don’t tell her how to run her business. We need to run ours.”

  “Has she actually paid you for anything yet?”

  “No. Since I don’t have a fee structure set up, I was thinking I’d take her on pro-bono, at least for a while. She’s a good kid,” he added gruffly when Jax continued to stare.

  “Good kid. Uh huh. Right.” Jax motioned to their waitress. “Hey, honey, think we need some more pie. And keep it coming. We’re going to be here a while.”

  Summer paced backstage in the Vienna Room, her phone to her ear. Behind her Kyle’s strumming scraped over nerves rubbed raw. “I know I said I’d work tomorrow. And I will. I just can’t be there at the crack of dawn, Cass. I’ll be in as soon as I can.”

  “Are you in trouble?”

  “For God’s sake, no. You’re no better than your brother.”

  The momentary silence let her know she’d gone too far. “Have you seen Chase?”

  Summer wanted to ask, “Haven’t you?” but she held her tongue. It surprised her more than a little that Chase hadn’t been by to see his sister now that he had so much more free time, but since she was currently hiding out from Chase herself, she couldn’t fault him for his vanishing act. “Yeah, briefly. A few weeks ago. We ended up in the same club. He looks good.” Too good. Lickable wasn’t an overstatement. “He was as overprotective of me as he always is. Just like you. Maybe someday you’ll both realize I’m an adult with my own money and my own life and my own vagina.”

  Kyle’s plucking came to a halt. Vaginas weren’t his favorite topic of conversation, but then again, she was pretty sure he wouldn’t enjoy discussing cocks either. He had a sense of decorum she did not possess. Summer tossed him an apologetic glance over her shoulder and mouthed, “Sorry.”

  “I’m pretty su
re I was already aware of that, especially the vagina situation since yours gets a lot more use than mine. Beeyotch.” The affection in Cass’s tone made Summer smile. “Look, I’ll back off, okay? Come in when you can tomorrow. I may be done with inventory when you get here, but we can always marathon taste test. And promise me you’ll call if you drink too much and need a ride tonight or whatever. Anytime, from anywhere. Promise me, Sum. Please.”

  Summer sighed and clenched the end of the braid she’d tossed over one shoulder. It fit the peasant skirt and floaty blouse she’d worn tonight. The Vienna Room had a relaxed coffeehouse vibe, and she’d dressed to match. She kept tripping on the darn skirt and her lace-up granny boots were squeezing the life out of her bigger-than-waif-sized calves, but whatever. She looked the part. “I won’t be drinking tonight. Much,” she amended, thinking of her flask. “I’ll be totally safe, I promise. But if I need you, I’ll call. Now go do something fun with your Friday night and stop stressing over me, okay?”

  “If you insist.” Cass’s long-suffering sigh made Summer grin. “Though I’m not stressing about you, I’m merely inquiring—”

  “No need. I’ll be happily orgasming by the end of the night, no worries.” A small lie, but better that Cass think she was hooking up than pursuing a music career. If she was worried now, that would send her into full freak-out mode. Her best friend would be certain Summer had embarked on a path to drugs and danger and emotional ruin.

  Summer couldn’t yet say she was wrong—at least about the emotional ruin part—but it didn’t matter. She’d finally started going after her dreams, and she couldn’t turn back now.

  “New guy?” Cass asked. “No, I’m not jealous. Not even a little. Okay, I’m lying.”

  Summer laughed. “Night, Cass. And goodbye. See you tomorrow.” She depressed the end button, turning into a solid wall of muscle bearing a T-shirt that warned about a Vampire Weekend. She looked up, finally connecting gazes with the surprisingly unamused subject of the bulk of her thoughts for the last two weeks. Her chest went tight. “You again.”

  So much for not telling him where she was appearing. Hell, she hadn’t even returned any of his many, many phone calls and texts. Not that it seemed to matter. Bloodhounds looked like shoddy investigators compared to Chase All-Knowing Dixon.

  Right now, Dick for short.

  “Me.” Chase clamped his arms over his broad chest and lifted a brow in that paternalistic way he had that really turned her thongs inside out. “Orgasming, hmm? That’s what you say on the phone in a public place?” He didn’t give her time to respond before he seized her elbow and propelled her to a shadowy alcove not far from where Kyle had resumed warming up. She’d lay odds poor Kyle was going to be interrupted again anytime now, probably from the screams or the bloodshed. Perhaps both. “Also, now that I see you do, in fact, know how to operate a phone, I’d appreciate you returning my calls.”

  “There were too many. You jammed the switchboard.”

  “Right. Bet you have them all saved.” He snatched her phone out of her hand and scrolled to her voicemail, his big thumbs surprisingly agile. His mouth stretched into a tight line as he held her cell to his ear while his voice boomed out from the speaker.

  She rolled her eyes and looked away. “I saved them to respond to later.”

  “When? After the show?”

  He knew her too well. “How did you find out where I’d be performing?”

  “I have my ways.” He handed her back the phone, that eyebrow still deliberately arched. “I’ll be here tonight through the show. After it’s over, I’ll drive you back home.”

  “I don’t need a chaperone.”

  “Good. Chaperoning’s not part of my standard fee.” His gaze drifted down her attire, his focus seeming to snag momentarily above her stomach. Sweet Mary, could he actually have noticed she had breasts? He’d had a chance to see them pretty clearly a couple of weeks ago on the couch, but he hadn’t acted particularly impressed at that time.

