Fast Burn (Body Armor #4)(82)
She mean-mugged them, these men who worked for her—men she now considered friends.
They smiled back.
Damn it, they were all so wonderful, how could she stay annoyed? She knew they meant well, but they didn’t understand Scott. He’d run off again if she didn’t follow his directions to the letter.
As if he’d read her mind, Justice said, “Aw, buck up, buttercup. We won’t chase off your brother.”
“We can be subtle,” Leese added. “You know that, right?”
“And in case it isn’t Scott,” Miles explained, “we need to be there. You’re not dumb, Sahara. If you looked at this objectively, you’d admit we’re right.”
Brand leaned forward, his forearms on the table, hands clasped together and expression serious. “It’ll be okay, babe.”
The stiffness left her spine. Her life had been so much less complicated before these big, lovable lugs had entered it, but she knew deep down she wouldn’t trade them for the world.
“Enoch,” she said to her hovering best friend and ace assistant, “would you mind getting pastries to go with the coffee?”
He smiled in relief, recognizing the request as a return to the norm. “I already did. I’ll see if they’ve arrived yet.” He left the room with a new jaunt to his stride.
“We’ll wait for him,” Leese said. “After all, he’s the one who got the message, right?”
“From the PI, yes,” she said. “But I could just call him directly—”
“No,” Miles said. “That might tip off whoever contacted him—your brother or someone impersonating him. We didn’t all sneak in here just to blow the element of surprise.”
“Right.” She should have thought of that. “How did you sneak in?” Enoch had told her they’d come into Body Armor in a way that no one would know they had congregated. She had to admit, she was curious.
“Catalina drove,” Leese said. “Anyone could see her dropping me off near the parking garage entrance, but they wouldn’t have seen Miles and Justice, who were ducked down in back and entered low when I opened the back door to grab a jacket.”
Sahara nodded. “Very sneaky. I like it.”
“Sneaky,” Justice growled, “is you trying to go off without us.”
She held up a hand. “I’ve already rethought that and of course you’re right. I’m positive it is Scott, but on the tiny chance that it might not be, I agree I should have backup.”
“Well, hallelujah,” Leese said.
She turned to Brand. “I probably would have come to that conclusion on my own, so please don’t gloat.”
“Wouldn’t think of it.” His phone buzzed and he withdrew it to look at the screen, quieted it with a touch of a button, then put it back in his pocket.
Suspicion bloomed. “Who was that?”
Brand shook his head. “Not important.”
Before she could question him further, Enoch reentered with a tray of donuts, Danish and muffins. While he served coffee and the snacks, Sahara studied Brand.
She half turned toward him, asking quietly, “Was that Becky?”
He snorted. “After all you gave her, odds are she’d contact you before me.”
Feeling culpable all over again, Sahara looked down at her hands. “Then who—”
“So nosy,” he said in a mildly teasing tone, surprising her. “Actually it was Drew Black from the SBC.”
Her gaze shot to his, apprehension getting a stranglehold on her. She knew that Drew Black was the president of the mixed martial arts organization Supreme Battle Challenge, or SBC as it was widely known. “What did he want?”
Brand shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “I assume the organization want an answer about the next fight. I’ve been putting them off for a while now.”
Her chest tightened. Sahara knew she could lose him to the sport he loved, but lately, what he wanted mattered more to her than what she wanted.
Of course, Leese overheard. “Have you made a decision?”
Both Miles and Justice tuned in, waiting for his reply.
Brand looked only at Sahara. “The fight they want me to take is in Japan. I’d have to start training now to be ready, and there wouldn’t be much time for anything else. Those two things combined made the decision for me.”
Sahara frowned, paying little attention to the buzz around her as Miles, Leese and Justice weighed in, discussing the other fighter, the venue, even the payout in the contract. She wanted Brand to sign on as a bodyguard, but she didn’t want him to skip anything important to him.
He’d already been struggling with his self-imposed obligation to Becky, and she’d only added to that burden.
She cut through the conversation to ask, “You’re worried about me, aren’t you?”
His dark gaze fixed on her. “Very.”
Aware of the sudden fascinated silence, she chewed her lower lip. “I wouldn’t want you to—”
“I know.” He covered both her hands with one of his own. “I have a lot to consider, but there’s time for me to decide. For now, let’s figure out this thing with your brother.”
*
THE MOST ALARMING PART, Brand thought, was that Scott—or someone pretending to be Scott—had chosen tonight to meet with Sahara. That made them scramble to create their plans.