Page 117
He shot me a hard look. “You owe me for this.”
Belle padded into the kitchen in a matching shorts set that was hugging her curves a little too well. I didn’t want Marco’s eyes on her with her looking like that. Her face was in her phone and took a few steps into the kitchen before realizing Marco was there.
She mugged him. “Why are you here?”
“Good morning to you too,” he replied.
She rolled her eyes and went to the cabinet for a coffee mug. At some point, she noticed me and Marco watching her as she pulled food out the fridge for breakfast.
“Did I interrupt some secret crime lord meeting?” she asked as she put bread in the toaster.
“Something like that,” I said.
“Mm.”
“Actually,” Marco said, setting his phone down. “Dez needs to run something by you.”
She whipped around to look at me.
I cleared my throat. “Marco’s going to be your security detail going forward.”
“I’m sorry?” She put her hands on her hips. I really wanted to ask her to throw a robe or something because her outfit was so distracting. “Why do I need a security detail?”
“There are some things going on and I want to make sure you’re protected,” I said.
“Like what? You know what—” She shook her head “I don’t even want to know. But I don’t even go anywhere. You took my job, remember? So what’s left? Pilates? Me getting my hair and nails done? What exactly are you protecting me from? My nail tech? The niggas at the deli?”
“Belle—”
Marco’s gaze volleyed between us, clearly enjoying the show. I needed to do something before I knocked the shit out of him, so I moved around her, took the bread and started buttering it. “It’s not about where you go. It’s about who might come for you.”
“So what? Marco’s gonna pull a gun on me if I don’t comply?”
My hand stopped moving. I set the knife down on the edge of the plate, giving myself a second to gather my thoughts.
“That’s not what this is,” I said.
Marco stood. “Yeah, I’ma let y’all work this out. Trust me, Belle, I don’t want to do this shit no more than you.”
“I’ll holla at you,” I nodded at him as he headed for the elevator.
Belle picked at the mango and cold toast that I set in front of her. “There’s something else isn’t there?”
“Yes.”
“Can it wait until I finish eating?”
“You’re not even eating, just pouting and picking at your food.”
She flipped me off.
“We need to talk about the wedding.”
She sighed and wiped her hands on a napkin. “What about it?”
“We need to be married before the year is up.”
“That’s three months.”
