Page 32 of Direct Action

Holding herself separate and uncomfortable.

I didn’t like that shit one bit, but I couldn’t go to her without causing her more embarrassment. I liked that even less. And after we got done with this conversation and I kicked my friends out, I’d tell her exactly what I thought about her coming out of my bedroom after what we shared and not coming right to me. She had nothing to be embarrassed about, though I understood why she did, and that was part of what we were going to go over.

These men might’ve been her bosses when she was at the Plank, but here, in my house, they absolutely were not.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of black lace next to the front door. Obviously Chloe hadn’t seen her panties on the tiled entryway floor or she would’ve run screaming from the room. But there was zero chance the guys hadn’t seen them on their way in.

Maybe with another woman I would’ve given Gavin a signal to get rid of them. But the thought of another man touching Chloe’s panties made me murderous.

Instead of going directly to her like I’d intended, I moved around the opposite side of the couch and skirted the coffee table. All the while Chloe tracked my movements until Gavin distracted her.

Thank fuck.

“How’s your car?”

“Ugh,” she groaned. “Hopefully not as bad as it looked. It happened on Seacoast in front of the Pelican, so I was barely going twenty, but still my front end is toast.”

I swiped her panties up, shoved them into my pocket, and rejoined the conversation. “Jackass was in her face when I got there.”

Fallon did another top-to-toe and noted, “I don’t see blood.”

“Cops showed up before I could deliver the lesson.”

“Ah.”

Chloe’s gaze was ping-ponging between me and Fallon but paused on me to ask, “Lesson?”

Was she serious? A man who had a foot and at least fifty pounds on her was in her face shouting. Though even if he was her size, that shit was not on.

“Baby, he was in your face. But just to say, he could’ve been ten feet away from you and he’d still be eating his teeth, if he called you a bitch one more time.”

Her shoulders went tense, but her face had gone soft. I had no idea how to read her reaction. However, her reaction was a good reminder—she didn’t know me.

She knew what all the women at work knew—I was the nice boss. When they wanted something, they came to me because they knew I’d talk the others into getting it for them—case in point, a tricked-out locker room that doubled as a break room. I minded my manners around the women and, as much as I could, curbed my Sailor’s mouth. I was far from a saint, but they dealt with enough creepy assholes that I made sure all they got from me was respect.

Which meant Chloe had largely the wrong impression of me. Or not wrong, just skewed, because she’d never seen the real me.

That was until about an hour ago, when I decided I was done pretending there wasn’t something between us and that something was beyond wanting to fuck each other’s brains out.

“Here you go, Chloe,” Fallon said, handing her a bottle of water. “Let’s take a seat.”

Without waiting for her response, he used her elbow to guide Chloe to the couch. “And to answer your earlier question, Jack drove Poppy home because she’s upset her friend’s missing.”

Chloe gingerly sat, pinned her knees closed, and shifted her knees in a way that no matter where the others sat, they’d be angled away.

I didn’t need a reminder that Chloe’s panties were in my pocket, but damn if that served as one.

But now was not the time.

Now it was time to see about getting Chloe as far away from the Vault as I could. Because one thing I knew for certain—Chloe and Poppy were tight. Thick as thieves at work, and I knew from overhearing stories they spent a lot of time together outside of it. If I could talk Chloe around, she’d do the work and get Poppy to follow.

Chapter Eleven

Okay.

So.

This was happening.