"A Boy Scout." I shake my head. Z might be better with people than Ronan is, but that doesn’t mean he wants to hang out in a club with others. He’s not big on the outdoors either unless it’s on his motorcycle.
"Give me the laptop."
Tova hands it over to him, and he takes it back over to his mountain of computers.
"Think Z bugged my phone?" Tova whispers to me.
"I didn't."
"He's got really good fucking hearing," I inform her. Creepy good. There’s no getting shit past him around here.
"Maybe Z is a robot." Tova snickers.
"Oh, I'm the robot." He levels a stare at me, making Tova laugh harder.
"Fair point."
“Don’t be a brat, little mouse.” I grab her sides.
“Ah! That tickles.” Tova wiggles all around.
“Maybe this is how I’ll get you to obey.”
“I give, I give.” Tova falls into me. I tug her close. When I glance back up, Z is watching us with an expression of longing. When he notices I’m watching him back, he turns his attention to Tova’s laptop.
“I’ll get you a new one.”
Tova shrugs. “I don’t use it much.”
Z opens the laptop, and a half second later, a voice comes from it. “Tova!” My wife jumps.
“Marks.” Tova tries to rush over to the laptop, but I keep my hold on her.
“Marks isn’t coming through the laptop.” Z smirks. “Plus, I’ve got it locked down.”
“Tova, are you okay?” The Marks girl ignores us, continuing to try to get to Tova.
“I’m fine,” Tova responds, her fingers digging into the front of my shirt.
“How can I know for sure? What’s your favorite paranormal read?”
“Bear shifter!” Tova fires back. Aren’t we supposed to be questioning Marks?
"Tova! I'm going to freaking murder you." My wife’s eyes go round like saucers, realizing I’m not going to like that Marks has threatened her.
"She didn't mean it!" Tova shifts her whole body in front of me, thinking I'm going to destroy the laptop. She thought right.
"I have been so freaking worried!" The girl keeps shouting through the computer.
"I'm sorry." Tova's shoulders drop.
"We are not fucking sorry," I bark right back. Maybe I should have growled instead. Now I have to be jealous of imaginary things. A fucking bear shifter.
"Oh, you shut up. You're the one who went to the strip club and made her cry, asshole!" Marks doesn’t hesitate to try to put me in my place.
“He was working.” My wife is quick to defend me. Tova brushes one of her curls out of her face, reminding me of her hair tie that I’m still wearing around my wrist. I reach down and snap it hard to try and keep my anger in check. Tova doesn’t care for when I’m mean to people she likes.
“Tova.” Marks sighs loudly.