“If you’re female or gay,” Devon told her disgustedly.
“Less of the attitude, buddy. You can judge when you get your hair cut.”
He half turned to glower at her. “What’s wrong with my hair?”
“It looks like someone put a pudding bowl on your head and cut around it. You’re lucky you have such a pretty face and that your hair’s so wavy you can’t tell it’s a straight cut,” she retorted.
“What’s wrong with cutting it that way?” he immediately defended, making the other men in the room chuckle. “It’s practical. Takes two minutes.”
She gawked at him. “I was joking. Jesus Christ, Devon. You don’t seriously cut your own hair?”
He blinked at her. “Why not? When it gets too long, it drives me insane.”
“Fuck. I swear, you guys need a goddamn keeper. Not one for the house either,” she finished before Devon could say it—his lips were pursed to do just that. With a huff, she told him, “Next time it needs cutting, come to me. I’ll sort it out.” She glared at her cast. “If it wasn’t for this, I’d do it now.”
Devon pouted. “I like it.”
She gawked at him, then a shifty look etched itself onto her face. “We’ll see.”
Kurt cleared his throat. “He doesn’t work well with threats.”
She cocked a brow. “Who said I was threatening him?”
Sean laughed. “I think you might have met your match, Devon. And I don’t mean with math either.”
“I think we’re getting off topic,” Sawyer inserted gruffly. “And you need to go to that meeting, Sean.”
“Shit.” He grunted. “I do. Are you guys going to be okay?” The question was aimed at everyone, but his gaze was on Sascha.
“I’m fine. I promise,” she assured him.
“Good. I’ll be on my cell if something crops up, okay?”
A round of nods was his response, and he got to his feet, grabbed his briefcase from under his desk, and shoved some papers in it from the organized chaos on its surface.
When he circled the desk one-eighty, Kurt expected his next action, but he could sense Sascha hadn’t. She froze, then melted into him when Sean bent over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Arching her throat a little, she whispered, “Aim lower.”
He gave her a quick grin, then did as bade. Their kiss was short, and unsatisfactory if both of the grunts they made when they parted were anything to go by.
Kurt felt the heat between them, and as was usually his way, responded to it. He was a watcher in all things. It was probably what made him love writing. But in this, he felt the visceral scorch of their arousal, and his body turbocharged it a thousand times more.
His cock stiffened, and he knew she felt it when she shifted her butt slightly—not away from his erection, but against it, almost like a whispered greeting.
Of course, that gentle, barely there touch was translated poorly by his cock; it hardened fully. Her lips twitched, but that was her only reaction as her gaze was still caught in the visual fucking going down between her and Sean.
Devon glowered up at him. “Jesus, Sean, fuck off. You’re crowding me.”
Sean snorted, blinked, and the heat was cast off. “God forbid I crowd you, Devon, eh?”
“Until later,” he told her, before shooting her a wink and stepping toward the doorway. He nodded at Sawyer then headed out into the big, wide world.
Devon was the first to speak when he’d gone. “If the usual suspects weren’t to blame, why would anyone target a gala celebrating an economist?”
“I don’t think we should talk about this when Sascha’s here. She’s still not feeling well.”
At his words, she shook her head—immediately regretted it if her grimace was anything to go by—but stated, “No, I’m okay, Kurt. I promise. It was just the shock. That’s all.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. Devon’s right. It’s not exactly an event worthy of much note, is it? Well, save from within that particular community, I mean.”
Sawyer stepped into the room and perched his ass on Sean’s desk. Gripping the edges with hard fingers, he retorted, “There were a lot of important people invited. Andrei was telling me about it the other night.”
“Like who?” Devon demanded.
“Politicians. Some very big entrepreneurs. You know Edward Jacobie?”
“The tech mogul?” Sascha drummed her fingers on her knee.
He nodded. “More than that. He’s the next Zuckerberg. Shits money twice a day.”
