Hot As Sin

2

When he fails to look impressed, I add, “They’re the Rolls Royce of private security firms. Heads of state, international business tycoons, governments—Metrix protects a bunch of heavy hitters.”

Kenji’s big brown eyes grow wide. “What about George and Amal Clooney?”

When I say, “No celebrities,” he immediately loses interest.

“It sounds terrifically dull. But at least you’ll be in the Big Apple.”

“Actually, I’ll only be in New York for a day to get settled in my new apartment before I leave for my first assignment in Cozumel, Mexico.”

“Really? Doing what?”

“I could tell you, but…”

He groans theatrically. “Then you’d have to kill me. Puh-lease! No more bodyguard humor, it’s almost as sad as your outfit!”

It’s my turn to look down at myself. I’m wearing jeans, a black T-shirt, and black boots. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

“Nothing, if your goal is to look like every other dude in the history of dudes! At least when you wear your Armani suits you look like a proper badass. This is just completely giving up.”

He makes another retching noise, indicating his poor opinion of my clothing with a dismissive flick of his wrist.

“Okay, seeing how it’s my last day in L.A., I’ll let you pick out something for me to wear.” I jerk my chin at the rack of clothes.

Kenji emits an ear-piercing shriek and claps his hands, hopping up and down in his Dorothy heels. “Really? Omigod, omigod, this is going to be so much fun! Kenji gets to dress you!”

I’m already regretting it.

“One thing.” I hold up a finger. “One. And nothing with feathers, for f**k’s sake.”

But he’s already spinning away, rifling through the rack and humming “I Feel Pretty” from West Side Story.

This was a terrible idea.

I’m relieved when he pulls out a simple dove gray silk vest.

“Here.” He tosses it at me and keeps digging.

I sling the vest over my shoulders and button it. Then I try not to breathe. “It doesn’t fit.”

He turns and does a double take, his mouth popping open. He puts his hand to his throat. “Oh, honey. You are sadly mistaken. That. Fits like. A. Glove.”

He glides over making tutting noises while I inhale shallow breaths. “More like a corset. Get me something bigger.”

“No!” He swats my hands away when I start to unbutton the vest. “It’s perfect! It’s gorgeous!”

“It’s tight!”

“Oh for God’s sake, women have been wearing uncomfortable clothing since time immemorial to make you dumb lugs happy and you’re complaining about a tight vest? Here’s an idea: Take off your T-shirt and wear the vest by itself!”

I’m about to rip the damn thing off my body when from behind me I hear a low whistle. When I turn around, Grace, Kat, and Chloe are standing there, eyeing me up and down.

Kat is staring at my arms. “Interesting tats.”

Chloe is staring at my face. “Where’s your goatee?”

Grace—because of course, she’s Grace—is staring at my crotch. “Holy Christmas miracle. You should always wear jeans, Barney.” She whistles again. “The front is even better than the back. And that vest is amazing.”

Kenji gives my arm a playful shove. “Told you.”

“Ladies.” I spread my arms and slowly spin around. “You like?”

Kat fans herself, Chloe’s cheeks turn pink, and Grace says, “Rawr. My uterus just exploded.”

“Oh please, your uterus explodes five times every day before lunch,” scoffs Kat.

Unfazed, Grace shrugs. “True. It’s highly sensitive to estrogen surges.”

Our gazes catch and hold. She looks away before I do, but not before a pang of desire twists my gut.

I ignore it, like always. She belongs to Brody. Even if she didn’t, I’m so used to being on my own, I’d f**k things up between us before they could get started.

A man accustomed to living alone most of his adult life isn’t what you’d call good boyfriend material. Lone wolves forget how to be in a pack. They grow callouses over their loneliness. They grow to like their isolation.

They grow hard.

“Hey! Space cadet! You’re zoning out again!” Kenji throws his arms in the air. “What is wrong with you today?”

“Leave the poor man alone,” says Grace, avoiding my eyes. “He’s probably just trying to figure out what awful past decisions led him to this moment, having a star-spangled psychopath screeching in his face.”

Kenji glares at her. “We don’t screech, lovey. We are far too fabulous to screech.”

A voice from behind me drawls, “I dunno ’bout that, my friend. Heard you make a whole lotta noises on the ear-piercing end of the sound spectrum.”

“This from a man who can sing a high C until the windows shatter,” replies Kenji with a sniff. “Be gone, peasant.”

Walking around me, Nico chuckles. He slings an arm over Kat’s shoulders. She beams up at him, leaning into his side. He kisses her forehead, then jerks his chin in my direction. “Cool vest, Barney.”

Kenji slaps me on my biceps. “See! Even Nico likes it!”