Despite my mood, It’s impossible not to smile for real when he says something so lovely. “You look pretty good, too.” And he does. Webb is wearing a pair of tan shorts that expose his muscled legs, and a blue short-sleeved button-down that matches the color of his eyes. His hair is slightly wind blown, like he had the windows of the car open on the way over. He’s freshly shaven, making him look younger than he is, and he smells clean, like soap and citrus.
Webb takes my hand, his expression still solemn as he looks at me. “I just asked if you were okay because you look a little… upset, I guess. If it’s not a good?—”
“It is.” As shaken as I am, I know from experience that holing up in my apartment is the worst thing to do right now. So I grab my bag from the hook beside the door, toss my hateful phone inside, and slip it over my shoulder. “It’s a perfect time.”
He inspects me for a second. His brows pull into a worried V. “We haven’t known each other long, but if you ever need anything, I’m here. Okay?”
As I look into his eyes, seeing his genuine concern, I’m tempted to tell him everything. Or, barring that, at least the part about my ex-boss harassing me. It would be so nice, so comforting, to have him on my side.
But he’s right. We haven’t known each other long. And to unburden myself like that, to pull him into a bunch of drama when things are still so new…
“I know,” I tell him. Then I squeeze his hand and tilt my head at the door. “I’m ready to go if you are.”
He gives me another long look. “Okay.” He squeezes my hand back. “I can’t wait for you to meet all my friends. And they’re so excited to meet you.”
CHAPTER 6
NOELLE
“Anyone else for a hot dog?”
Ace turns away from the grill to glance across the deck before adding, “We’ve got beef, pork, turkey”—his face pinches in distaste—“and cheese-stuffed. So there are plenty of options.”
“What about the steaks?” Rafe calls over from the outdoor bar. “I thought you were cooking steaks.”
“I am,” Ace replies. “The hot dogs are just an appetizer. Soon, I’ll put the steaks on.”
Rafe pulls two cans of beer from behind the bar and pops them open. “In that case, I’ll take whatever’s the unhealthiest.” He shakes his head. “Turkey dogs at a barbecue? That’s a travesty.”
“Ibought the turkey dogs,” Eden says. She grins at her husband. “And you’re having one. They’re healthier.”
He gives her a look of mock offense. “Are you saying I’m out of shape?”
“Of course not.” She smiles as he takes a seat on the couch beside her, then rests her hand on his thigh. “You’re in greatshape.” Her lips twitch. “But you aren’t getting any younger, you know. And I’d like to keep you around for a long time.”
Webb snickers, and Rafe glares at him. “I don’t know what you’re laughing about, Spidey. It’s not like you’re that much younger than me.”
“I’m still in my thirties,” Webb parries back. “Unlike the old man of the group.”
“I’m in myearlyforties,” Rafe clarifies. Turning his attention to me, he asks, “Are you sure you want to spend time with this guy? Do you see how he’s harassing me about my age?”
“I’m just kidding.” Webb takes my hand and gives me an earnest look. “And Rafe knows it. If it really bothered him, I wouldn’t bring it up.”
Indy chokes on his drink, and Bea gives him a few hard whacks on the back. When he’s finished coughing, he asks, “Are we talking about the same WebbIknow? Because I seem to recallsomeonecalling me a certain name even when I told him not to.”
My gaze bounces around the seating area, a U-shaped collection of outdoor couches set just off to the side of the outdoor kitchen. Indy, Bea, and Tyler are sitting on one couch, Rafe and Eden on the second, with Sam, Webb and I on the third. In the center of the U is a large firepit with a ledge around it for drinks. Mason jars filled with strings of fairy lights hang from the pergola above us, giving the space a cozy feel.
“The lights were a housewarming gift from Dante’s mom,” Webb explained when we first sat down. “Dante heads up the Bravo Team. And when his mom came to visit for our official branch opening, she gave us the lights to use out on the deck.”
“They look really nice,” I told him. “It all does.”
I wasn’t sure what to expect before I came—of the property, the house, or the deck. All Webb had told me ahead of time was that the Shadow Team headquarters—that’s what his team iscalled—is located in a newly-renovated eight-thousand-square-foot house, and it’s surrounded by nearly fourteen acres of wooded property.
But of anything I could have imagined, this far exceeds it. The house is beautiful—a modern three-story with plenty of windows to let in the light and simple but immaculate landscaping—and the way it’s tucked into the woods makes me think of the fairy tales I loved when I was little.
The deck is enormous, with separate areas for eating, lounging, and games. There’s the outdoor kitchen with half a dozen tables arranged nearby, the seating area where we are, and then a rec space, with games like foosball, cornhole, and shuffleboard.
“We wanted a place where we could all feel comfortable hanging out,” Webb explained. “Someplace safe, too. Since we have people here for their protection sometimes.”
