“Whatever.”
“What the hell does that mean?” He stopped halfway across the living room and spun around.
Royce stepped close, towering over him. “It means don’t fuck with him. Sven’s a good guy. Don’t fucking use him for a good time and then toss him aside. He deserves better than that.” Royce continued to the kitchen where he poured himself a cup of coffee while Geoffrey stood there with his mouth hanging open.
“Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care. Just don’t fuck with him.”
Geoffrey opened his mouth to shout at the bodyguard to get the fuck out of his house when the doorbell rang. Snarling, he started for the door, but Royce was moving ahead of him.
“Stay,” he barked, his right hand on the butt of his gun stashed in the small of his back.
Geoffrey flipped him off, even though Royce couldn’t see it, and walked into the kitchen to fix himself some coffee. Or water. Fuck.…Was 10:45 a.m. too early to start drinking?
But all thoughts of a drink and Royce were forgotten when the low rumble of Sven’s rich baritone voice echoed down the hall. Geoffrey’s heart kicked into overdrive and he raced from the kitchen in time to see Royce turn down the hall to the guest room where Sven had been sleeping.
“Hey,” Sven said as Geoffrey skidded to a halt.
“What are you doing back here so soon? Did Rowe take you off my case? What happened?”
“No, Rowe didn’t take me off your case,” Sven said. He ran his hands down his hips as if he were searching for something to do with them and finally settled on shoving them into his pockets. He was wearing the same pair of jeans and black T-shirt he’d left in. His long hair was pulled back into a braid, but shorter strands around his face were loose and windblown as if he’d driven with all the windows down.
“So?” Geoffrey prodded when Sven clammed up again.
“I…” he drifted off and then stiffened when Royce returned, his overnight bag slung over one shoulder.
“Shout if you need me. Garrett’s not on a new case either.”
Sven grunted, slapping Royce on the shoulder as he passed. The other bodyguard gave Geoffrey one last warning look before he stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He was definitely ready to have Royce out of his house and Sven back, but…
“I don’t understand. I thought today was your day off. Is Rowe punishing you?”
“What?” Sven stepped backward, his thick eyebrows meeting over his nose. “No. I just thought…you were uncomfortable with another bodyguard in your house so it was better if I came back.”
“Yeah, but what about your sister?”
“Called her on the drive over.”
“And…and your errands?”
Sven shrugged, looking a little more unsure. “I just needed to run a load of laundry. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind…” His voice trailed off and he just smiled at Geoffrey.
He couldn’t describe it, but Geoffrey was sure that nothing sounded more appealing, more like domestic bliss, than the idea of doing laundry with Sven. He’d never done anything domestic with a guy he’d been interested in. Never gone to the grocery, done the laundry, or even stood in a store debating the merits of different skillets. His whole life, all those things had felt like a soul-sucking chore, but standing there in hall with the sun just starting to peek through the heavy bank of clouds, he realized that all those little mundane things would feel less draining with someone else. And he really wanted to try them out with Sven.
“Yeah,” Geoffrey paused and cleared his throat, trying to get his voice back to sounding more nonchalant. “Yeah, no big deal.”
“Thanks.”
Geoffrey backpedaled, leading the way back into the kitchen, unsure of how to proceed next. A part of him wanted to jump on Sven and kiss him until they were both panting and desperate. But kissing had gotten Sven into trouble in the first place with his boss.
Royce’s words were also ringing in his head. He wasn’t fucking around with Sven. Maybe when the bodyguard had first captured his attention a year ago, it had been a sexual fascination, but spending time with Sven, watching him with other people, it became more than just wanting to have sex. He wanted to get to know the man behind all the muscles and the timid smile.
“Did you have breakfast already?” Geoffrey said, stopping by the fridge. He’d made himself a bowl of cereal, but he was more than happy to cook for Sven.
“Rowe’s boyfriend, Noah, made pancakes. They invited me to stay.”
Geoffrey’s shoulders slumped and he turned back to Sven. He tapped his fingers on the island’s marble, trying to think of something that he could do for Sven, something they could do together…at least for a little while.
“You don’t have to do anything for me. You can work or whatever. I’ll be here for you.”