RJ rushes to Clara first, and she practically glues herself to him, his demeanor softening as he wraps her in his arms.
Jansen dances around her, not good at waiting. “Where are your coats?” he asks me, his fingers wrapped around one of her curls.
“We checked them. Why?”
Walker taps on the shoulder bag he’s carrying. “Delivery. Try not to bend them.” RJ makes eye contact with Walker, just for a moment, and Walker adds to his instructions. “And look for something identifiable to smuggle out for us to plant at step two. Do you have the claim tickets?”
I hand them over. “Got it. How will I get the tickets back?”
Jansen punches me on the arm. “I’m offended.”
“My dad still wants you either in jail or dead. You shouldn’t do drops while he’s standing next to me.”
Jansen spins, arms out, his black duster sweeping behind him like a cape. “Look at me—I’m a whole new man. And just as stealthy as ever.”
I’m ready to tell him how stupid he’s being, but Clara steps away from RJ, going to our resident thief. I expect her to yank his braid and tell him he’s a bad boy, but there’s no braid to pull anymore. Instead, she tugs his shirt until her lips are beside his ear, whatever she’s whispering obviously just for him.
And the guy looks like he’s been electrocuted by the time she’s done with him. He steals his kiss, lingering like she’s oxygen. Walker gives up waiting for them to finish, and tugs her into his arms, claiming her lips in a way they probably shouldn’t in public.
It doesn’t bother me the way it used to. Instead, it feels like foreplay, watching the way each of them interacts, the different facets of Clara they each bring out, and the sides of themselves they only show to her, all of it unbearably revealing. And uncomfortably erotic. I shift my weight, trying to relieve the sudden pressure against my zipper.
Never thought I’d be into this shit. I’ve never been happier to be wrong.
Damn it. Instead of giving in to temptation, I pass on what little information I have. “I haven’t found where my father keeps the blackmail, but thanks to Falk, I knowwhenhe goes to stash it.”
RJ looks away from Walker and Clara, his eyes dark. So, I’m not the only one into this shit. But at least the two of us can focus when we need to.
“It’s a blank in his schedule within a few days of something going down,” I explain.
Clara spins in Walker’s arms, as this is the first she’s heard of it. Jansen scoots closer, taking her hand and kissing her fingertips, distracting her when we all should focus. We don’t have much time. “He goes for a drive to ‘clear his mind,’ totally alone.”
RJ nods, finally giving in to the temptress between us and grabbing Clara’s other hand in both of his. “We can work with that.”
“But first, there needs to be something worth collecting blackmail on,” Clara says, her wheels spinning. I don’t like the look on her face.
“No, you’re not taking any more risks,” I warn.
She idly presses a kiss first to RJ’s palm, then Jansen’s, a few people in concert attire passing us. She relaxes farther into Walker’s hold, her face screwed up in frustration. “If you’re sure about that, then it’ll have to be you.”
“What are you thinking?”
“How badly would you have to hurt your brother for it to be worth blackmail?”
The grin that stretches across my face is likely crazed. “It’d have to be pretty bad.”
“He wants to make a move on me. What if I let him, and you came in and ‘rescued’ me? Would that be enough?”
“Depends on what you’re showing in the footage, too. He wants more onyouto control me.”
“So, I get to rescue myself?” She looks thrilled.
“No. There’s too much that could go wrong. But maybe after I save you, you can take out your anger on him. That might be enough.”
Jansen hops into the conversation. “You’ll just have to make it really big. Flashy. Incriminating.”
RJ folds the palm she just kissed closed, his eyes only for her. “You could break a bone of his, Sugar. You’ve got the skills, especially if Trips is there to keep it from being a fair fight. I have full access to the elder’s schedule now, so we can be in position to follow him.”
“Then that’s the plan,” she says, like it’s settled. “It’ll have to be this weekend. Trevor’s going to Olivia’s for Thanksgiving.”
