Page 46 of Papa's Bébé
Matthieu glanced over at him. He was around Maya’s age with dark hair and eyes. And a neatly trimmed moustache. He was smirking as he offered that.
And Maya actually shuddered before her head rose and she glared at the guy.
“Aww. Thanks so much. But the day I need your help, Vince, will be the day that hell freezes over.”
“Maya!” Mrs. Monsoon said. “That’s so rude! Apologize immediately!”
Was this woman for real? Why was she talking to Maya like she was a child?
Wait . . . Vince. Wasn’t that the cop that Reeves had said was harassing Maya the other day?
Matthieu took another look at him. Yeah, he could see it. The guy stunk of overconfidence and self-importance.
“It’s all right, Mrs. M,” Vince said with a slimy smile. “I’m used to Maya’s ways.”
Maya glared at him. Matthieu couldn’t believe this was the same woman that he’d seen on the steps of Callahan Security the yesterday. Then she’d barely been able to get a word out. She’d been shy and quiet.
Almost sad.
Right now she was full of sass and vinegar.
She was . . . magnificent.
Matthieu shared a look with Ink, who was frowning. Matthieu wasn’t sure what the other man was thinking.
The Police Chief stood as he saw them. “Good, good, you’re here. Come and meet Maya. Don’t mind her and Vince. They’re always like this. They’re very close.”
“We’re not . . .” Maya’s words died off as her shocked gaze hit his. “Oh shit.”
The last two words were a whisper, and her gaze immediately shifted away from him to Ink.
And that’s where it stayed.
Oh.
He did not like that. At all.
He wanted to demand that her gaze come back to him and stay on him. Matthieu had never felt possessive over a woman before.
But right now, he wanted to gather Maya close and demand that no one look at her. And that she only see him.
This could be a problem.
“Please tell me you’re my bodyguard,” she said to Ink desperately.
“Maya!” her father said, sounding shocked.
“I cannot believe how rude you are being,” Kathryn gasped. “I’m so sorry. This isn’t how she usually acts.”
“Yes, it is,” one of the other men said.
“This is always how she is, Mother,” another added. “Best they know what they’re getting into.”
“Well . . . I . . . this is . . .” Mrs. Monsoon actually stumbled over her words.
He was willing to bet that didn’t happen often.
“Actually, I’m Tracey Callahan.” Ink held out his hand to her.
