Calculated Risk (Blackbridge Security 5)

“Oh, you naughty girl,” he mutters before walking toward his office.

“I need that profile information,” Deacon calls to his back.

Wren doesn’t say a word before closing himself into his office.

Flynn and Jude chuckle when Deacon shakes his head.

“And why are you drinking double espresso this morning?” I ask my boss when he hits the button on the machine. “Anna still not sleeping well?”

“She’s pregnant,” he replies as if that’s the answer to everything. “But only for a couple more months.”

“You won’t get much sleep when the baby gets here either,” Jude says.

I turn to stare at him.

“What? I read a lot.”

“Baby books?” Deacon asks.

“You left one out on the table a couple of weeks ago. Did you know the vagina stretches to—”

“We’re not having a conversation about my wife’s vagina.”

“Not just Anna’s, all women,” Jude clarifies. “The vagina is a wonderful machine.”

“Agreed,” Flynn says with a wide smile.

“Perineal massage prior to birth can help prevent tearing. Are you—?”

“Not talking about this with you,” Deacon interrupts.

“You’re a big guy, man. Can you imagine the size of child she’s going to have?” Jude prods, his interest more medical than anything else. “Her—”

“Another word and I’m going to make you help Quinten with the classes,” Deacon threatens.

“I’m just saying. All you have to do is rub her—”

“That’s it,” Deacon snaps.

Flynn tries to hide his laugh behind his fist, but he fails miserably.

“Next class. I want you at the gun range.”

I fist pump the air. “Dumbass.”

“But—”

“Thursday,” Deacon grumbles as he starts to walk away. “Keep talking and I’ll make you take them over completely.”

I just barely contain a smile as I look over at my best friend. “Class starts at seven sharp. Don’t be late.”

“I was just trying to be informative. Flynn, wouldn’t you want to know if—”

“I have less control than Deacon, so don’t even mention Remi’s parts.”

“Jesus Christ, you guys are Neanderthals!” Jude complains.

“Don’t think about his—”

“You either!” Flynn growls with an angry finger pointed in my direction. “If you guys had a woman, you’d understand. Until that happens, just stick to the advice that talking about another man’s woman is always a bad idea.”

“That went well,” I tell my friend as Flynn stands up and walks away. “See you Thursday.”

I’m grinning all the way back to my office. Having a little help, or just another dose of testosterone during class can only help, right?

Chapter 8

Hayden

“Are you excited?” I look toward the woman sitting at the table in front of me. “I really thought we’d get to shoot the first class. I hate that we’ve had to wait until the third.”

I give her a weak grin, wondering if she’s going to bounce out of her seat with her eagerness.

“I’m Gayle,” she continues when I don’t give a verbal response.

“Hayden,” I say out of courtesy when inwardly I’m cursing Parker for not being here yet.

The door to the classroom opens, and I can’t help the frown on my face when I see that it’s the instructor rather than Parker. His mouth forms a flat line when he sees me, and I don’t know if it’s because I’ve displayed my own disappointment at it not being my friend or if the man really just doesn’t like me. I could tell him that he’s the one who singled me out that first class and made us leave, but that would only put me on the spot once again. I hate being the center of attention. It’s why I don’t throw too big of a fit when Parker wants to hang out in public. She draws the attention away from me.

“We’re going to start today with learning how to load and unload a magazine,” Quinten says the second he’s in position at the front of the classroom.

“Aren’t we shooting today?” Gayle asks, disappointment evident in her tone.

“Can’t shoot without ammunition,” he responds. “Magazine size varies. Some only carry a handful of bullets, others can accommodate seventeen or more.”

I watch his hands, hating that Parker’s conversation about them last week drifts into my head. Quinten holds up each piece as he explains in detail how they work.

“Brand-new magazines are going to be tighter and may hurt your fingers when loading. They get looser the more they’re used.”

Gayle snorts, obviously taking what he said in a nasty way. Quinten doesn’t miss a beat.

“The guys up front can point you to a magazine loader once you decide to buy your own firearm. They’ll save the tips of your fingers from pain.”

“Sorry I’m late,” Parker says as she slides into the seat next to me.

I didn’t even hear the classroom door open, and that says a lot about my level of focus on what’s going on in the front of the room.

“I can’t stay long.”

I frown. She’s the one who wanted to do this class in the first place, and now she’s bailing on me?