Under the Gun (CEP Book 3) Page 8
“Yes. You are.”
She let out a humorous laugh as she continued packing. “No, I’m not, Gunner.”
“You fucking are.”
She stopped what she was doing and turned to glare at him. “I’m not sure what part of no you’re not getting here.”
Fuck. She was adorable.
He softened his face. “Look. You can’t stay here. I’ve got plenty of space…”
“That’s why I’m going to stay with Tilly and Oz!”
He raised an eyebrow. “But, babe, they’re still newlyweds. You sure you wanna be there? They’re still in the honeymoon stage as far as I can see.” He saw her hesitation and went for it. “Besides, I’d feel better if you were with me. You were there, hate to say it, but Tilly would be Oz’s priority. With me, you’d be mine.”
Her skeptical look made him grin.
Cute. She was fucking cute.
“I’ll need to talk to Tilly first,” she said coolly but she wasn’t fooling him. Nope. Not one little bit. He knew she felt the connection between them just as much as he did.
And, well, would you look at that? Just look where he was and what he was doing, trying to convince a woman to come home with him—although her rejection just now wasn’t a great boost to the ego. But if he could finally face the fucking music on where they stood, damn it, she could too.
“I think Tilly will agree,” he said, amusement on his face when she gave him another look before starting on her packing again. “I’ll go let her know.” He chuckled, hearing her huff as he left the room. When he found Oz who had his arm around Tilly, he asked, “Anything?”
“Still waiting on the video.” Now Oz gave him a shit-eating grin. “Any luck?”
Gunner shrugged and looked directly at Tilly. “She’s coming with me.”
Tilly grinned great big and nodded which made Gunner like her even that much more. When he saw her bite her lips, he knew Quinn had come in and had probably exchanged a glower or two with her best friend.
“I’m packed,” Quinn informed them.
“Good, honey. Gunner will take good care of you,” Tilly declared.
As the two women engaged in a visual standoff, Gunner stated, “I’ll get your things,” and went back to her bedroom.
Oz followed chuckling. “You sure you know what you’re getting into?” he asked as they retrieved Quinn’s things.
Gunner turned with a sheepish grin toward him. “I hope to fuck so.”
“This is really nice,” Quinn uttered when they got to Gunner’s apartment.
He looked around at his one-room loft and had to agree. From his leather furniture in the living area to his bed that had a full poster of Butch and Sundance’s final scene above it, he liked what he’d done with his place. Of course, dear old Mom had had a bit to do with it, things like real plates in the cabinets and her demanding that he buy plush towels for the bathroom, but for the most part, it was all his doing. She’d just helped him arrange everything logically.
“Thanks,” he said, taking her bags and putting them on a chair next to his bed. “Bathroom’s there,” he explained, pointing, “but I’m sure you’ll be able to catch on to the setup around here.” He chuckled.
She let out a sigh and sat on the edge of his bed. Looking down at her, his protective instincts took over and he sat next to her, pulling her into his lap.
“It’s gonna be okay, Quinn.”
He knew at any other time, she’d probably fight him, but she was exhausted, allowing him to hold her, and he found he loved it. Resting her head on his shoulder she let out a breath.
“Not a whole lot happens with my job other than listening to these poor kids. And I can handle it. I’m trained to handle it,” she revealed. “But this…this has really rattled me. I’m—I’m not sure what to do.”
“I know,” he murmured against the top of her head. “We’ll figure it out.”
They sat there for a while until he heard her breathing even out and he knew she was asleep. He stood and carried her to the side of the bed, pulled back the covers and lay her down. As he reached to cover her, her hand caught his arm and he looked down to see green eyes watching him.
“Don’t leave me,” she whispered.
God. She looked so small and vulnerable and he wanted to kill the motherfucker who’d done this to her.
“I won’t. I’ve got to do a couple things and I’ll be right back, okay?”
She nodded sleepily then closed her eyes. When he was sure she was asleep again, he went to the kitchen and got a beer out of the fridge, then sitting at the bar where he could keep an eye on her, he called his dad.
“Yeah,” Hank answered gruffly.
“Dad, we’ve got a situation.”
Gunner went on to explain things and Hank agreed to let him pick up Quinn as a “case” but reminded him that he’d need him for a few things in the following weeks.
“It’s good. If I can’t be with her, one of the guys can or she can go to Tilly’s.”
“We’ll make it work.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
They hung up and after checking to make sure doors were locked and security codes were set, Gunner went to shower, remembering to grab sleep pants since he normally slept in the buff. Once finished and dressed, he checked everything again before lying down next to Quinn and had to chuckle because the minute he lay next to her, she turned and draped her entire body over him.
Huh.
And he didn’t have a problem with it at all.
Chapter 11
Quinn lay staring at the way too handsome man in bed next to her, taking in all of his rugged features: long eyelashes that curled up a bit, a perfect nose that was strong with a straight edge, high cheekbones, and lips that were full and beautiful and just begging for her lips to be on them. Damn. Her eyes also roved over his strong arm that was outside the covers, the bulge of his biceps, his muscular forearm, the part of his sculpted pec that she could see peeking out from under the covers.
