Clover blinked at the sudden question. “Public transportation.” He looked confused.
That didn’t slow Saint. “Then he obviously doesn’t have your car tagged. Do you have any trackers on you—like to find your keys, wallet, or phone?”
For a moment, Clover looked thoughtful before reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out keys. An AirTag inside a keychain hung from the keyring. “I have this.”
Saint motioned for the keyring. Clover removed it from his keys and passed it over. He removed the keychain, popped out AirTag and removed the battery. Even though Clover never questioned him, Saint explained as he went. “This is likely how he keeps finding you. If he’s ever had access to your phone, he could’ve easily unpaired this from your device and paired it with his. It literally takes seconds and then he can track your every move with you being none the wiser.”
“I never thought about that. It’s more than just likely. I lost my keys whenever we lived together. In my heart, I know he hidthem from me. Then, suddenly, he appeared with them and that keychain so I wouldn’t lose them again. I forgot all about that.”
“Was he abusive?” Saint asked the question while putting the AirTag back together sans battery. He didn’t want Clover feeling judged.
“Yes.” Clover answered so quietly, Saint almost didn’t hear him. His rage continued to build, but he refused to let Clover see it. He had obviously been through enough. Saint veered slightly off topic to give Clover time to recover from the confession.
He passed the battery-less keychain back to Clover. “The man I told you about who saved me from the streets, his name is Steel. He owns the Steel Security brand. We have offices all over the U.S. where we have the heaviest business. To celebrate the holidays every year, he pays for all of us to travel to L.A. for a huge party on Christmas Eve. We usually get gifts and bonuses. It’s a lot of fun. Since you’re an employee now, that includes you.” Saint took a breath. “If you’re willing, I think you should stay with me until then and we can head to L.A. together.” He took another deep breath, but Saint had to be honest. “I think you’re in genuine danger. People don’t keep stalking their exes for this long, normally. Combine that with him being abusive, tracking you, and the way I saw him look at you, I don’t think you’re safe alone. It’s more than likely he’ll strike sooner rather than later. We should be in control of that. If he thinks you’re moving in with me, that’ll likely be the straw that breaks him. I know what I’m suggesting is—”
“No,” Clover said, cutting him off. “You’re right. I can’t keep living like this. It’s really breaking me down.”
It was a little scary how much hope filled Saint. He needed to keep things professional. “Does that mean you’ll stay with me?”
Clover nodded. “If you’re okay with me crashing on your couch or whatever, then I’m in.”
Saint was helpless against his smile. “I get the feeling you like everyone you meet.”
Clover blushed. “Not everyone.”
“You’re trusting me like you like me and have known me your whole life. You immediately took to Maya without realizing how famous she is. Not to mention, you were obviously concerned about our waitress’ feelings.”
“I’m just observant.” The way Clover mumbled the words said a lot about how nervous he was.
Saint held his stare so Clover would see how serious he was. “I think you’re great, kitten.”
The small smile that met his words had Saint’s heart trying to flip in his chest. He had a terrible feeling he was in big trouble, and he’d just invited that trouble home with him. Saint wasn’t sure he was strong enough for this. He had to be. Clover was his employee. Ethics and all that. As he looked on, he watched Clover try to put the keychain back on his keys with his tongue held between his teeth. Jesus. He was fucked.
Chapter Three
Ithadtakenforeverat Clover’s house for him to pack everything he needed for at least two weeks. Saint hadn’t thought about how much stuff it took to make Clover so pretty. Apparently, it was a lot. Thankfully, they had gotten his things packed and in the back of Saint’s SUV. Saint had gotten Clover settled into the spare bedroom and then left him to his shower. As much as Saint wanted to put his brain on lockdown, it wouldn’t happen. Damn, Clover was brave and steady as hell. It was also possible he might be an idiot. Saint knew Clover could trust him. Hell, he had started at the bottom, doing guard duty at parties and whatnot before moving to watching over celebrities. Now he ran an entire branch of Steel Security. So, again, Saint knew he was safe, but Clover didn’t. Yet he had come home with him, nonetheless. In his defense, though, Saint had seen his face when he spotted Jacobe. Maybe he was at a place in his life where he had found his breaking point. Anything at all felt safer than being alone. For fuck’s sake, that motherfucker had beenhired to be Clover’s boss. Saint had dealt with some crazies in his line of work. One thing he knew was how to spot the ones who would kill someone before they let them go. Therefore, if staying with Saint was because he was brave or foolish, he was still safer here.
“Something smells delicious.”
Saint turned away from the stove at Clover’s statement. He barely stopped himself from blurting out how incredibly beautiful Clover was. Seriously, just drop-dead gorgeous. With his face free of makeup and wearing nothing more than a t-shirt and pajama shorts, he was flawless. His legs had Saint ready to worship them. Instead, he was forced to hold Clover’s stare and pretend they were at work. This was only a business relationship.
“Thanks. It’s chicken parmesan. Would you like to taste the sauce? I have a habit of putting in too much oregano. If you don’t like it, I have more tomatoes. I can start over.”
A gorgeous smile lit Clover’s face. “Sure, but I love oregano. I’m sure it’s fine.”
Saint scooped some sauce from the pot with a wooden spoon and held it out for Clover to try. Clover claimed he loved oregano, but there was loving and there was LOVING, which was where Saint fell. It was possible he scorched away some of his tastebuds at some point.
Clover’s eyes fell closed in pleasure. “Mhmm. That’s exactly how I like it.”
Saint couldn’t look away from Clover, openly enjoying the sauce. Goddamn. Saint couldn’t breathe. He had to clear his throat to speak. “Thank you. I’m usually too much for people.” He let the statement hang in the air, hoping Clover understood he meant in every aspect of his life.
Clover grabbed a nearby stool and sat next to the oven. “I think you’re perfect.” His words were so nonchalant, Saint couldn’t get a read on him. Saint didn’t even know why he tried. This was strictly a professional relationship. Surely, if he kept telling himself that, he could make it real. Except Saint knew the truth. He could tell himself that all day, but in the end, Saint couldn’t pretend he would have done this for any newbie hire. He was incapable of letting Clover out of his sight.
Clover straightened his spine and clasped his hands. “Now. I have a serious question.”
“Shoot.”
Clover didn’t hesitate. “Do you hate Christmas?”