Her nose wrinkled. “Great image.”
“It worked though, huh?” he told her with a chuckle.
Kurt, aware the conversation was approaching devolution, slotted in quickly, “Why was he going to be there?”
“Andrei helped him with a new piece of software. He was going to be there to introduce Andrei.”
Sascha blinked. “Well, he’s probably the target then, right?”
Sawyer shrugged. “Maybe. Who knows with these fucking whackos. Let’s just be grateful the bomb went off too early.”
She shivered in his arms. “I’ll be glad when he gets home.”
“He won’t know anything about it until his driver tells him,” Kurt tried to reassure her. “So, don’t think he’ll be freaking out about this.”
“Like he would anyway,” Devon retorted with an amused chuckle.
Sascha scowled. “Why wouldn’t he be freaked out about a bomb going off at the gala he was supposed to be attending tonight? I know I’m freaked out.”
“Devon, now isn’t the time, dammit,” Kurt snapped, annoyed at his friend’s lack of care.
Hell, it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to Devon spilling his thoughts at the fucking drop of a hat but when it came to this? Seriously.
Even Sawyer looked pissed. He growled, “Devon, we should get back to work.”
“Wait a minute,” Sascha immediately argued. “I want to know what’s going on.”
Devon, sensing he’d fucked up for once, cleared his throat. “I think it’s best if you ask Andrei, Sascha.”
She narrowed her eyes as he climbed to his feet.
Though Devon was most definitely a skin and bone man, at times, he was pretty much the tin man. When he bent over to kiss Sascha, Kurt knew he was mimicking Sean’s gesture. Not out of a need to compete, but how AI mimicked real life.
Feeling rotten for comparing his best friend to a robot, Kurt sighed out his irritation with the man.
It wasn’t Devon’s fault his father had been a complete and utter bastard, was it? If a boy wasn’t shown love and affection as a child, how could he understand it as a man?
As Devon headed out the office, Sawyer also came over to kiss Sascha before he too departed. Leaving them both alone.
“Are you comfortable here?” he asked. “Or do you want to go to another room?”
His aim had been to change the topic, but she pinned him in place with a narrow look. “Explain.”
“Andrei’s seen things no one should have to see, Sascha.” He shrugged. “Devon’s right. He wouldn’t be afraid of what happened today. Take comfort in that.”
Her head tilted to the side as she studied him a second. With more gravitas than he’d have liked, one that told him she’d heard and understood the unintentional undertones to his words, Sascha asked, “What did he see?”
Kurt cleared his throat. “He should be the one to tell you.”
The instant he said it, he knew she’d have a problem with it. Not because she was nosy, but he’d concerned her.
She was concerned for Andrei.
His heart skipped a beat at that. All the other women in their life had been there for the sex. With the worry in her eyes, the pinched tightness around them, and the serious set to her mouth, he saw as well as felt her distress at what he wasn’t saying out loud.
“I want you to tell me,” she retorted, prodding him in the chest with her good hand. “Sean warned me about this,”
Sascha confessed.
“Said there were secrets that belonged to each of you, and that I wasn’t supposed to pry. That I was supposed to wait until you, as individuals, came to me and shared your secrets, but this is too important… I know you’re not telling me something.” A small sigh escaped her. “And that’s okay; or it would be if I didn’t feel like we were actually discussing something major. And I don’t mean an emotional boo boo.”
Ordinarily, he’d have told her to ask Andrei. To go to the source; no one had the right to make this revelation save for Andrei, and yet…
She was hurting for Kurt’s best friend.
And knowing how sensitive this topic was for Andrei, how could he not share something that would only drag up a past left buried?
As he worked through a way to soften a harsh truth, he knew there was little point in wasting too much time on this as it was impossible to gentle something so heinous.
With a deep sigh, he admitted the nasty reality.
“Andrei’s mother was killed in front of him.”
Ten
“Are you supposed to be down here?”
