Nice try, buddy. Bruno is off-limits.
He pulls into the parking garage, and I deflect. “What else do I need to know walking in tonight?”
“It’ll be a bunch of athletes, celebrities, models, influencers, reporters, cameras. . . These things are lots of small talk and networking.”
“You need to stick close to me, and when we get in there, I need a minute to survey the people and space. I’ve studied the layout and memorized the exit routes, but. . . What kind of contact do you expect—”
“Ryder, breathe.” He pulls into a parking spot in the dimly lit garage. “I’ll stay right by your side. I’ll give you whatever time you need, and if the person who wants to take me out is here, hopefully, they’ll screw up and get caught.”
Why does he have to be so nice and agreeable?
He turns the car off and shifts in his seat to face me. “I promised you we’d have fun.” He smiles, and it takes all my courage not to look away. “You should know I don’t break promises.”
That smooth tone causes my punk-ass stomach to pinch tight, but for some reason, I don’t loathe it.
I push my door open, ready to get this show on the road. “I’m here to do a job, Matthews.”
Cole slips on his suit jacket and joins me at the back of his Range Rover.
“You know, Jones, it might be time for you to break a rule or two.” He throws my words back at me with that damn grin.
We head toward the stairwell. “Huh. I don’t have any problem breaking rules. That’s exactly what put me here.”
We walk, but Cole eyes me, and I have no doubt he caught that little comment. I don’t give him time to ask questions.
“This place is high risk. We could find out how badly this person wants you gone.” I flip open my tiny purse, checking for my phone, a multitool that should make it through security, and a lighter because you never know when you’ll need one. If only I had my backpack and my Sig.
“If I tell you to do something, I need you to do it,” I remind him. “There’s no time for questions. Do you understand?” I turn to meet his eyes.
“Ok.” His tone is serious now. “Do you think this guy would risk showing up at a place like this?”
“We’re entering like they’re already here, keeping our eyes and ears open, watching everything.” I stop outside the massiveevent center, giving him a second to process. “Ready to get to work?”
He blows out a breath. “That was a bit of a buzz kill.”
I huff out a laugh. “Yeah, good luck keeping your promise.”
A slow smile creeps across his mouth, and he leans into me, but not close enough to touch. “Jones, Ialwayskeep my promises. You and I are about to have some fun.”
He swings the door open and waits for me to step through. I stare at him, and his smile grows a bit wider, knowing I can’t argue this time. Something about that grin warns me that I should be more worried about him rather than what might be waiting inside.
Through the doors, we’re greeted by security as cameras flash and sports stars adjust their pose in front of sponsored banners.
Cole leans close, his whisper grazing my ear as his fingers lightly brush my waist. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
I survey the space. The lighting is dimmer than I’d expected, and people are everywhere. I can’t see beyond the hanging backdrops and want to know what’s on the other side.
“You all right?” he asks, his chest bumping into my shoulder.
I finish accounting for every exit sign and possibility. When I glance up at him, his eyes are focused on me, searching and waiting patiently before moving us forward.
“Smoother than a fresh jar of Skippy.” I quote my favorite Bruno song, giving Cole that one thing and that one thing only.
His head falls back with a burst of laughter.
I bite my lip, keeping it together as I watch him. The most beautiful sound causes something in the center of me to take flight.
Maybe hanging with Cole Matthews tonight won’t be so bad.
