“Don’t want sorry. I want to know that you understand how you fucked up and tell me it won’t happen again.”
“It won’t. I swear.”
Rowe stared at him unblinking for several seconds before he finally grunted, accepting Sven’s promise. He turned and gathered some silverware out of a drawer. Pausing long enough to press a kiss to Noah’s bare shoulder, Rowe returned to the table, setting it for breakfast. When he was done, he dropped back into the chair opposite Sven.
“Now…what do we do next?”
“I would understand if you wanted to take me off Geoffrey’s case. I screwed up and it put him in danger.” Sven stopped and licked his lips, gathering up his courage to lay everything out for his boss. “But if you do take me off, I want to ask for some vacation time. I’m not leaving his side. You don’t have to pay me, but I’m not leaving him even if you assign another bodyguard to him.”
Green eyes studied him hard. “Can you do your job and still be involved with him?”
“Yes. Keeping him safe is all I want.”
The worry returned to Rowe’s gaze as he watched Sven. “Fine. I’ll leave you with Geoffrey, but you’ve got to promise me something.”
“Yes, anything.”
“You call me the instant you feel like you’re losing your perspective on the situation. I’ll send more help to back you, even if I have to reach out to people outside the company. I’ll pull strings, call in favors.”
“I won’t. I—”
“Not what I want to hear,” Rowe said sharply. “There’s a reason I won’t work jobs with Noah. I don’t want to be put in a position where I have to choose between what needs to be done and the person I love. Extra help in your corner will help protect you from that nightmare.”
A sharp pain shot through Sven’s heart at just the thought of having to choose between Geoffrey and possibly one of the men he worked with at Ward. Or worse…
“I promise,” Sven agreed with a nod.
“Good!” Rowe clapped him on the shoulder as he stood so he could spin his chair around to face the table. “Now let’s have some of Noah’s awesome pancakes while you tell us how the fuck Geoffrey finally wore you down.”
Noah crossed from the stove and set down a plate stacked with pancakes. He stopped and pressed a long, slow kiss to Rowe’s lips, leaving his boss moaning softly. “Love you too, babe,” Noah murmured and then returned to the pancake he still had cooking in the skillet.
With those words, all the worry and darkness that had cut lines across Rowe’s face disappeared. He’d met Rowe after the death of his wife, and his boss had been cold and grim. People talked about how he’d changed completely with the loss, but that had been the only Rowe he’d known.
Watching Rowe with Noah, he could only imagine that he was seeing Rowe as he truly was—light and carefree and incredibly loving.
And Sven had to wonder, if Geoffrey could find a way to love him like that, would he finally feel light and carefree too? He wanted that. God, he wanted that so much.Chapter 11“I didn’t tell the boss about you and Sven.”
Geoffrey’s head jerked up at Royce’s low-spoken words. Sven had been gone for barely more than two hours and he was feeling out of sorts. He’d worked out for a little while, taken a shower, and then sat down at his computer only to blankly stare at the screen. The code was just gibberish when his mind was consumed with Sven. He was worried he’d lose his job, or at the very least, Sven wouldn’t be allowed to be his bodyguard.
“What did you say?” Geoffrey asked, sitting up in his chair. Royce was standing in the open doorway, arms folded tightly over his chest, stretching the black T-shirt across muscular shoulders. He was sexy in a rough and grouchy sort of way, but even as Geoffrey thought it, he knew that the man didn’t hold a candle to Sven.
“I said that I didn’t tell Rowe about you and Sven. I figured that’s why you’ve been glaring at me.”
Geoffrey wanted to deny it, but he had been glaring at the bodyguard. It hadn’t occurred to him that Royce would tell Rowe about the kiss. Truthfully, the man didn’t seem the tattletale type. His issue was that there was a bodyguard in his house that wasn’t Sven.
And Royce lurked. Sven was a mountain of a man, but he at least felt protective and secure. Royce was like this heavy shadow that left him feeling cold.
Groaning, Geoffrey rubbed his hand over his face before shoving out of his chair. Maybe more coffee would help his brain function.
“There was nothing to tell. It was just a kiss,” he muttered as he stepped around Royce with his mug in hand.