The statement, complete with Russian accent, had her jolting in place. Not only because she’d had her back to the staircase but because she’d been lost in her thoughts. Thoughts that centered around the man currently infiltrating her kitchen.
How was she supposed to act around him?
Like she didn’t know? Like everything was normal?
To him, it was. After all, he wasn’t to know Kurt had told her the truth about his family, and wasn’t that for the best? She knew Kurt had only told her because… Well, she wasn’t sure why. She got the feeling he’d been on the brink of telling her to go and speak with Andrei, but he’d stopped. Had studied her, then had revealed a nasty truth.
Had he sensed her concern? Her anxiety for this, the first man in their household who had touched her? Had he felt her panic when she’d read deeply into his words, sensing the undertones led to a grim reality?
She jolted when a gentle brush of her arm brought her attention back to the matter at hand. Looking up at him and sending him a quick smile she hoped didn’t convey her sudden unease, she mock-grumbled, “Not you too? I wouldn’t be in here if I wasn’t well enough.”
He snorted, seemingly amused. “Had a lot of that today, huh?” he asked. Before he headed toward the fridge, he bent down and kissed her softly on the temple. She smiled into the kiss, loving this new habit they were all adopting. “We can’t help but be concerned about you, Sascha. It was too close a call—” His jaw clenched as his words broke off.
She pressed her hand to her mouth and watched as he retrieved a beer from the fridge. He saw her gesture, tilted his head at the sight of it, then, his lips twitched.
That was the only indication he’d noticed.
“Are you okay?”
She shrugged. “I guess. It’s weird thinking we might be in a hospital or the morgue right now.”
“Cheerful thoughts,” Andrei teased after he took a deep sip of beer. When the alcohol hit home, he let out a deep sigh.
“I thought Russians only drank vodka.”
He rolled his eyes. “Want me to do the mazurka too?”
She smirked. “I’d probably pay to see that if I’m being honest.”
“Why do I believe that?” He laughed, then, growing sober, he murmured, “I’m sorry if what happened today frightened you.”
She watched him lean back against the counter, propping himself up with an elbow like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Maybe he didn’t, she pondered.
He’d watched his mother being murdered. Aged seven. Seven! Once a person had seen that, could anything else shock them?
Goddammit, seven!
She still couldn’t grasp it. Couldn’t comprehend how this wonderful man had seen such violence, such horror.
Kurt hadn’t told her much, just enough to quench the need she had for answers, but those answers hadn’t eased her worry. If anything, the revelation had made it a thousand times worse.
The need to touch him, to connect with him, overwhelmed her. She moved away from the counter where she’d been prepping for dinner and hobbled over to press her hand to his, then asked, “Aren’t you frightened?”
He diverted his gaze to the mouth of the bottle in his hand. “No.”
“Why not?” she asked, trying to urge the truth from his own lips rather than Kurt’s. Regret formed a hard knot in her chest. Why had she badgered Kurt for this particular secret? Why hadn’t she waited?
Her only defense was concern. Worry for Andrei, a desire to know him more, to understand him better.
“Because I’m a mathematician.”
“Does that make you the tinman?” she teased.
“Sometimes,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “In this, I just know we weren’t caught in the blast. I’m… pleased about that.”
“Pleased?” She bit back a smile. “You astonish me with your effusiveness.” Mad that he hadn’t divulged a damn thing, she switched on the mixer to drown out her thoughts and anything he had to say.
“What are you making?” he asked when she switched off the power.
“Cookies.”
“What kind?” he asked, moving away from the counter to approach the cookie dough with eager eyes.
She laughed as he scooped some of the mix out onto his finger. “It will be better baked. I promise.”
“I’m sure,” he teased. Then, pressing his clean hand to the small of her back, he asked, “How are you, really?”
Knowing he meant her injuries, not emotionally, she murmured, “I’m fine. Sawyer gave me a massage so I feel better.”
