Controlled Burn (Blackbridge Security 8) - Page 57

“You woke her up,” I say in a low voice, explaining away where his mind went.

“We have a job,” he says.

“I have to take her to get her kids.” I look down at my watch. “It’s less than half an hour before they’re released from school for the day.”

Deacon frowns.

“I can go get them on my own,” Kendall offers.

Deacon and I both look at her, letting her know that’s not a good idea. Deacon wouldn’t force her to go with someone from the office, but she’s not going to get as lucky with me.

“I think it’s best if someone goes with you,” I tell her, hoping she doesn’t get all riled up.

It would only turn me on, and I don’t think Deacon would be too impressed if I spring an erection with him nearby.

“You have to work,” she says, standing from the sofa and running her hands down the front of her to straighten her clothes. “I’ll be fine.”

“Wren is available,” Deacon offers.

Kendall looks between the two of us before quickly nodding in agreement.

Deacon looks between the two of us again. “Five minutes.”

He walks away, and I catch Kendall before she can follow him out of the room. She blinks up at me, her eyes still tired despite her nap. There are a million things I can say, each one as terrifying as the next, so I don’t say a word. I simply lower my mouth down to hers and kiss her lips.

The kiss is soft and sweet, full of promises I don’t know if I’ll ever have the courage to say out loud, and it ends too quickly. She pats my chest, kisses my cheek, and walks away.

I spend the next couple of minutes fighting an erection before I’m able to meet Deacon in the breakroom. By the time I get there, Wren and Kendall are gone.

“Wren is going to bring them back here, so don’t worry.”

I nod at him, walking toward the elevator.

***

“A residence?” I ask as we pull up in front of an old rundown house. From the passenger seat, I peer up at the house in desperate need of a lot of work.

“It all checks out,” Deacon says as he shifts the truck into park. “Financials and all.”

Blackbridge is the best at what they do. If we take a job, it’s because there’s no one else around as capable as we are. It also means Deacon is able to charge a mint for every single call we get.

“You’re sure?” I verify, because this house doesn’t look like it belongs to someone we’d normally work with.

“Yep. It belongs to some rich social media guy. People swear the house is haunted, so he bought it for pennies on the dollar and plans to film some YouTube series in it or something.”

“And you brought me along to fight off ghosts?”

I don’t believe in ghosts, so it doesn’t bother me, but I’d much rather be in the truck with Kendall going to pick up the kids. Man, has my life changed from not even considering kids to wanting to be around them.

“He found an old safe in the basement. Can’t get into it. That’s why you’re here, dummy.”

“Wait,” I say, racking my brain for why all of this sounds so familiar. “This job is for Mystery Man Medano?”

Deacon sighs, rolling his eyes and shaking his head at the same time. “Not you, too.”

“Me too what?”

“Anna is obsessed with watching this guy’s YouTube station. Apparently, you are too.”

“I’m not,” I say with an indignant huff. “If I’m obsessed with anything on YouTube, it’s gun range videos.”

That and you can never go wrong with funny cat videos, but I’d never tell my boss that.

“Good, because I don’t need you going all fangirl over this guy. I’m already going to catch shit for not letting Anna tag along. I’ll probably be sleeping on the couch for a week as it is.”

I chuckle, knowing better. Anna may be a little disappointed, but I doubt she’ll be mad enough to sleep alone. That punishes the both of them. As we walk up the front path, I can see why Deacon doesn’t want his wife here. The yard is overgrown, probably teeming with all sorts of things that bite. The front porch looks like it will collapse at any given point.

It’s just unsafe.

“Look,” Deacon says, pointing to the area immediately off to the right.

“Are those fake weeds?”

“Yep,” Deacon confirms. “Seems there might be a little staging going on here.”

“Imagine the disappointed subscribers,” I mutter, wanting to get this job done so I can get back to Kendall.

Deacon huffs. “Nothing on social media is exactly as it appears.”

I tighten my grip on my tool bag as Deacon bangs his fist on the warped screen door. I guess you can’t even call it a screen door as it doesn’t have any screen in it.

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