It smells freshly laundered, but somehow his masculine scent clings to the fabric. I close my eyes and hear Phoenix Hale's voice.
Since you’re already our girl…
And as I fall asleep, an errant thought shoots through my hazy mind.
I kinda wish he'd saidmy girl.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Tampon darts and Vagisil wipes
Phoenix
I stand beside Tank in the center of Sanders Sporting Goods, a locally owned but very large establishment that serves as the end store for one of the malls in Houston. The place is fucking packed, and practically every customer is here to see Jordie.
As stated in the contract, Mr. Sanders has provided two security guards, and in addition to my big friend, they’re keeping the crowd pretty much under control.
I glance at the table where Jordie is busy signing balls, jerseys, and other merchandise. Her new sneaker was released this week, and the store has already sold out of them, despite the event only starting fifteen minutes ago.
Tank inches closer to Jordie when she steps around the table to take a photo with a particularly loud guy in front of the logo backdrop the store set up. While Tank is generally a gentle teddy bear of a man, he’s got his game face on today, eyes sharp and mouth unsmiling.
When the rowdy man squeezes a little too close to Jordie and tries to hug her, I step forward, my hackles rising. But before I can react, Tank is right by her side, saying something to the guy in a low voice. The asshole turns, a look of belligerence on his face until he sees the hulking bodyguard wearing a tight black tee and a scowl. His eyes dropto Tank’s Jupiter-sized biceps, which are straining the sleeves of his shirt, and he quickly scurries off with his signed football.
When Tank returns to my side, I ask, “Do you have to get your shirts specially made with industrial-strength threads to keep the seams from busting?”
He doesn’t look at me, but his lips twitch just a bit. “The thread is made from the intestines of people who piss me off.”
“Gotcha. I’ll do my best to stay on your good side then. In fact, can I bring you anything? Perhaps a side of beef to snack on while you glare at small children?”
This time there’s no mistaking the quirk of his lips. “I’m not glaring at the children, just the adult men who think it’s okay to touch a woman without her permission.”
“What about that kid?” I ask, nodding toward a little girl about Reece’s age with blonde pigtails. She just got to the front of the line and is hopping up and down in excitement. “She looks pretty suspicious.”
“Want me to take her down?” Tank jokes. At least I think he’s joking. His face is the picture of impassivity, his blue eyes sharp and flinty.
The little girl jumps, and Jordie catches her, both of them laughing. I elbow the big guard. “Go get her, tiger. She looks scrappy, but I think you could take her.”
He uncrosses his arms and holds a fist to his mouth, covering a snicker with a fake cough. “Go away, Hale. You’re bugging me.”
I ignore the request, and we watch as Jordie poses for pictures with the little girl and then signs her jersey and mini-football. “She’s good with kids,” Tank notes, and I nod my agreement.
“Reece loves her. Jordie was great with her at my house last weekend.”
Tank slowly turns his head toward me and raises one eyebrow. “At your house?”
Waving him off, I say, “She came by so I could look over some contracts for her. Ended up staying for dinner and… stuff.” No way was I going to detail my spa activities.
“Stuff, huh?”
“Stop smirking at me. It wasn’t like that.” Changing the subject, I watch as Jordie gives the shorty a fist bump before turning to the next person in line. I waggle my index finger in that direction. “Now this one, you really need to keep an eye on. I think she’s up to something.”
Tank huffs out a sigh. “Isn’t that your sister?”
I cackle. “Yes, that’s Perri.”
After my sister is done meeting Jordie, she trots over to us, holding up her signed jersey, T-shirt, and sneaker box and doing a little wiggle. I give her a kiss on the cheek.
“Hey, bro,” she says. “You changing your career to bodyguard?”
