Chapter 25

Seeing Jackson look just about ready to commit murder only served to make the entire situation all that much funnier. With an amused head shake, Leila studied first Donovan and then the pizza-munching Bennett who joined them on the couch, sandwiching her in.

Seeing as how there were at least five other seating options in the room, clearly, they were doing it to mess with Jackson.

She liked them already.

“Bennett and Donovan, I presume? I’ve heard a lot about you both.”

“All bad, of course,” reassured Jackson dryly.

Both guys grinned proudly.

Jackson just shook his head tiredly—mouth twitching in a valiant effort to keep a smile at bay—and made his way over to the stairs. “Since my friends ruined the excellent reason I was having for being late this morning, I might as well go get dressed.” He speared them both with a look. “Don’t either of you hit on my girl.”

“Can’t promise that,” called out Donovan in a semi-serious tone.

“The good news,” Bennett informed Leila with a shamelessly suggestive brow arch, “is that you can still hit on us.

Leila waited until a quietly grousing and growling Jackson was out of the room before she let loose her chuckles. “Wow. You guys rile him up even more than I do. I’m totally impressed. Huge fan of your work.”

“We could give you pointers,” offered Donovan helpfully.

“But you’ve got to put in the time and really work at it like we do,” added Bennett in a grave tone.

Correction: She loved these guys.

Turning to face Bennett, she asked the question she’d been so curious about. “You were the contractor for this building, right? Clearly, you knew that Jackson was a billionaire—doesn’t the building need some, I don’t know, super high-tech security features to ensure no one mobs and robs him?”

“No worries, we do. You just can’t see ’em. We actually have one of the most state-of-the-art security systems in the state,” he replied matter-of-factly. “It’s just not overt. Plus, the lot is situated to help prevent access as well. The lake surrounds our south and west borders, and the acres of highly secured land surrounding the solar farm covers makes northern access virtually impossible. So for vehicles, there’s just the one way in through the security gate at the front of the lot because the boarding and breeding ranch you passed on the way in butts up to the dog park in Cactus Creek and takes care of our eastern border. If any intruder somehow manages to get on the lot, they can only get so far before the silent perimeter alarm is activated and the entire building goes into lockdown. We’ve never had anyone even get close to our perimeter alarm without one of our four security guards intercepting them first.”

“Four? I only saw one security type guy on our way in at the building entrance.”

“That would be Shane,” explained Donovan. “He lives on the first floor of the building, so if you can get anywhere near the building, he’ll be the first to know about it. His two back-ups are his security mutts that roam the property—he brought them both back with him from deployment. We’ve yet to see them in action, but let’s just say that even the few military buddies who have stopped by to visit Shane now that he’s retired give the dogs a wide berth.”

Leila didn’t even recall hearing a single dog bark when they came in last night. While normally, she would’ve thought that made them the worst guard dogs ever, in this case, she saw that made them all the more dangerous.

As she replayed their drive in, she realized who the fourth security guard was. “The woman on the horse at the ranch—she works for you guys as well, doesn’t she?”

“Told you this one was smarter than all of Jackson’s other women,” praised Donovan appreciatively.

Hearing the “all” in that statement stung a little, but she took the compliment for what it was.

“Yep. That would be Chelle, the owner of the ranch. I’ve seen her out-sharp-shoot even the best in the nation, and she has four mammoth brothers who taught her to take care of herself. But it’s her quick mind that makes her the best first line of defense for us. Haven’t had to worry any of them since we moved here last year, but I imagine now that Jackson’s secret’s out, that’s probably going to change.”

Just then, Bennett let out a low whistle. “Look who’s all grown up and wearing his big boy pants.”

Leila turned and did a double take when she saw Jackson walk down the stairs in a suit that looked red carpet ready.

He stopped at the foot of the stairs, his assessing gaze studying her face. “You don’t like it.” It wasn’t a question.

“No, no, I do. You look gorgeous.”

He watched her with eyes simmering in curiosity. “But?” he pressed, his voice and sheer presence pinning her to the spot.

“I just…I like you in your casual clothes. You usually look more comfortable.” She nodded, certain that was the biggest distinction. “You also usually look a little less…” She tried to find the right word. “Tame.”

Holy hell, this time, when his seemingly provoked gaze dropped to her lips, they didn’t just linger, they seared. Scorched.

Dared her to call him tame again.

All at once, she saw him shift from nice, handsome designer-suit model featured on page seventy-two of the billionaire’s shopping catalog to dangerously hungry lone wolf disguised in GQ clothing.

Slicking just the very tip of her tongue over the center of her top lip in response was as much an unbidden reaction as it was her one feeble attempt to cool off the effects of his laser-hot glance.

She swore she could practically taste him, and lordy, if wishful thinking had a flavor—

Attempting to block that runaway train of thought, she pulled her now parched lower lip between her teeth, registering the sharp nip of her incisors a full heartbeat after she even realized she was holding her breath.

To keep from panting.

She’d all but unraveled before his eyes right in front of them.

Jackson practically growled as he watched that pretty pink blush on Leila’s cheeks flush deeper, but in belated awareness of her surroundings now instead of unfiltered arousal.

Part of the growl was a warning to the two men flanking her on the couch who’d looked just as affected by her sweet blushes.

They were his best friends, and he trusted them with his life. But they were still guys; and she was an angel-goddess wearing nothing but one of his shirts and a pair of his boxer briefs.

So yeah, their nearness to her was driving him a little crazy.

And they damn well knew it, the jackasses.

Donovan just settled even more in his seat, looking fully entertained with his arm on the back of the couch almost touching her shoulders—the prick. At least Bennett had the decency to eventually stand up, albeit with a sigh that indicated he was giving up a fabulous new toy.

Good man. Or at least smart man.

Either way, the move was enough for Jackson to definitively promote Bennett to the better of his best friends, official ceremony pending. Donovan, on the other hand, was quickly working on getting demoted to that-guy-whose-ass-he’d-once-kicked, seeing as he was now leaning over and whispering something in Leila’s ear.

Bennett proceeded to help himself to some more cold pizza from the kitchen before heading to the front door. “Now that we’ve determined Jackson wasn’t kidnapped or being tortured with sex here against his will, I’m out. I’m going to be late for a meeting this morning with a building inspector…Not that I’m worried, of course.” A slow, confident grin slid across his face while his eyes drifted up to the ceiling as if he were watching a memory replay. “After all, when I left her apartment an hour ago, she was still completely tuckered out.”

Despite the zoo that his living room had become this morning, Jackson couldn’t help chuckling in tired amusement. There just wasn’t anyone else like Bennett when it came to treating the world like his playground, and each day like a ride ticket on his favorite roller coasters.

“Plus,” continued Bennett, in almost comic disbelief, “this whole parallel universe thing where I’m not the hottest man in a woman’s eyes when I’m in a room with these two isn’t doing it for me.” He winked at Leila. “My apartment is on the second and third floors of the building if you come to your senses.”

Leila’s chuckling—and Jackson’s scowling—was interrupted by the almost simultaneous ringing of Donovan’s two cellphones. In response to her questioning look, Donovan merely winked at her as well, pocketing the phone that had never once seen a male name or number in its contact list while answering his business line on his way toward the door Bennett had left open.

Never one to be rude though, he made sure to pause what sounded like the start of a heated discussion over the merger deal they all knew he’d been working overtime on, to give Jackson a brief wave, along with a not-at-all-subtle return to the couch to slip Leila his business card—with his personal cellphone number already scribbled on the back, of course.

That settled it. Jackson was getting new friends along with new door locks.