He snorted. “Devon informed me about the massage.”
“He did?”
“Yes,” he said with a snicker. “I had one call about the blast, and the next thing I read was his disgust at Sawyer’s having seduced you.”
“I seduced him,” she confessed lightly. “A girl doesn’t always have to take no for an answer.”
“True,” he conceded. “But, I thought you’d still be under the weather?”
“I am. We were careful.” She studied him a second. “Can I ask a question?”
“Of course.”
He answered freely but she sensed his wariness. “Did Katrin, Kurt’s ex, call you?”
His eyes widened, and she knew she’d surprised him. “You know about her?”
She jerked a shoulder. “Sure. Sean told me, and she called Kurt when he was sitting with me at the hospital. Did he talk to you about her?” When he nodded, emanating more wariness than before if that was even possible, she asked, “Did you speak with her?”
He rubbed his chin. “She’s on my to do list.”
“You haven’t called?”
“I don’t like her.”
“Why?”
“She treated Kurt like shit. I’m surprised he asked me to help her out if I’m being honest. She destroyed him. It took him a long time to come back to us.”
“In what way?”
He hesitated. “He drank. A lot. For quite a while. He’s got it under control, and while technically he wasn’t an ‘alcoholic’, he was certainly dependent.”
“You all drink around him,” she chastised.
“He drinks too. With no issue at all. That was then. This is now.”
“She sounded desperate. It surprised him.”
“He’s a better man than I. Did he tell you she cheated on him enough times even the divorce court judge was surprised? They had forty cases documented. God only knows how many went undocumented.”
Bug-eyed, she repeated, “Forty?”
He nodded. “See why I don’t want to help her?”
“A bit.” She nibbled at her bottom lip. “She did sound scared.”
“Why are you defending her?” he asked, sounding more curious than anything else. “I’d have thought you wouldn’t want us to have anything to do with her.”
&nbs
p; “I don’t. But closure is important.”
“This isn’t closure. She calls him every now and then. Gets him to do things.” He shot her a look she didn’t particularly understand—Andrei was hard to read sometimes. She thought she sensed self-deprecation, but that didn’t make much sense. “Regardless,” he continued, “you have zero reason to feel jealousy. I think he’d rather fuck that cookie dough than Katrin. Cold bitch. I don’t understand how she strong-armed forty poor bastards into fucking her. It’s a wonder their cocks didn’t drop off from the deep freeze.”
She snorted, raked her teeth over her lip to hide her amusement. “That’s not kind, Andrei.”
He shrugged. “Who said I was kind?” With a wink, he reached down and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I have some work to do. Call me when the cookies are ready?”
“I will,” she confirmed, watching as he walked off, beer still in hand.
Would she ever understand these men?
Their intelligence shouldn’t have made them seem otherworldly, but in many ways, they were. The way they dealt with things was unusual. It made living with them feel akin to dodging mines on a grassy lawn—outwardly pretty and neat, inwardly deadly and dangerous.
Not that she felt like she was in peril around them. God, no way. Nutjobs were everywhere, after all. What had happened today could have happened at any other time too.
She had no real right to feel shaken up about something that hadn’t happened to her, when a lot of people were currently being nursed in hospital. Well, the lucky ones. The unlucky…
She bit her lip as she spooned out dough onto a lined baking sheet.
Four days ago, she’d almost been killed in an accident.
They could have died tonight, but instead, they were both alive.
Sascha really hoped this kind of shit didn’t come in threes. Or if they did, then the third time wasn’t the charm.
* * *
“What’s going on, Sean?” Andrei made the demand with a growl as he headed through the door to his study.
Kurt shot him a glance, and saw that Devon and Sawyer were eying him warily as he flung his coat onto his vacated armchair. Sean merely pressed his fingers together in a contemplative pose. “There was a bomb.”
Hers To Keep: THE QUINTESSENCE COLLECTION I Page 17
