Maya Banks - Sweet Possession

“ Y ou’re out of your goddamn mind!”

Pop Malone scowled at his son, Connor. “Watch your mouth. I can still wipe the floor with your scrawny ass.”

Connor wiped his hand over his short hair and clamped down on the top in an effort to pull it out. Nathan Tucker had the right idea by shaving his head. It was something Connor was going to have to look into if he kept getting bombs dropped on him.

“Pop,” Connor said in exasperation. “We install security systems. Sophisticated, state-of-the-art computer monitoring equipment. We do consulting. We evaluate security for other people. We are not a goddamn bodyguard service.”

Pop huffed, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against his adopted daughter’s desk. Faith stared wide-eyed at her father and brother but didn’t say a word. She was too glued to the conversation.

“If you’d stop your yammering for two seconds, I’d explain why you’re perfect for this job.”

“Oh boy,” Connor muttered. “I can’t wait to hear this. I’d better sit down for it.”

He flopped into one of the chairs in front of Faith’s desk and waited for his father’s latest harebrained scheme. Not that his father wasn’t a smart man. He was one of the most intelligent and cunning men Connor knew. It was the cunning part that bothered the hell out of him right now. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew he was fucked. And it looked like he was about to find out.

“Phillip Armstrong is a longtime friend. We go way back. Served together in the marines. He’s a big-shot record executive now and he has a big-name artist on his label.”

“What’s the name?” Faith piped in.

“Lyric Jones.”

Faith frowned.

“What’s the frown for?” Connor demanded. “What do you know?”

“You’ve never heard of her?” Faith asked.

“Does she sing country music?”

Faith chuckled and shook her head.

“Then I rest my case. So why the frown?”

“She’s a bit of a . . .”

“She’s difficult,” Pop said with no preamble. “But you’ve dealt with difficult before. She won’t be a problem for you.”

“Why is she my problem at all?”

“Because most of her security detail was fired. What was left quit. She has two bodyguards that are as useless as tits on a boar hog.”

“And I’m supposed to fix this?”

“Phillip is scrambling to hire a replacement firm. One better than the last since they sucked ass. His words, not mine. She only has one more show and then she’s going to be sort of on vacation here in Houston.”

Faith lifted an eyebrow. “Why the hell would she willingly vacation in Houston? I mean, a girl with that kind of money ought to go to Paris. Or Italy. Maybe a beach house in the Caribbean.”

“I said sort of because she’s doing a show at the Houston Livestock and Rodeo but she’ll be here a total of two weeks. She also has some signing and fan meet-and-greet at one of the downtown music stores.”

“Oh, I get it,” Connor said as he pushed himself forward in his seat. “What they want is a babysitter. They want someone to sit on her so she’ll be good for two weeks.”

Pop had the grace to look abashed. “Well, yes and no.”

Connor made a rude noise. “Why the hell are you asking me? There are three other guys in this office all capable of doing this job.”

Faith made a show of blowing on her nails and whistled softly.

“Because everyone is either married or getting goddamned married and you’re the only single guy left. If I try to send one of the other guys to spend twenty-four/seven with a gorgeous pop star, I’ll have three pissed-off women on my ass. No, thanks. No offense, Connor, but you have nothing on the girls. I’ll take my chances with you.”

Faith smiled sweetly in her brother’s direction.

“Don’t think I won’t get you for this,” Connor muttered at Faith.

“Look, at least fly out to L.A., catch her last show, introduce yourself, see how it goes. What can it hurt? I think you’ll find it’s not as bad as you think. You’ll spend two weeks with her here keeping her out of trouble and keeping her safe.”

“Just how unsafe is she?”

“Oh, the usual celebrity shit, I’m sure. Everyone wants a piece of her. Without adequate security, it could get dangerous. Phillip is going to get a local firm to do the peripheral security but he wants someone he can trust next to her until he can go through and interview larger firms that will handle her security on the road. He’s worried, and Phillip doesn’t worry about much.”

“Why the hell don’t they just cancel the rodeo appearance, stash her somewhere private for two weeks and get their shit together for when she goes back on the road?”

“You’re asking me?” Pop said in irritation. “When has show business ever made any goddamn sense? These people don’t think with their brains. They think with their checkbooks and use dollar signs as their guides. It’s your job to be their brains for two weeks.”

Connor groaned. “Difficult and brainless. I can hardly wait.”

The door to Faith’s office opened and Angelina Moyano poked her head through. When she saw the two men, she hesitated. “Am I interrupting anything?”

Connor grinned and motioned her in. “Of course not. How are you, sweetie?”

Angelina walked in, graceful and petite despite her bulging abdomen. Most women her size would be down to a waddle by now, but she still moved with ease.

She smiled at Connor. “I’m good. How are you?” She bent down to hug him tight and he put his hand on her belly.

“Is Miss Priss moving around today?”

“Stop calling her that,” Angelina said in exasperation. “Her name is Nia. Hi, Pop,” she said as she brushed a kiss over the older man’s jaw.

“Hey yourself, Angel. Where’s Micah? Shouldn’t he be working? For that matter, where the hell is Nathan? And Gray? Are we the only people working?”

Connor and Faith exchanged eye rolls. Pop was on his way to working himself into a dither.

“I came by to get Faith. Julie offered me a pregnancy massage and Faith is going to go hold my hand.”

“More like get her own massage,” Connor muttered. “You girls don’t fool me one bit. I’ll go hold your damn hand and then maybe Julie will massage me too.”

“Find your own woman’s hand to hold,” Micah Hudson growled from the doorway.

Pop looked up and scowled. “It’s about time you decided to show up. What is this, come to work late day?”

Micah ignored Pop. All his attention was on the curvy Latina woman heavily pregnant with his child. It amused Connor to no end to see Micah so gobsmacked over a woman. Not that he didn’t love women as a rule, but there was nothing casual or flirty about Micah’s relationship with Angelina. The poor boy was whipped and it was pretty pathetic to watch.

“How sure is Julie that a pregnancy massage is good for the baby?” Micah asked.

Angelina paused and turned with one hand on her hip. “I think the point is that it’s good for the mother.”

“But will it hurt the baby?”

Angelina smiled. “You worry too much, Micah. Go do some work so Faith and I can go have some girly time. We’re going to be late, and Damon expects Serena to be home by noon.”

“Or what?” Connor murmured. He always wondered what the hell went on in Damon and Serena’s marriage. Of all the people who worked for Pop, Connor was the furthest out of the loop when it came to Damon Roche. From what he’d gleaned the man was a control freak and he kept Serena under his thumb.