“Right,” Gray answered, the warm feeling in his gut turning into a tighter and tighter knot.
Into a hot lump of coal, in fact.
“I’ll be ready for her.”
By the time he made it back down to the guest house, Gray was beating himself up again. Jameson might not hold the catastrophe at the door against him, but whatever crisis was about to unfold, Gray still knew it was his own damn fault. He got one of his ideas and acted out like he thought he was some kind of bigshot, and not only did he mess up Jameson’s peace and quiet, he made an ass out of himself, too.
“You just had to slap the asshole,” he muttered to himself. “You just had to go and piss him off.”
He sighed, then sat down at the desk with all the video feeds. Sparing the crowd at the gate, the monitors all looked to be clear. Maybe, Gray thought, rumors about the violent security guard would at least keep a few reporters on the right side of the fence. In the meanwhile, though, he was smart enough to know when he was in over his head, and he reluctantly punched up his uncle’s number on his phone.
“Gray? How the hell are you? I was going to call you later today to get an update on the job.”
“Does that mean you’ve seen the news?”
Declan grunted. “Seb and I are still in bed. We haven’t seen shit today.”
Gray swallowed his pride, then launched into the story. He left out some of the finer details, like how many times he had kicked the photographer in the ass while he tried to climb the fence, and he carefully skipped over the slapping detail from the incident the night before. But he shared enough to get the basic problem across and to own up that he hadn’t exactly been professional with Jameson, at least not entirely.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Declan,” he said. “I didn’t mean to let you down. And I really didn’t mean to let Jameson down, either. He’s so great, he really is, and he doesn’t deserve this mess.”
His uncle didn’t say anything for a minute, but his breath sounded heavy in the phone. Gray wanted to punch the wall, he was so frustrated with himself. On top of all else, to disappoint his uncle and show that he wasn’t mature enough for the security gig? He hated that.
“Listen, Gray. I need to ask you something. Are you and Jameson hooking up?”
Gray bit down on his lip. He wanted to tell his uncle the truth, but he was scared to say it aloud, like the paparazzi might have bugged his phone. And anyway, the answer was technically no, although that morning in bed was just about the most intimate thing Gray had ever shared with a guy, considering his usual hookups tended to take off before the cum dried.
“Right,” Declan said. “Got it.”
Gray jumped to his feet and started to nervously pace around the house. “I can do the job,” he said. “I swear I’m not going to mess it up. Your business won’t suffer at all for this.”
Declan barked a laugh. “I’m not worried about that. You know Justin Sweet is the one paying the bills, Gray. And I have the impression your client is very satisfied with the work you’re doing. But if you’re distracted, you’re right—that’s no good for his security. We really should think about getting someone else in there.”
Wincing, Gray shook his head. He felt like his uncle was about to take Jameson away, and all of his instincts rose up, ready to swipe. “I can do the job, I swear.” One thing he knew: leaving Jameson with someone else, someone he didn’t trust, would not help his client at all. “And I’ll be honest with myself. I won’t let anything bad happen. And if it looks like we’re in trouble, I’ll let you know.”
Declan grunted. “You’re just lucky we listed a shell company for the security services to keep things discreet. If those fucking tabloids came knocking at my door, I’d have your ass. But I understand, Gray. You gotta do what you gotta do.”
Gray stopped walking. He was in the kitchen, between the table and the high counter. “You do?”
“Listen,” Declan answered. “When I was working as Seb’s security guard, I tore myself up, trying to deny what was happening between the two of us. But it didn’t do me any good. In fact, it only made things worse. Because you can’t deny who you are, Gray, and you can’t deny who you’re meant to be, either.”
“But how do you know?” Gray objected. “Just because something was right for you and Seb doesn’t mean that’s what’s happening here. We’re still barely getting to know each other.”
Declan laughed. “Gray, do you have any idea how many texts you’ve sent me about your client?”
“I’m updating you on the job,” Gray protested. He leaned back, his elbows on the counter. “It’s part of the contract.”
“The contract doesn’t say you need to tell me what the guy had for breakfast.”
Gray sucked on his teeth. “Okay, fair point. So what, you’re saying to just go for it? He’s like a mega celebrity, Uncle Declan. I’m just some messed up kid.”
“I’m saying that you don’t just have to be honest with yourself, Gray. You have to trust yourself, too. I wouldn’t have hired you for this job if I didn’t think you could handle it. And if I know anything about my nephew, it’s that you’ll fight like hell for the people you care about.”
Declan cursed a little more, then went into giving a crash course for dealing with the reporters at the gate. He ranted about security protocol, and Gray scrawled down some notes on the back of a box of cereal while he listened, eager to get the information. When he got off the phone, his thoughts immediately returned to the morning and the way Jameson had tried to reassure him that things would be fine.
Thought I’d get one more taste in, while we had the chance.
Gray grinned. Just hearing Jameson’s voice in his head was soothing, and an idea lit up inside of him.