Good lord. She didn’t see any flaws at all in the man which made her a bit hesitant because maybe he was too perfect. As her eyes made their way back up from his chest to his chiseled jawline covered in scruff, she was just wowed by him until her eyes moved up to see stark blue ones looking back at her.
Uh.
“Mornin’,” he said, and she watched his lips curl up in a sexy grin.
“Hey,” she whispered back, embarrassed about being caught practically drooling over him.
He pulled up on his elbow and dear God, that chest. She had to get out of there now or she’d, again, make a huge mistake by, oh, maybe jumping on top of him and riding him like a frickin’ bronco. She turned to get out of bed but putting a hand on her shoulder he pulled her back down on the bed.
“Where’re you going?” he asked.
To get as far away from your tempting ass as I can so I don’t get my heart broken. “I need to, uh, brush my teeth.”
“Hang on a sec.”
Lord. It was too early in the morning to be consumed by radiant blue eyes attached to a killer body. She swallowed roughly as she lay looking at him waiting for him to say what he needed to say so she could get the hell gone.
“How’re you doing this morning?” he questioned.
She bit her lip as she assessed her emotional state regarding yesterday’s events.
“I think I’m okay,” she answered, kind of surprised.
“Good.” He nodded slowly. “So what’re your plans today?”
She thought for a second. “Um, work, just like any other day?”
He gave her his killer smile and she melted right then and there. Gah.
“What are your hours?” he queried.
“Nine to whenever I get my session notes logged in.”
He nodded again.
Their eyes stayed locked for a moment until she couldn’t take it any longer. “And?”
He smiled slowly and wasn’t that the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Jee
z.
“I’ll take you to work. Hang around for a while to make sure you’re good. Then I’ve got another job at four but I’ll be back.” She pulled her head back in question. “You’re my case now.”
“I didn’t hire you.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m on your case.”
“That’s what the detective is for.”
He grinned. “I’m an added bonus.”
This made her frown because, shit! That’s what this was all about! She was just a case for him. There she was, all swoony for him, and to him she was nothing but a job. Ugh.
“Whatever. May I go brush my teeth now?” she snapped.
“You may.” He smirked.
Fucker.
She got out of bed and semi-stomped to the bag he’d put on the chair, opening it and grabbing what she needed. Then without a glance back at him, she went to the bathroom to do her thing which included showering.
As she washed, she couldn’t help but be pissed that she’d interpreted his bringing her home as a sign that he cared. Nope. She was nothing but just another job for him. “Stupid!” she hissed as she moved to let the water come down on her head. “So fucking stupid!”
“You say something?” he asked making her squeak out a scream.
“What’re you doing in here? Get out!” she yelled, covering herself with her hands since the shower was glass…and totally see through.
She heard him chuckle. “Only one bathroom, babe. Gotta share.”
“Share means use separately!” The toilet flushed and her mouth dropped open. “Did you just pee?”
“Babe. It’s morning. I just got up. So yeah.”
Wow.
“Well, you’ve done your thing, so bye.”
He barked out a laugh. “Gotta brush my teeth then I’m gone.”
Damn. She wished she could be so nonchalant about everything instead of uptight. She waited another minute before he told her she was all clear and the door closed.
“Jesus,” she muttered before washing her hair.
At the office, Justine was behind her desk holding an envelope out to Quinn when she came in.
“This was in front of the office door this morning,” she explained.
“Shit!” Quinn declared making Justine’s eyes get big.
Her eyes got even bigger when Gunner told her to drop it, which she did, right on the floor in front of the desk.
Gunner produced leather gloves out of his jacket pocket pulling them on then bending to pick up the envelope asked, “Which office is yours?” Quinn pointed. “Explain to her,” he instructed nodding toward Justine before leaving them alone.
Quinn turned to look at her secretary who’s eyes had widened even more, probably as big as hers were now.
“That’s Gunner Murphy. He works for Citadel Executive Protection. He’s here to help me.”
“Help you what?”
Without disclosing too much, she told what had happened the previous night explaining first the threat from Tommy Edwards and then the bracelet.
“Are you in danger?” Justine asked, looking worried.
“Probably not.” At Justine’s raised brow, Quinn clarified. “Some, I guess. But I’m hoping this will be the end of it. Gunner will let security know what’s going on so they’ll be more watchful.”
“Um, do I need to be worried?” Justine was twenty-four and had had a baby three months earlier. Her husband had just graduated law school and was studying to take the bar exam the next month. Money for them was tight so she’d come back to work the month before.
“Give me a moment,” Quinn told her, sticking her head in her office to see Gunner poring over whatever the envelope had held. Needless to say, she wasn’t too fired up to see what it held. “Hey,” she said quietly. When he glanced up, she continued. “Should my secretary maybe work from home? She just had a baby and I don’t want her or her family to be in any kind of danger.”
Gunner looked pensive for a second then nodded which startled her.
“Oh. Okay,” she said weakly staring at him before going back out to the main office. “Justine, can you work at home until Gunner gets things figured out?”
