“—which is that Wes is down bad for this girl,” Mac finishes, making Dimitri scowl at him like he’s been tricked into agreeing to something he never would have. “You got cameras in her house?”
“You know I do—you were on the phone with me while I was placing them. What of it?”
He stretches out, putting both hands behind his head in a deceptively casual posture. “Nothing. It’s just funny, is all.”
I shake my head. Dare I ask? He’ll tell me either way.
“I mean, everyone was giving me such shit for being all obsessed with Eleanor, but that’s one line evenIdidn’t cross,” he grins. “How’re you gonna explain that one to her?”
“I put them in when she was a job,” I argue.
“And you left them in because…” he prompts.
Fuck. I roll my eyes at him. I could argue that I only just found out, but I did have time to take them down before I left. The thought never even crossed mymind. Even now, my body tightens, rebelling against the idea of losing my eyes on her.
“Because she’s in danger. Someone wants her dead—”
“Ah yes, thesomeone wants her deadexcuse. A perfectly reasonable reason to do some creepy-ass stalker shit. We know it well.” Mac turns to Dimitri who—un-fucking-believably—nods his agreement. “Of course you gotta watch her. What if someone attacks? Has nothing to do with the fact that she looks like that.” He holds up his phone proudly, having navigated to the shared files while we were talking.
I tear my eyes away from the picture on his screen, barely holding back a displeased grumble. I don’t like seeing her on his phone—I need to delete her photo from that file.
“And of course you must take her somewhere safe where you can be alone and have her to yourself,” Dimitri adds, rolling with the vibe with an odd twinkle in his eye. It’s not a smile, but his amusement is clear.
I cross my own arms, fighting a smirk. “I’m the only goddamn professional among us. If I were taking a page from your book, I’d have just brought her here without asking or telling anyone in advance,” I nod at Mac, who grins back unapologetically, “or acted like I had the situation sorted and turned up here with her in the boot of my car,” I finish, raising a brow at Dimitri.
“Hey, don’t knock it, Short Round. You haven’t told her anything yet, and you admitted you don’t know how she’ll react—you might need to keep your options open. Plus, I hear a ride in the trunk of a car really riles ‘em up,” Mac adds, getting in a jab at both of us.
Instead of rising to the bait, Dimitri actually smirks. “Some call it foreplay. But perhaps it is more Wesley’s style to take all her clothes and make her crawl up the stairs.”
Mac inhales so sharply he starts choking, coughing on nothing more than air and saliva. He sits forward, thumping his chest. “You heard that?” he asks, voice strangled.
“The entrance to this house is made of stone and glass, and you believed your voice would not carry?” Dimitri asks, liftinga brow.
“You never said anything before…” Mac sucks in a breath through his teeth and grimaces. “Maybe don’t tell Eleanor.”
Dimitri scoffs. “I would never disrespect her like that. The blame is yours for taking something that should be private and turning it into a game on the staircase in the middle of the house.”
All contrition gone, Mac tucks his hands back behind his head again with a low chuckle. “Good times.”
Dimitri rolls his eyes. “Since we seem to be finished with this for now and Wesley has his plan, I am leaving. Unless there is some way for James and I to contribute?”
“No one needs stabbing or shooting just now, but I’ll let you know the moment that changes,” I say, a snarky promise. “And Madison and I should be able to handle reviewing her list on our own, but I expect we’ll need you two when we start narrowing down suspects.”
Mac throws Dimitri a look over his shoulder. “Hear that? We’re off the hook for computery stuff. I like this chick already.”
Dimitri makes a thoughtful noise. “Then I recommend you send the General our bid for her job and get some sleep in your own bed. You look very tired.”
“Thanks for that.” I roll my eyes as he grabs the handles of his scooter and maneuvers it to leave—he’s really gotten the hang of that thing.
Mac stands, slapping his thighs with both hands. “Well, I can’t wait to meet her,” he says, all traces of mockery gone from his smile now. “Anyone who can get you worked up like that? Must be pretty extraordinary.”
“I think there was a compliment in there,” I observe, raising a brow.
“For her, not you,” Mac assures me, matching my dry tone.
He’s nearly at the door when I realize I need him to know—need to speak the words out loud instead of keeping it bottled up with everything else. “Mac?”
He pauses.
