Blair’s eyes search mine as her brows furrow. “Badass…? Wait, does this mean you’re not bothered that I’ve…” She pauses before deciding to go in a different direction. “That my dad does illegal contract work?”
“I don’t really care about your dad,” I assure her. “I’m more curious about you. Are you a killer?”
Blair lets out a soft scoff as she looks away from me. She grabs her elbow with her opposite hand and bites her bottom lip. Her throat bobs as she swallows. It’s the first time today that I’ve seen her look her size and so vulnerable. After a few thoughtful moments of quiet she finally looks back at me, looking guilty.
“Ah, yeah. I guess so. I’ve never taken a contract though,” she admits. “And I would never go after you or anyone else here, I promise. I’ve only killed people trying to kill me. I swear I’m not a bad guy, it’s only been for–”
My laughter cuts her off. I close the distance between us and give her a light kiss on the cheek. The motion surprises Blair, and if I’m being honest, it surprises me too. I can’t help it though, she’s a beacon of perfection and every time she opens her mouth, or whenever I learn something new about her, she only intrigues me further.
“Relax, I’m thrilled,” I tell her with a grin as I step back, giving her space.
Blair stares at me in bewilderment. “Ah,thrilled, Santi?”
“Yeah.” I give her a wink and take another step back, toward the back door. “It’s nice to have another killer under the roof. Morally gray assholes are the best type of people to have around.”
With that, I turn and leave Blair, laughing as I go.
Rhett might not see it now, but I think having Blair around is going to be a whole hell of a lot of fun.
Chapter 11
Ledger
The trek up to the cabin from Zone One is nearly a mile, though it feels longer with the multiple zig zags. Usually, I enjoy the slow walk up from The Shop where I usually end my days. It gives me time to clear my head of the mundane problems of running a business. Tonight, however, the distance is killing me. It’s taking everything in me not to run the rest of the way to the house toher.
I don’t run, though. Instead, my pace is casual, my body relaxed. My heart, however, is pounding rapidly. With each step forward, I can feel the pull to Blair grow more taut and demanding. I’m a sick man. Anchor would never approve of the union I seek with his daughter. What’s worse is that I agree with him. I’m notgoodfor Blair.
I can’t have her, not really, but by shoving her into Wes’s path, I’ve given her over to someone who will treat her like how I would if I was a sane individual.
I can hear voices as I grow closer to the house. As I round the last bend, the cabin comes into view. Almost everyone is outin the backyard. There’s a fire going in the firepit and Wes is manning the grill, flipping a big slab of meat as I approach. A few feet away on the other side of the fire is Santi and Rhett, who are talking passionately about something. The cabin itself is lit up, the lights on in almost every room and spilling out into the backyard.
My gaze snags on movement through a window.
Blair moves around in the kitchen, peering through cabinets searching for something. My feet slow as I watch her. From here, I can tell her expression is pinched with concentration. When she pulls whatever she was looking for from one of the cabinets, her expression doesn’t relax. Instead, it only seems to deepen as if something’s bothering her.
A moment later, she steps out through the back door with two large casserole dishes in both of her hands. She takes each step down the back stairs, eyeing the dishes warily as she attempts not to drop them. Wes notices her at the same time as I start to jog forward to help. He places the tongs down and moves to assist Blair.
“Hold on, grab the mitt too. The dish is hot,” she warns as Wes starts to take one from her.
“I got it,” he assures her.
I get a whiff of whatever’s she’s made and instantly my stomach grumbles loudly. Shit, that smells amazing.
“What’s for dinner?” I ask them as I approach.
“Steak,” Wes answers, as he nods his greeting to me. “And…” He glances at my godchild, waiting for her response.
Blair smiles at him, then at me. The worry that had her brows pulled together and had her mouth pinched tight has vanished from view. But there, in the depths of her eyes, I can see it lurking like a shadow just beneath the surface of her calm demeanor.
“Wes has the garlic butter roasted mushrooms in his hands and in mine, I have the parmesan roasted asparagus with tomatoes, drizzled with balsamic vinegarette,” she replies.
Wes whistles as he stares down at the dish in his hand. “Alright, if this tastes as good as it looks and smells, I’ll allow you to continue to help cook?—”
“What smells better than the steak?” Santi yells from across the yard.
“Oh boy,” I groan, then sigh. “Brace yourself, Santiago and food are a dangerous combination.”
Wes chuckles as we all head for the large wooden table on the far side of the yard. Santi makes a beeline for us, ditching Rhett without a backward glance. He meets us halfway to the table then practically yanks the dish from Wes’s hands to peer down into it.