“What?” Justine looked just as startled as she felt.
“I know. It’s weird.” Quinn shook her head trying to make sense of it all. “Go ahead and get your things and go home. Use the remote access to your computer and I’ll call you when it’s safe to come back.”
Justine nodded as she gathered her purse and coat then came around her desk. Hugging Quinn, she whispered, “Be safe.”
“I will.”
Quinn watched her leave then reluctantly went to her office seeing that Gunner was on his phone now and not sounding very happy.
“Motherfucker sent pictures,” he grumbled into the phone.
Pictures? Oh, God. What kind of pictures?
“Yeah, I will. Thanks.”
“Who was on the phone?” she asked.
“Detective Jared. Told him about these.” He pointed toward the pictures then studied her a moment. “Think you can handle this?”
She wasn’t sure but she had to know, so nodding slowly she walked to her desk where several photos were laid out. When she saw what they were, she gasped. One picture was a knife at a woman’s throat with blood trickling down, another was of a mutilated animal but the one that really caught her eye was of her leaving the elevator on her floor at her apartment building. The words Die Bitch were written in dripping red ink across it.
Quinn twisted her head to the side turning one around and as she looked it, she pointed at it and taking a step back cried, “That’s from last night!”
Gunner picked it up and examined it closely. “Had to have been taken from the stairwell. You didn’t notice anyone?”
“Just in the stairwell here!” Oh, God. She was fully freaking out now.
His head shot up. “Someone was here watching you here?”
Deep breathing to calm herself down while shaking her hands out at her sides, she explained, “No, no, it was a janitor. But I didn’t look at my building. I was too busy focusing on the bracelet.” She shuddered at the memory.
“I need all the information on this kid who threatened you.”
Wringing her hands in worry now, all she could do was stare at the other two photos on her desk. God! What kind of sick bastard would send these to her?
Then what he said started to sink in and just as she started to protest, he cut her off. “I don’t give a fuck if it goes against your ethical code. I want you alive so fuck all that shit.”
She frowned at him and at the thought of going against her training. But then again, gee, let’s see. Stick to the codes or stay safe. Hm. Wasn’t really a necessary argument if she looked at it that way. Gunner had put the photos back into the envelope, thank God, so she made her way to her computer and after it came on, she pulled up Ben Edwards’s file.
“Here’s the last information I have for him,” she said, pointing at it with a shaky finger for Gunner to see.
He grabbed some paper and a pen and wrote it along with the contact number down then looked at her. “Gonna give Oz a call. Babe. You okay?” At her nod he instructed, “You do what you do and I’ll be out here at the desk.”
“I have a client coming in,” she looked at the clock, “ten minutes.” She pulled up her schedule on the computer. “Another at ten, one at noon, then two, three-thirty and five.”
“Damn. Are kids that fuckin’ screwed up?”
He winked which kept her from getting offended and she smiled. “I guess so.”
“Gonna take care of this, baby,” he said, bending to look at her as he held her by her shoulders.
Somehow gathering some strength from the contact, she blew out a breath and replied, “All right. I’m gonna call Daphne to let her know what’s going on.”
“Good.” He stood straight and nodded.
“Now, go be my secretary for the day and I’ll get ready after I call her.”
Another wink. Another smirk and he left her office.
Okay. She could do this.
She hoped.
As the morning went along, Quinn had to laugh every time a client left because when she’d follow them out to the lobby, they’d stare in awe at Gunner wondering who he was. The funny thing was, every once in a while, he’d look up and smile at one of them which stopped them right in their tracks. The girls especially which made Quinn roll her eyes at their giddiness but she’d giggle right along with them. The mothers were a whole other situation, ogling the hell out of him and trying to make small talk all of which he ignored which made her snicker secretly.
But he’d been great, handling everything almost as well as Justine did even as he did his own work, which consisted mostly of talking on the phone. He’d taken her phone calls and written notes for appointments and had even gotten them lunch so she could eat between her noon and two o’clock appointments. He’d been busy, so she’d eaten at her desk, but it was all good.
When her two-o’clock appointment left, she approached the desk where he sat.
“My next appointment isn’t for thirty more minutes. You said you had to leave at four?”
“I do but I’ll be back around six, so stay put.”
“You’re awfully bossy,” she mumbled as she turned to go back to her office.
“I care.”
That stopped her in her tracks. Turning around, she saw that he was back to messing with his phone sending a text or something of the sort.
Well, she guessed his caring was better than nothing.
She wore a huge smile when she went back into her office.
Chapter 12
“I can’t believe I’m having to do this shit,” Gunner griped into his handheld mic, sitting on a bench in Central Park.
“Dude, shut up. You’ll blow our cover,” Boone hissed from a bench across the way.
“Jesus Christ. I’ve got better things to do,” Gunner complained.
They’d been hired for an hour by two women who ran an art display in the park and said they’d been getting paintings stolen almost daily by who they thought was the same man. So now there Gunner and Boone sat keeping an eye out waiting to catch a thief.