“It won’t mean anything to him but it covers our corporate ass. Is he in any immediate danger?”
Kai lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “He deals in oil and arms in third-world countries. There’s always a risk.”
He’d done his part, Kai told himself, again. He’d provided the best in close-protection training he could in the limited time he had. Personally, Kai thought that the sheik should hire professional PPOs—preferably Caswallawn’s personal protection officers—but the stubborn, suspicious sheik was adamant he wanted his own people acting as his bodyguards. Kai had argued that he wasn’t fully convinced about their ability to protect him, but Sheikh Aban Armanjani’s decision was non-negotiable.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have taken the job,” Kai said, voicing his niggling worry.
“He paid us the same amount to train his four guys as we would earn from two full training courses with twenty cadets each. It was a no-brainer,” Sawyer said.
He knew that, just as he knew that there was nothing more he could do. Kai resolved to let it go. Or he'd try to.
“Business is good,” Kai commented as they thundered through Mitchell’s Park, pushing aside his worry about the sheik’s safety. “We picked up the JackSon Corporation account in Iraq and that’s twenty more PPOs we need to employ.”
“Already on it,” Sawyer told him.
Of course he was, Kai thought. Sawyer could juggle a hundred balls in the air and not let any of them fall.
“Have you made a decision about staying in Mercy yet?”
“No.” Kai lifted up his hand when he saw Sawyer was about to object. “I’m not going to make an impulsive choice. They gave us three months to make a decision about buying the property and I’m not going to be rushed.”
“The guys don’t want to leave Mercy.” Translation:I don’t want to leave Mercy.
Kai kept his voice even. “That will be a factor I will take into consideration.”
Kai heard Sawyer’s frustrated sigh and wished he could just make the damn decision. He knew what he should do, knew the answer, but he just couldn’t spit it out, not yet. They were partners, sure, but it was also his dream, his business, his money, his risk. He could take all the damn time he needed.
“I just don’t understand why you’re hesitating.” Sawyer pushed a frustrated hand through his blond hair.
Because I might come to like it? Because I might want to settle down? Grow some roots? Because doing all of the above scares the shit out of me?Sawyer might be his best friend, but he wasn’t about to share that with him. Kai wouldn’t share that with anyone. Some things—most things—he simply had to work out for himself.
“Drop it, Lawson,” Kai ordered and ignored Sawyer’s stubborn face.
After running another klick in silence, Kai instinctively turned left at the end of the road to head back to the Caswallawn building and his own house, which was two blocks away. He frowned when Sawyer turned right. Kai put on brakes, slapped his hands on his hips, and yelled at his friend’s retreating back. “Where the hell are you going?”
“I want to drop in on the bakery. Coffee, cake,” Sawyer shouted back.
Why?Kai rolled his eyes. The bakery had dreadful coffee and the baked goods were uninspiring. There had to be a girl involved, he decided. Sawyer had never met a woman he couldn’t charm into bed. While Kai was curious to see who'd caught his eye this time, there was work on his desk waiting for his attention, decisions that needed to be made. He should head back, hit the shower, and then his office. He had a pile of paperwork to get through and he was grateful for it; keeping busy would make his time in Mercy go faster. Because, God, he really couldn’t wait to leave.
What the hell is wrong with you this morning, Manning? Get a fucking grip. You sound like a whiny wimp.
Irritated with himself, Kai rapidly caught up with Sawyer and they slowed their pace to a slow jog and then to a walk as they approached the bakery. Kai lifted his dark eyebrows in surprise. The place had undergone a major transformation since his last visit to Mercy three—no, four—months before. Instead of the dingy gray he remembered, it was now painted a sunny yellow and had a couple of black wrought-iron tables and chairs, all of which were occupied, on the pavement. The fire-red door was flanked by two lime-green pots with acid-pink flowers—flowers that he wouldn’t be able to name with a gun to his head—spilling over the side. It looked bright and welcoming and, best of all, he could smell warm bread and good coffee.
They’d also renamed the place, and he squinted at the colorful sign above the door. Artsy Tartsy. More cute in a town that really didn’t need it.
“What happened to this place?” he asked.
“The Sturgiss cousins, Pippa and Flick, inherited it from their grandmother. They started renovating it a couple of days after you left for Saudi. It’s been revamped, inside and out.” Sawyer said.
“’Bout time.” If the wares inside were now as good as the place looked and the coffee smelled, he’d be ending all of his runs in this place. “Are either of the cousins the girl you have your eye on?”
Sawyer shuddered. “Hell, no. I’ve known those two brats all my life. I just wanted coffee. Scouts’ honor.”
“You were never a Scout.”
Sawyer ignored him, so Kai followed his friend into the busy bakery and instinctively moved to one side, turning so that his back wasn’t to the door. Because he was a paranoid SOB, he did a quick scan of all the customers, dismissed them all as non-threats, and then looked down to the display cases and sucked in his breath.
There was a God. In the various levels of hell he’d endured he’d frequently doubted the presence of an omnipotent being, but right now, staring at the assortment of pastries, Danishes, and cupcakes that he just knew would melt in his mouth, he believed.