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July blinked.

Fletch was determined. “If you need protection from me, I’ll give it to you. You know I’m trusting you in a way that could get me killed. There’s a group of assassins who live here.”

July blinked again. It was obvious he hadn’t seen that one coming. “Well, that’s terrifying.”

Fletch shook his head. “They’re actually pretty amazing guys. One of them is Austen’s husband.”

“Oh.”

He wanted to laugh at how that one word screamed he didn’t know where to go with that one. “Anyhow, I’ll draw up a contract against my life. I’ll leave my final wishes with Beau, so he knows it’s my decision. If I ever physically hurt you or emotionally abuse you, then you can drop the hammer. You can call in the contract at no cost to you. I’ll have a fund set up for Beau to release the payment once I’m dead. I’ll also set up a bank account for you I can’t touch, with no strings attached. If you’d like, I’ll have a contract drawn up about that too.”

July was shaking his head before Fletch had even finished. “That’s not happening. I could never do that.” His eyes were wide. “I’m not a killer.” July twisted the hem of his shirt. “Please? I’ve tried so hard to forget who I was in the military. That’s not me. I’m a good boy. I love pretty things. You can’t fear me like that. I swear I’ll be good.”

Fletch had honestly believed his offer would reassure July, but July was on the verge of a panic attack. His eyes were filled with desperation—like a trapped animal. “Don’t make me do that. I can’t. Everyone expects bad from me. Please?” The pleading was too much. Fletch scooped July into his arms and held on. While he was mindful of July’s injuries, he had to take away the fear. He pressed his lips against July’s temple and made a shushing sound while rocking him.

“Don’t go there, hurricane. I’ve got you. I’ll never make you do anything. You’re free with me. I promise. You’re free here.” He felt the way July shook, and he hated it.

July sniffed. “Hurricane?”

Fletch smiled against July’s temple. “Yeah. You’re my beautiful but wild force of nature.”

July went silent. His shaking lessened. July’s fingertips moved the neck of Fletch’s shirt. He traced the line back and forth. The move made Fletch wonder if July needed to touch bare skin to ensure Fletch was real. “I like that name. After all, I’m July and hurricane season is in July in China.”

Fletch smiled so big, his cheeks protested. July had a mind Fletch would never understand. “Spend as much money as you want, okay? I’ll find a job for you here if you’d like. Beau pays well.”

July’s lips brushed his neck. “Thank you.”

Fletch closed his eyes and savored the phantom sensation of July’s lips lingering on his neck. He was back on solid ground. July was everything he needed.

Chapter Eight

The moment he stepped inside the playroom at The PlayPen, Fletch spotted July. A smile exploded across his face. A beehive wig sat on July’s head as he danced to the music either in his head or his AirPods. Either way, watching his cute booty shake made Fletch’s day.

July obviously caught sight of him before Fletch made it to that side of the room. He bounced up and down. The wig slid off and hit the floor. July glanced down, shrugged, and then went back to hopping.

Wow. No one had ever been happy to see him. Unconsciously, Fletch’s eyes slid to where Sammie slept with his head on a teddy bear and covered by a crocheted blanket. His nose was red. That dude had definitely cried it out, annoying the fuck out of everyone. Someone had covered him. Maybe Fletch would be rid of him. The moment struck Fletch like no other time he had spent with July. July was always happy to see him. The only time Fletch had seen him cry was when he broke his wrist. Otherwise, July was just pure joy and sunshine in his life.

When he reached July, he fought the urge to bundle July in his arms and not let go. He couldn’t do that. They hadn’t talked about feelings yet.

Apparently, July had no such qualms or care of communication. He leapt forward and hugged Fletch around the middle, squeezing him.

“Oh my gosh. I’m so happy you’re here.”

He was a little too upbeat. “Have you been drinking?”

July stepped back and beamed at him. “Yep. I had a Red Bull.”

A loud and unexpected laugh burst from Fletch. The sound was so obnoxious that he looked around to see how many people looked his way. When he met July’s cheerful gaze again, something fluttered in his chest. The muscles in his stomach flexed. His entire body reacted at only the sight of July’s smiling face.

Well, goddamn. Fletch loved this oddball. When the fuck had that happened?

Watching July sleep never got old. Fletch had been at it for days and couldn’t stop. July had undergone a transformation right before his eyes, and Fletch couldn’t tear his gaze away from the show. Maybe it was Fletch’s need to spoil and protect. But July had gone from drug-induced fitful sleep to deep, at-peace rest. Fletch wanted to think that was his doing. At least he hoped July’s peace was due to him. He slept like the dead, trusting Fletch would keep him safe. July knew Fletch was next to him, ensuring nothing happened to him while he got the healing rest he needed. This was Fletch’s place in life. He felt that shit right in his chest.

Hazel eyes fluttered open. A smile touched July’s lips. “Are you watching me sleep?”

Fletch couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m sorry. I can’t stop.”

July’s soft chuckle warmed Fletch’s heart. “I love your eyes.”