Page 5 of Daddy Enforcer
“Different how?” I counter.
“Just different,” Billie fires back, evidently not wanting to give any more away.
“Yup. You’ve definitely grown up dealing with the press,” I chuckle, forcing a tiny little smile out of Billie as he looks away once more. “You’re a smart cookie. But any information you can give me will be to your benefit. I’m hopeful that this will be an easy assignment, a precaution more than anything. But if the shit does hit the fan, the more intel I have, the better. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Billie replies, droll and sarcastic.
Something tells me that for every single step forward I take with this boy, there might be two steps going backward right after. But I can handle that. I’ve dealt with some of the most devious drug lords alive, I’ve gone head to head with international intelligence agencies, and I’ve always come out on top—a chart-topping singer isn’t going to be able to outmaneuver me for long.
“Are we nearly there yet?” Billie says, kicking his feet and bumping them onto the passenger seat in front of him. “I’m bored.”
“Not too long,” I reply. “Try and enjoy the scenery.”
I watch as Billie rolls his eyes dismissively. I don’t know if it’s because of all the Little-talk earlier back at the hotel with Cole and the guys, but my Daddy instincts are telling me that I could be dealing with a Little here…
Billie’s got sass by the bucket-load, he’s bratty too. But there’s a sweetness, a desire to be occupied, a sense of fun desperate to be let loose… I can feel it all right there in him.
I’ve been wrong about things like this before. At times, I’ve seen boys and been convinced that they were Littles only to be disappointed later down the line. But Billie… damn, I feel it in him. But as much as I suspect he might be a Little, I’m not as remotely convinced that the boy realizes it himself.
Focus, man.
Little or not, it’s irrelevant.
This is work.
And in perfect timing, the steep incline gets rockier and narrower, forcing me to focus my driving skills and ensure that I get my client up to the safest and most secure cabin imaginable.
Having had a quick look over the intel that Mr. G sent earlier, I know that we’ll have a secure perimeter, be able to spot threats from a long way off and have a super-charged snow-ski out back to get us out of there in an emergency situation—which, hopefully, won’t arise.
“Okay, here we are,” I say, winding the truck around one final corner before pulling up on flat ground to the small but pretty cabin. “It’s not the Five Seasons, but it’s home for now.”
I park the truck and turn the engine off.
In many ways, this is the kind of place I’d actually pay to come to for a vacation. No noisy neighbors, no parties, and no bullshit to contend with from the outside world—now that’s perfect for a man like me.
But if Billie’s face is anything to go by, I’m ready to bet that he sees things from a very different angle indeed…
Chapter 3
Billie
Wow.
Really?
I mean… Trent really was skimping with the budget for this place.
I’m still fuming as I step out of Max’s beat-up truck, my boots crunching into the snow outside this dreary mountain cabin.
The air bites at my cheeks, and I pull my too-thin jacket tighter, glaring at the wooden shack that’s apparently my new home.
This isnotthe glittering world of stadiums and VIP lounges I’m used to. Far from it, in fact…
No stage lights, no screaming fans, just a whole lot of nothing surrounded by trees and snow. And Max—Mr. Too Cool For School with his blue eyes and stupidly perfect jaw—is already acting like he owns me, laying down rules like I’m some kid instead of Billie B, global pop sensation.
“Stay close,” Max says, his gruff voice cutting through the chilly air as he grabs my bag from the backseat—not to carry it for me,of course, but to toss it at my feet. “No wandering off. No phone calls. No internet. You follow my lead, got it?”
I roll my eyes so hard I’m surprised they don’t fall out.
