Not a chance married life was better than that. None. Zilch. Zippo.
Back in check, Chase stood awkwardly to the side, watching as Logan leaned down and whispered something in Natalie’s ear. Whatever the man said had not only made his wife giggle like a schoolgirl…it also made her blush.
You may want to check those odds again, Boyer. ’Cause those two sure seem a lot happier now than they did when they were still single.
“So.” Chase clapped his hands together loudly with a smile. “I’m here, and I’ve got two good hands, so you might as well put me to work.”
Please, for the love of God, give me something else to focus on besides a future I’m not even sure I really want.
Thankfully, Natalie came through for him. Just like always.
“I’m almost finished here, but you might check with Sloane,” the sweet woman offered. “The last time I saw her she was headed inside to talk to the shelter’s chef about something related to tonight’s dinner.”
Shit. I forgot about tonight.
A long, deep groan of dread did its damnedest to escape. There were very few things in life Chase truly hated. One of those was wearing a tux. But, since he loved Nat like a sister, he kept himself in check and his expression carefully schooled.
“Kitchen, it is.” He side-stepped Logan and began walking in that direction. He stopped mid-stride when Natalie hollered after him.
“Wait! Do you remember where it is?”
He’d been here once before, back when he and his team had been working a related case. It had been a few months, but he was fairly certain he remembered the building’s layout.
Refrigerator. Stove. Sink. How hard can it be?
“It’s a kitchen, Nat.” Chase shot her a quick smirk from over his shoulder. “Pretty sure I’ll know it when I see it.”
He was also pretty sure Logan had just called him a smartass, but the guy’s muttered comment was low, and Chase was still walking away. It was all good, though.
Hewasa smartass.
Reaching the building’s side entrance, Chase opened the steel security door and stepped inside. From what he knew of the place, the shelter’s exterior doors were typically kept locked at all times. An added level of security for the building’s occupants.
Today was a rare exception.
That wasn’t to say the property had been left in a fully vulnerable state. A black wrought-iron fence surrounded the entire perimeter, and entering through the gate required a personalized code.
If an employee or volunteer made it into the parking lot and up to the building’s main entrance, they still had to punch in their code again to enter the building from the door around back.
All visitors went through the building’s front entrance and were buzzed in only after prior approval from Sloane.
Protecting those inside these walls was Liberty House’s number one priority. That was abundantly clear. So far, from what Chase had seen, Sloane and her people were doing a damn fine job.
He paused a moment to get his bearings. If memory served him correctly, the hallway he’d just stepped into would lead him to the building’s main entrance. From there, all he’d have to do is take a right at the elevators, and voila!
His booted feet began to move once more, carrying him further down the hall. A low hum of conversation traveled through the air, and Chase was only feet away from reaching the end when a large man suddenly appeared.
Tall. Built. Tatted arms, short, salt-and-pepper hair, and a matching beard. The well-trimmed facial hair covered a noticeably square jaw, and the man’s holstered gun looked ready for action.
Ah, the Marine.
“Who the hell are you?” The other man stopped dead in his tracks, effectively blocking Chase’s path. Crossing his arms, a set of massive biceps threatened to rip straight through the guy’s short sleeves.
“Chase Boyer.” He offered his hand in a friendly gesture. “I’m with Eagle’s Nest Securities. You must be Hank. I heard Sloane hired a Marine to keep an eye on the place. I’m gonna take a wild guess—That’s you?”
A steely blue gaze fell onto his hand, but good ol’ Hank—or whoever he was—made no move to take it. Instead, those suspicious eyes lifted back up to Chase’s as the guy asked, “You got some ID?”
Thorough and untrusting. Both awesome qualities to have in a bodyguard.