My phone vibrates in my hand, not even making noise—or giving me time to prepare—since the text app is already open. Mariah has already responded, and what she says soothes a little of my aggravation.
He probably wouldn’t dig a moat to keep me safe either. From the looks of his yard, he’s pretty serious about his landscaping.
I see an alert telling me Walker replied, but I ignore it. I don’t give a shit what he has to say. Instead, I tap out another message to Mariah.
He definitely wouldn’t dig a moat, or install a spike circle. And now you have my number, so you can text me if you need anything.
I don’t like that she had to rely on Walker. That he gave her something I hadn’t.
Unfortunately, there are plenty of things I can’t give her. I can’t open a jar if the lid is too tight. I can’t reach things on high shelves so she doesn’t have to climb onto a stool. I can’t sit with her while she watches a movie in my great room.
Can’t? Or won’t?
I’m not sure where the little voice in the back of my mind comes from, but its input is not appreciated.
When Mariah texts back, I’m waiting, staring at our text string as it pops up.
I guess the same goes for you. Want anything special for breakfast tomorrow?
To have it with you.
Again, the little voice rears its ugly head, proving it’s an asshole of epic proportions.
Ican’thave breakfast with Mariah.Can’topen her jars or reach the high shelves. I sure as hellcan’tsnuggle with her on the couch in the evenings.
Can’t. Ican’tdo it. Especially if my suspicions about her condition are true. I won’t survive it. The fear of what can happen in the blink of an eye would eat me alive.
That’s why I quickly tap out one final response before shutting down my phone so I can try to figure out how to undo the damage I’ve clearly already done.
Surprise me.
It should be easy, because so far that’s all she’s been doing.
“Glad you finally decided to join us.” Trevor angles a brow at me through the screen of my computer. “You look like shit.”
I glare at my next youngest brother. “Fuck you. Not all of us want to wear suits every day.”
Walker is the oldest of us. And while he’s the one who started McKinley security systems, Trevor is the one responsible for growing it into what it is. He’s a brilliant businessman and has busted his ass to make us the most sought after security supplier in the country.
Not that I would tell him that to his face.
“Don’t give him shit.” Walker grins at me. “I think that pretty new chef of his is dishing up more than he can handle as it is.”
It takes an extreme amount of effort not to clench my jaw at Walker calling Mariah pretty. Not just because he shouldn’t be fucking noticing Mariah, but because pretty doesn’t seem accurate. I’ve only seen her in the flesh once, but that was enough for me to be able to say without a shadow of a doubt that she’s beyond stunning. Add in her work ethic and somewhat snarky attitude, and even stunning doesn’t seem enough.
“Yeah. I heard about her.” Tucker, waggles his brows at me. “Tell her I’m ready for my cake whenever she gets time.”
“She’s done making cakes for you fuckers.”
Just thinking about Mariah meeting Tucker has me on edge.My youngest brother is everything I’m not. He’s charming. Handsome. Friendly and social.
He’s also an incessant womanizer, and I don’t want to have to kill a member of my own family.
“That’s not really fair, now is it? Tobias crosses both arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair. “How come Walker gets a cake, and we don’t?” His lips curl into a slow smirk. “Is it because you want to keep Mariah’s cake all to yourself?”
I know where this conversation is headed, and it doesn’t have shit to do with cake.
“I thought we were here to work.” I reach up, ready to close my computer and end the call. “But if we're not, I have other shit to do.”
