All for You (Paris Nights #1)(61)

Dom backed toward his tiny office, his expression one of confounded panic. “I’ve got to do some paperwork,” he mumbled, grasping for the doorknob behind him.

“So thank you!” Célie called. “I appreciate you trying to look after me now!”

He dove inside. “Get to work!” his deep voice bellowed from his hiding spot. “And wipe that damn counter off!”

Célie grinned and hopped down. It was going to be a great day.

***

God, it felt good to use his muscles. What a fantastic day. Joss had always enjoyed building things, fixing things. Motorcycles and cars, as a mechanic before he joined the Legion. Bridges in Central Africa with mosquitoes buzzing all around, on humanitarian missions. Even just setting to and building their base, when all the other military forces around them were sleeping in miserable conditions waiting for their better conditions to drop out of the sky.

But this … there was something about this. Building their home. Their place.

God, Célie was going to love this. It made him want to work even harder and faster, like a guy who just had to figure out a way to make Christmas come sooner, so he could see her face light up when he showed her his fantastic present.


We can’t get much more real and together than a shared apartment. They’d be fighting over caps on the toothpaste and everything.

He grinned at the thought. Well, probably not. He’d probably just do whatever Célie wanted on that one. Save trouble. But he’d probably manage to do something that drove Célie crazy. And he’d get to haul her to him when she put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him, and he’d kiss her and drive her even crazier …

He rolled his shoulders, after hauling the last of the crap down the six floors that were what gave it such a great view. It had been kind of … weird to do it entirely by himself. Not that he minded—he’d done a lot more work than that in a day—but he’d gotten so used to having other men around him, working, too. The solidarity of it, the tempers and the humor and just the company. Doing things together.

Working on such a big job by himself was … well, to be honest, f*cking lonely.

But he’d get used to it. A man could handle anything he set his mind to. He checked his watch.

His first goal was to get the bathroom redone, because until he could insure uninterrupted access to facilities, he was going to be staying at a hotel or—hopefully—crashing at Célie’s place. There was definitely something to be said for a space so little you couldn’t help falling onto the bed.

Oh, yeah. Over and over and over. His body felt so damn good today, he was surprised his dick wasn’t producing an aura of golden light around him for all to see.

He grinned, looking around to make up his mind what to attack next. The shower wouldn’t be delivered until tomorrow, and he had some appointments this afternoon.

A couple more hours before he needed to clean up for those.

He started tearing out the old cabinets. He had a busy day ahead of him, getting started on his new life.

***

Joss sat still and big in Jaime’s office in the Sixth. It was part of a floor of offices labeled Corey on the elevator button. His body felt restless. The morning’s work in the apartment had barely made a dent in his energy. In the Legion, he’d be taking advantage of this rare opportunity to rest, but he didn’t have anything now to rest up for. When he’d passed a construction site on the walk over here, men hauling down great sacks of stone from some top-floor apartment, it had been all he could do not to strip off his shirt and ask to help.

It kind of looked like more fun, working with them, than working on the apartment by himself.

He missed the physicality of his life, and he missed the camaraderie, too. Strong men, working hard together, taking risks together. Missed knowing that three words A moi, Legion! would bring every Legionnaire in earshot running to join in his fight.

“So your background checks out,” Jaime said.

Joss raised his eyebrows a little. “The Legion gave you information on me?” What minister of France had they held hostage and tortured?

Jaime smiled faintly. “Hardly. But we were able to confirm that you were actually in it, as you said, and not in prison for the past five years.”

Fair enough. Joss waited.

“I’m reticent toward private military companies,” Jaime said.

Well, hell. Yeah. Who wouldn’t be?

“But given the scale of our operations, and the detriment to Corey when local wars affect the cacao supply, we’re under some pressure to employ at least some forces to protect our farmers. I resisted that in the past, but riding around on a moped trying to do good didn’t work out that well for me.”

Joss’s eyebrows went up a little. He studied the slender, freckled woman across from him. “You rode around on a moped trying to create world peace or something?”

Jaime opened a hand wryly.

“Hell. That was stu—” He caught himself. Maybe she already knew that was stupid.

“At any rate, at this point we accept that we probably need to work with at least some private security forces,” Jaime said.

“No,” Joss said.

She paused. From the look on her face, people must not say no to her job offers all that often.

“I’m not interested in being a mercenary. Sorry. I’d rather have stayed in the Legion.”