He was so, so fucked.
He accepted the pad of paper and pen from Jaime, who said he was going upstairs to shower and clean up. Finn nodded, now completely unable to speak without revealing his fangs thanks to thoughts of Jaime in the shower, wet and slick with soap, and only a few flimsy wooden doors between them.
After several deep, calming breaths, he scrawled out enough food to feed them both for a week or so, and left the list on the counter. And if he picked the recipes he was best at to impress Jaime—the ones Andi had taught him herself—well, that was his business.
His phone rang with a call from Sheppard. He could still hear Jaime padding around his bedroom upstairs and hadn’t heard the shower start yet, so he took the phone call outside to the back of the property. He needed to look around anyway before submitting the security report.
Gently closing the glass french door behind him so he didn’t startle Jaime upstairs, he answered. “Hey Sheppard, what’s up?”
The cool spring air lifted Jaime’s scent and cooled his arousal enough that he could think clearly again.
“Did the media clear off alright?”
Finn’s mouth tipped up in a half smile—Sheppard had never believed in smalltalk. “Yeah, Monroe PD came out and set up the barricades and shooed them away. A few of the deputies were Salt Creek; they gave me some funny looks, but nothing overly threatening. Silas was inside with the client, not sure if they were able to scent him to report back to the alpha.”
Sheppard grunted in acknowledgement. “And the client, how is he? Have you met the brother yet?”
Finn’s chest tightened. What Jaime had said about his brother thinking of him as a burden just didn’t track with the way Sam Lamont had spoken on the phone this morning, or with the way Jaime had talked about their relationship last year. To Finn, he’d sounded like a devoted brother willing to do anything and pay any amount of money to keep Jaime safe. But it was odd that he hadn’t come out to see how Jaime was after the media storm this morning, or to meet any of the security team.
“Jaime seems tense and exhausted, but he’s agreed to the tech install and is fine with one of us staying here full time. I’ll let you know if that changes. We met Sam Lamont over the phone—he seems to keep to himself for the most part.” He wasn’t keen on airing Jaime’s messy relationship with his brother, but he had to say something.
“Hmm, well. He sure keeps himself informed over the phone. He told me he expects daily update calls every morning until the trial is over. Maybe he just doesn’t leave his house. Some people are like that.”
Finn gave a non-committal hum. That’s not what Jaime made it sound like, but he wasn’t privy to those details and it wasn’t his place to speculate. “Yeah, I’m not sure what’s going on there.”
“Alright, well, keep me informed and keep your head on a swivel. We can’t underestimate Salt Creek if their claws are as deep in this as it seems.”
“Will do, boss.”
Hanging up, he saw that he had a couple of new texts from Silas.
Dropping off the truck in a bit, Sheppard will follow me there to give me a ride home.
I haven’t told him that you know the client, but you should. You know he’ll figure it out anyway.
After their whirlwind of a day, Finn would cross that bridge if they came to it. He was also allowing himself to accept that the reason he wasn’t telling Sheppard was because he was afraid he’d try and take him off the assignment—which Finn wouldn’t abide.
With a sigh, he pocketed his phone and went to walk the small property and adjacent shoreline. The wooden fence flanking the house offered privacy from the road, but the back was open to the lake.
Not wanting to stray out of hearing range from the house, he only spent a few minutes scanning the surrounding tree line and thick brush that went right up to the rocky shore on either side of the property, almost cradling the private beach. Judging that approaching from either direction would be slow and potentially noisy, he headed back inside.
On the way, he noticed the small shed at the edge of the yard, but when he tried the handle he found it locked. Peering through the glass, he recognized the setup immediately.
This was Jaime’s painting studio.
Through the dusty window, the space looked hastily packed up, with canvases stacked haphazardly against the back wall and paint brushes sitting stiff and crusty in dried out jars.
“Don’t go in there.” Finn whipped his head up to see Jaime striding toward him, the back door flung open.
He quickly stepped away from the window, dropping his hands. “I’m sorry. I was just scouting out the property for the tech report and wondered if this was a space you’d want to put cameras in.”
Jaime’s face remained tight. “No, cameras won’t be necessary there. I don’t go in there anymore.”
Silence stretched, with only the sound of small waves lapping at the rocky beach and calling shorebirds between them. Finn nodded. “I’ll leave it out for now. If you change your mind and would like it to be outfitted, just let me know.”
Jaime gave a terse nod, and went back inside.
The afternoon flew by.Finn worked quietly in the kitchen dining nook to submit the security report, and scheduled the tech installation for tomorrow. They usually had the necessary equipment on hand for an install of this size.
