Page 75 of Full Mountie

“We got distracted by real life stuff.”

“Are they still up?”

He makes a face. “No.”

“Okay, here’s the deal. You and me and Gavin can do a private thing with the hockey team.Notin your dungeon.Notanything kink related. It has nothing to do with who is involved and everything to do with…” I trail off. A bunch of shit Max doesn’t have security clearance for. “Anything can be recorded. Anywhere. We scan 24 Sussex constantly, but anywhere else is just too risky. Not to mention he’s constantly aware of how things look.”

“Then we’ll bring the party to him.”

“No strippers.”

“Fine.”

“No hookers.”

“Of course.”

“No women paid for any reason.”

“So the pretty little clown I hired to do face painting?”

“Max.”

“I got it. Beer and pizza and poker—all proceeds to charity. Is that square enough for you?”

“That sounds great.”

“You know what you need, Lachlan?”

I can’t wait to hear this one. “What?”

“A sweet little sub to turn that frown upside down.”

Ha. I grin and point to the door. “Feel free to let yourself out.”

“I’m telling you, man. You need to find a woman. You’re wound way too tight.”

“That’s because someone interrupted my workout, the only hour of today I was going to have to myself. I got here at five, picked your best friend up at six, and I’ll be eating dinner right here, too. I’m doing just fine, considering.”

He gives me a curious look. “What’s going on?”

Do I havebanged two people all weekend longwritten on my forehead? “I just told you.”

“I know, but I was mostly projecting from the last year of grumpiness. You’re actually agreeable today.” He snaps his fingers. “You finally got over your hang-up about Beth. Yeah? Are you two…”

“Get out.”

“That’s a yes.” He bites his lip as he punches his fist against his hand. “I knew it. Good for you guys.”

Shit. “Stop. No. Beth…” I take a deep breath. I suck at this. “She doesn’t want anyone to know. We’re dating. Yes. We’re not making a big deal about it. And she freaked out when I mentioned to Gavin that we had dinner together. So keep it under your hat.”

“Lips sealed.”

He takes his leave, finally, thankfully, and I wait until the door clicks shut behind him before I groan and pitch the hockey puck stress thingy-ma-jiggy from desk across the room.

Fuck.

27

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