18
Spence
Abigail didn’t call me last night. She didn’t come to my home. She didn’t pop up on my radar at all, so I spent the night working on my shot and preparing for work today – which is usually how I spend all of my nights. I don’t spend time with women, I don’t talk and laugh with them, I don’t go slow or pour coffee for them the next morning.
Shewas the anomaly… so why does my life now feel like the thing that’s different?
Abigail broke the fucking system, and it bothers me almost as much as wishing she was in my home for dinner.
I pull up in front of Nadia’s home around noon with the security system Laine bitched me out about. Often, we come on these jobs in pairs or groups, not for safety, but because we enjoy fucking around and laughing while we work. But Kane’s at home with his babies, and Jay is with Soph while they simultaneously work on their threat and Riley’s prosthetic leg replacement.
Cars sit in Nadia’s driveway. A little hatchback, and behind that, a slate gray truck with shiny wheels and shinier paintwork.
That sure as hell makes me lift a brow with curiosity.
I load my arms up with boxes of shit for the job, and kick the door closed. Then I head along the narrow footpath between beds of daisies and pretty flowers that make me think of Abigail.
I know Nadia is Abigail’s assistant. I know they have a fondness for color and pretty things. If I can’t see Abigail today, maybe I can see her assistant and pretend it’s almost the same thing.
Moving up the few steps at the front of the porch, I juggle my boxes, and open the wire screen door. Knocking, I step back again and wait.
Movement inside makes me grin. Someone – Nadia – rushes around the living room, trips over things, and cusses, making me wonder how much she has to pull her shit in while at work.Does Priss make everyone squeaky clean when she’s in the room?
Something heavy crashes to the floor, and then a male grunt fills in the blanks.
Nadia was having a midday fuck, and I’ve disturbed them.
I don’t give a single shit about business professional or manners, so where a real estate agent or door-to-door salesman might walk away, or at the very least, paste on a fake smile that implies he knows nothing, I leer like a total prick, and when the door cracks open, my chest bounces from muted laughter when Nadia steps out with a mis-buttoned top.
“You got a big ol’ hicky right there on your neck, miss.”
Her eyes widen, and her hand swings up to cover the nonexistent mark.
“It’s company policy that I apologize for interrupting, but it would be a lie, and I’m not about that life.”
“I forgot you were coming today.” Her face flames. “I’m so sorry.”
“I can assure you, I didn’t come today. But I am here to install your security. Wanna let me in?”
“Umm…” She pulls the heavy door closer to bar my way, but then a familiar face steps up behind her and confirms what I already knew.
I knew his truck from my searches.
Messy hair, legitimate bite marks on his neck, and no shirt at all, he growls, “Serrano.”
I grin. “Mitchell-fucking-Rosa. Well, hump my leg and call me Dolly. This is an interesting turn of events. Does Abigail know you’re fucking her assistant?”
* * *
“You needto keep this shit to yourself.”
I pretend like my world hasn’t shifted since I arrived here and found those Portuguese eyes glaring at me. I don’t know how this affects me, I don’t know why, but I know something big has changed, and I don’t have a clue how I feel about it.
And because of my uncertainty, I’m annoyed.
Mitchell follows me every step I take through Nadia’s country-style home. I work on the placement of cameras, the wiring, making sure her home is tight and secure. And all the while, I think of Abigail and whether this will hurt her.
I don’tthinkit will, but Mitch and Nadia are hiding for a reason. I have to figure out the reason before I can do anything else.