Page 3 of Knot Going Down
When her score showed up on the board, she squealed loud enough for me to hear it all the way over here. Now, she flings herself at a man, and a low growl rattles my chest. She told me she has a brother, and I hope to hell that’s him. If this guy doesanything more than hug her, he’ll meet the back end of my fist. I don’t care if I’m supposed to be here in an official capacity. This is a job, but I’m a jealous man. Always have been. It’s part of the reason I don’t want a pack.
Pushing past the memories, I clear my throat and force myself to look away, but my gaze immediately drifts back to the pretty sandy-haired beta who’s captured my full attention. She pulls out the hair tie from her wet hair, bends over, and shakes her short, soft waves, wiggling her ass in the process. She probably doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. A cute, natural little movement, not at all intended to entice, but damn does it.
The announcer calls the winners, and Emily pops up, grabbing her friend’s hand.
Silver. My girl won silver! I’m gonna spoil her rotten and show her exactly how proud of her I am.
Despite her repeatedly calling this a fling, I’m not letting her go anytime soon. Somehow, I’ve got to get her to see this as something that can last. Something real.
Every time she says this is a temporary, just-for-the-Olympics thing something in me flinches. I don’t know if she’s afraid, guarded, or just playing it safe, but I see the way her eyes search for me when she thinks I’m not looking. I see the blush that climbs her neck when we touch. She’s not immune to this. Tous.
She’s scared. Maybe I am too.
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way.
Her gaze meets mine across the space, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. I flick my tongue along my bottom lip, a movement she follows with her eyes. Shit, no one’s affected me the way she does since Kyle.
Nearly followed him to his grave.There are days when I can’t get that thought out of my head. Can’t purge the memory of the night he died.
The day we lost Kyle split my life in two—before and after. Before him, I was drifting. After him, I was angry. Directionless. It took years to get that purpose back.
I never expectedherto show up and reroute everything again.
Finding someone wasn’t a priority for me. I didn’t go on dates and declined offers for one-night stands. I wasn’t on the apps or letting my friends set me up. I was the job. Iammy job.
But right now, all I see is her—the fluorescent lights catching the gold in her wet hair, her laugh loud and infectious, like champagne fizzing up and over. She’s incandescent. Untouchable. And yet… I’ve touched her. I’ve tasted her lips. That memory burns like whiskey under my ribs, and I know I’m already addicted.
Emily breaks eye contact by pulling a Team USA sweatshirt over her head right as my phone rings.
“Yeah?” I answer.
“Good, I caught you.” My director, Curtis Woods, says with his voice as blunt as a brick. “Glenn Plansky has been spotted near the Olympic village.”
And just like that, reality slams back into me. The real world, where women like Emily get hurt because men like Plansky don’t play by the rules. Where I’ve got one job: to keep people safe. Especially the ones I care about.
Glenn Plansky is bad news and has been sitting pretty in the underground world for far too long.
I blink. “What the hell is he doing in Paris?”
The man has a known sports gambling side business in addition to his drug deals, but I wouldn’t have expected him to come to Paris himself.
“That’s whatyou’resupposed to figure out, Declan. I don’t pay you to ask questions.”
I turn slightly, shielding my face from Emily’s line of sight. She’s laughing with her teammates, cheeks pink from adrenaline and joy, awaiting the ceremony to lay that hard-earned silver medal around her neck.
“Everyone and their brother is in Paris. Cops and cameras and press,” Curtis huffs into the phone.
“He’s smart,” I say. “He wouldn’t be here unless he’s planning something big.”
“Or desperate. We got a sighting near the Olympic Village. I want eyes on him now.”
Shit.“I’ve got tabs on the diving event for a little longer. I was told?—”
“Yeah? And I was told I’d have an ulcer by now, but guess what? Still standing.” He sighs, like he’s holding a cigar he can’t light. “Look, I’m not trying to ruin your little baguette vacation. But this is the kind of bust that gets you promoted. You want my chair someday? Earn it.”
If anyone needs a baguette vacation, it’s Curtis and his future ulcer. “I didn’t say I wanted your chair.”
“Good. Makes it easier to give it to someone who’s hungry.”
