Page 29

You’re not wrong… presents can sometimes be fun. —Zander

CHAPTER 13

JAREK

“What do you mean, a date?” I instantly hate the idea of another guy taking Nina out.

“That’s what she told me.” Zander is clearly trying to act like he doesn’t care. “She’s meeting him for coffee this morning.”

“Mack’s a decent guy, at least,” Pascal adds. The compliment sounds forced.

“Sure,” I scoff.

Pascal rolls his eyes. Always the diplomat. It gets old.

“Nina doesn’t owe us anything,” he says. “She’s free to do whatever she wants on her own time.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” I wave him off. “I’m just saying I don’t like it.”

For a few seconds, nobody says anything. Then Zander, who’s never met a problem he didn’t have a plan for, breaks the silence.

“We could make sure we’re around,” he suggests.

“You want to spy on her date?” I’m not opposed; just surprised Zander’s the one suggesting it.

“Not spying. Just being around.”

“That’s crossing a line,” Pascal says. “Then again, you two crossed that line a while ago.”

Zander ignores the dig and keeps making his case.

“She’s our employee.” He sets down his mug. “She’s a young, single woman in a town she barely knows. It’s our responsibility to make sure she’s safe.”

“I’m sure she’s safe with Mack.” I smirk. “He doesn’t look like he could hurt a fly. But yeah, I’m in.”

We all know this is unnecessary. None of us are ready to admit why we want to hover over Nina like one of the helicopters we left back in the city.

Pascal can’t possibly want her the way I do. He barely cares about anything besides work and his family’s reputation. And Zander would rather chew off his own arm than get attached to a woman. Still, we all end up on board with this crazy plan.

“Be back in a couple hours!” Nina calls, bounding down the stairs and out the door.

None of us answer. The second the door shuts, we grab our coats, pile into Zander’s car, and park down the street from the coffee shop.

Zander ducks into the antique shop across the street and peers through the window like a detective—or maybe more like a stalker. Pascal settles on a bench a few doors down with his phone, probably squeezing in Beaumont business.

I’m not content just watching. Especially not when Nina smiles at Mack, then laughs at something he says.

Is it petty to want to be the one making her laugh like that? Maybe.

I don’t care. I push open the coffee shop door and stroll in like I’m here for beans, even though Nina bought some the other day.

“A pound of the organic dark roast, please.” I flash the barista my signature smile.

She recognizes me instantly and flushes.

“Actually,” I add as she reaches for the beans, “can you grind them?”

“Sure thing!” She dumps them into the grinder.