  Massive boner aside, though she figured that had come from simple morning biology and not her smokin’ body.

  “So back to the orgasm you were discussing on the phone,” he said pleasantly. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder in Kyle’s direction. “Don’t tell me you and the banjo dude swap fingering lessons between sets? Nice guitar, by the way. Glad to see he’s not a one-instrument pony.”

  Kyle, upon glancing up and discovering he was being visually dissected by a broody, brawny baseball player, faltered on the strings. He frowned and lifted his hand in a half wave, as if he recognized Chase from The Platinum Club. Or maybe he was trying to make friends with the alien life form? Either way, Chase wasn’t having it. His mouth curled into a sneer.

  A very sexy sneer, but a sneer nonetheless.

  “Kyle, this is Chase. He’s one of my childhood playmates,” she said in her most saccharine sweet voice. Even without looking at him, she could tell by Chase’s instantly rigid posture he didn’t appreciate her assessment of their relationship. Well, too bad. Let him stay in Queens where he belonged and stop nosing into her business. “Chase, this is Kyle, my number one string man.” Kyle was in a committed relationship with his hotter-than-Hades boyfriend, but Chase could take that statement any way he wanted to.

  She strode away without waiting for a response from either of them. It was time to get ready for the show, which meant warm-ups in the back hallway nearest the exit where the acoustics were the best. It was also humid as hell back there, and the proximity to the bathrooms wasn’t ideal, but a girl had to get her sang on where she could.

  Chase followed. She could practically feel his warm, minty breath on the back of her neck, causing a shiver she couldn’t control. But she picked her chosen spot in the hallway anyway, closed her eyes and opened her mouth.

  She went through the scales, focusing on breathing from her diaphragm and exerting the muscles in her stomach until they burned. Once wasn’t enough. She went through them methodically for several minutes, ignoring the footsteps that clomped past her and the occasional whispers or muttered comments. The whistle she assumed was aimed her way made her smile, but she didn’t open her eyes. This was her job, and she took it seriously.

  Besides, if she didn’t look around, she couldn’t see Chase watching her. Evaluating. Probably finding her lacking.

  To him, she was nothing more than a wild little girl on the run who couldn’t take care of herself. Nothing quite so hot as feeling like you needed to hold out a burp cloth for somebody. And in her case, he’d yet to even stop supporting her head. She hated behaving like a teenager stuck in an endless tantrum loop, but God, he pushed her buttons.

  Especially that big, pulsing one between her legs.

  Oh no, oops, that was just her favorite fantasy. Except he didn’t use his fingers. He used those delicious full lips, always one twist of derision away from a smirk. That conceited expression shouldn’t have been a turn-on. The breath she’d carefully conserved for her scales also shouldn’t have immediately wheezed out of her upon turning her head and catching him staring.

  Shoulda, coulda, nothing. He did it for her. Always had, always would.

  He cocked his head and braced one sneakered foot against the wall, his green eyes barely glittering slashes in the dim light of the hall. “You know how birds sing no matter how small their cage?” he asked, his voice sandpaper rough. “That’s you. Your voice is huge.”

  “I have to project in case the acoustics aren’t—”

  “It’s a compliment.”

  She didn’t know how to respond, so she looked down at her boots while her pulse beat a primal rhythm in her throat. Her vocal cords seemed to throb with her nerves. With her excitement.

  For the show, yes. But not only the show. Chase was here, and even if she tried to force back the urge, she’d be singing for him. To him. In her music, he wouldn’t turn her down. He couldn’t. That was the one place she felt sexy beyond compare.

  “I’ll be right down front.” T
he words were laced with something low and throbbing, or else she couldn’t hear him clearly through the haze of her own need. Singing always brought her emotions to the surface, and having him so close in such a confined space was wreaking havoc on her libido—and her heart. “If you need me, pull your braid. If anyone gets too close, or makes you uncomfortable, give me that signal and a directional like this.” He pressed his finger to the side of his muscled thigh. “I’ll figure it out.”

  “You really don’t have to do this. This is such a mellow place. Really. I’ve performed here several times and I’ve never had a problem.”

  “Don’t fight me any more on this, Summer. I’m staying.” And what he didn’t say, but came through loud and clear in his expression: work with me.

  So she would, because she really did appreciate having a friend around. He had a busy life, whether or not he was playing ball, yet he’d taken the time to find out where she was and go there to make sure she was okay. He was a good friend, when he wasn’t being an ass.

  “Thank you for coming.” The words came out more softly than she’d intended, but he nodded.

  “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  While she pondered that enigmatic statement, he walked away to take up his post in front of the stage.

  After a moment, she followed. Looked like she’d gotten herself a bodyguard, whether or not she wanted one.

  Chapter Five

  Another Saturday, another show. Another session of sublime torture.

  Though this would only be the second evening since Chase had started guarding Summer, he’d already realized that he might be in over his head. His saving grace was that he spent limited time in her sphere. Two hours max per night, so far only once per week. No biggie.

  So he wanted her, just like every other guy who glimpsed her singing her heart—and all the rest of her—out. Unlike them, he wouldn’t allow himself to even make a play. He had to keep her safe and that took precedence over everything else. Distractions weren’t a weakness he could indulge.