The words hit like a slap. My ears go hot. My hands curl into fists without thinking. Something protective flares in my chest. Before I can think better of it, I step into his space, close enough that he has to look up to meet my eyes.
"That's enough," I say, my voice deadly quiet. "You're here to do a job, not to harass my client. Finish the installation, keep your opinions to yourself, and maybe think twice before approaching someone in their private home and demanding photos."
His eyes widen in surprise. "Whoa, I didn't mean..."
"I don't care what you meant," I cut him off. "You know what? Pack up your tools. You're done for the day. I'll have Matthews finish your stations."
"You're kicking me off the job?" Now he looks genuinely alarmed. "Come on, man, it was just a comment."
"Wrong comment, wrong time, wrong person," I say, not backing down. "Out. Now."
He stares at me for a moment, like he's considering arguing further, then thinks better of it. Muttering under his breath, he gathers his tools and heads for the door.
I watch him go, my heart still pounding with an anger that caught me completely off guard. What the hell was that about? Since when do I fly off the handle defending a client's honor?
Matthews appears from the utility room, looking confused. "Did Terry leave?"
Terry. That was his name.
"Yeah," I reply, already regretting my outburst. "He had to go. You'll need to finish his stations."
"Everything okay?"
"Fine," I say shortly. "Let's just get this done."
But as we return to work, I can't shake the strange feeling in my chest. The way Jade's laugh had caught me off guard. The swift, protective rage I'd felt when that tech insulted her. The fact that despite our rocky start, I'm beginning to... what? Care about her opinion of me? Want to see that rare smile again?
Dios mío. This is exactly the kind of complication we don't need on this job. Ethan's been acting weird, Declan's the same especially after the self-defense session. And now I'm throwing technicians out for saying things I might have thought myself aweek ago.
What is it about Jade Sinclair that's getting under all our skins? Is it the mystery? The vulnerability beneath that icy exterior? Or simply the forced proximity, making us all a little crazy?
I don't have answers, just a growing sense that this assignment is veering into dangerous territory. Professional lines blurring, emotions getting involved. The exact things that can compromise judgment, create blind spots, get people hurt.
"Fuck my life," I mutter, turning back to my tablet. "Couldn't we have just gotten a nice, simple billionaire to protect?"
10
DECLAN
"He called her what?" Ethan's voice is dangerously quiet as Mateo recounts yesterday's incident with the security tech.
"You heard me," Mateo says, pacing the pool house living room. "Right to her face. Well, her back, technically. Guy's lucky all I did was kick him off the job."
I lean against the kitchen counter, listening silently as I nurse my morning coffee. It's been a week since we moved in, and already the professional boundaries are blurring. Mateo defending Jade's honor. Ethan checking on her late at night. Me...
I shut down that train of thought. What happened in the gym stays in the gym.
"Is the security system fully operational now?" Ethan asks, steering the conversation back to practical matters.
"Completely," Mateo nods. "State of the art. If someone so much as breathes wrong near the property line, we'll know about it."
"Good." Ethan runs a hand through his hair, a gesture I've come to recognize as a sign of concern. "She's still not sleeping. I ran into her in the kitchen again last night. Third time this week."
"The threats are getting to her," Mateo suggests.
"It's more than that." Ethan frowns, staring into his coffee cup like it holds answers. "She's wound tight. Needs an outlet."
His gaze shifts to me. I don't like where this is going.
