Page 16 of Craving

He looked down at his crotch and scowled. “Down, boy.”

Work was largely uneventful, and Marlon found himself wondering how Camilla was dealing with the window repair. Then he shook himself and turned back to the computer in front of him. Letters and numbers blurred together on the screen until he lifted the glasses he used for concentration tasks and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Here,” Cormac said, placing a coffee down on Marlon’s desk. “You look like you need it.”

The cup had swooping, cursive lettering on it that informed him it had come from The Sweetest Thing. He stared at the letters, then up at his business partner. “You went to Camilla’s bakery this morning?”

Cormac had drifted over to his desk, and he glanced over his shoulder with raised eyebrows. “That a problem?”

“No.” Marlon took a sip, willing his shoulders to stay relaxed. “How’d the window look?”

“Like it was made of plywood. Hey, did you get the email about the Winter Festival gig? They want to up the security from five p.m. until close every evening. We’ll have to call Jace and Kyle to see if they’re available. I’ll check the roster to see who else is free.”

The Winter Festival happened every year on the first weekend of December in Stirling. It was one last hurrah before the cold set in for winter, and Elite Security had been providing security at the event for the past three years. It was one of their biggest contracts of the year, but the organizers were scatterbrained. Planning always took up way more time than it should.

Marlon glanced back at his computer. “Yeah. Already called them. I’ve got three of the six slots filled, but we might need to contract out the rest. I’m putting together a proposal for security cameras for the duration of the event, especially in the beer tents and the main stage.” He took another sip. “So the repairs hadn’t started on the window?”

Cormac stared at his screen. “What window?”

“At the bakery.”

The office chair squeaked as Cormac rolled back from his desk, braiding his fingers together behind his head. He was a serious, solemn man, but there was a gleam in his eyes as he watched Marlon. “Why do you care?”

“Just want to see when we can start installing the security system I was talking about yesterday,” Marlon grated, but they both knew it was a lie.

“Hmm.” Cormac watched him. “You sure it has nothing to do with your new roommate? What price did you quote her for the new system?”

“It’s covered,” Marlon answered, taking another deep draught of his coffee. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I always worry about our bottom line.”

Marlon glared, but he knew it was true. He and Cormac had started this company thirteen years ago, and it wouldn’t have been half as successful if Cormac hadn’t been involved. But Marlon didn’t want to get the third-degree grilling he deserved right now, because the truth was, he would pay for Camilla’s new security system himself.

He just couldn’t figure out why he was doing it in the first place.

Okay, that was a lie. He knew exactly why he was doing it: because Camilla tugged on every protective instinct, and he couldn’t stand the thought of her heading to work at five or six o’clock in the morning without some kind of security system to keep her safe. If Marlon had his way, he’d be driving her to work and checking the premises himself.

But that was crazy. He knew it was crazy. He wouldn’t indulge his crazy urges.

Cormac shrugged and rolled back toward his desk. “Whatever. If you’ve got the Winter Fest covered, I’ll start on the quotes for the Goodhew wedding. After what happened this spring, they want their wedding buttoned up tight. You still available to oversee the crew that day?”

Marlon nodded. “Yeah, all good.” He turned back to his computer. He worked, drank coffee, and when he couldn’t stand it any longer, he stalked to the surveillance room where their tech wizard Elton was busy managing two dozen screens. Marlon knocked on the doorframe. “You got a minute?”

Elton tapped on his keyboard and didn’t look over at Marlon when he said, “Yeah. What’s up?”

“Need a new system over at the bakery on Hemlock Drive.”

Elton spun around in his chair and gave Marlon a wide smile. “Is this for your new girlfriend?” he asked, like he was a teenage boy and not an ex-Army vet.

Marlon scowled. “It’s for a client.”

“A client who lives with you.” Elton wiggled his eyebrows. He had to be the most annoying person Marlon had ever met. Elton was lucky he was a genius with technology, because he was a monumental pain in the ass.

Marlon let those thoughts show in a deep scowl. “How the hell do you know about that?”

Elton just laughed and cracked his knuckles, turning back to his computer. “I have my ways. What are you thinking, boss? The works? Alarm, cameras, audio, 24/7 coverage? We setting it up tonight? Did she give you the keys? I’m guessing you’ll want to put in a new touchpad lock, right? Silent alarm or no?”

Marlon paused.

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