What Chris Wants
Page 7

 Lori Foster

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Priss smiled in satisfaction. “Look who’s talking. As if Dare is any different around you.”
In the most noticeable ways, the men were different. They had unique abilities, unique outlooks and an aura of danger that somehow suited them.
Matt folded his shirt and put it behind him with his shoes and socks. The sun on his bare shoulders felt good. A swim would feel even better. He eyed the water, considering it.
Priss gave him a playful shoulder bump. “Chris is a skinny-dipper.”
That didn’t surprise Matt, but it did give him an inspired visual. He could actually see Chris standing under the bright sunshine, no worries, no modesty, wearing only that cocky smile.
He didn’t dare look at either of the ladies. “Do tell.”
“You know he’s a nature buff. But the skinny-dipping was before we—” Priss waved a finger from Molly to herself and back again. “—came around. Now, with ladies underfoot, he stays proper.”
Chris, proper? That had to be a joke. The man wallowed in being improper—and Matt loved him for it. He could always count on Chris to be the cure to all things stuffy or boring.
As a verbal nudge to Priss, Molly added, “And speaking of Chris…”
“Right.” Priss inhaled, preparing for another launch.
Cutting her off with a laugh, Matt sprawled back on the dock and dropped a forearm over his eyes. “Listen to you two trying to be subtle, when you’re anything but.”
“I can be subtle,” Molly insisted.
“Not when you’re hanging out with Priss, you can’t.”
With a shrug in her voice, Priss said, “We love Chris. No reason to be subtle about that.”
Of course they loved Chris. Who didn’t? “So you want to know my intentions, is that it?”
Molly cleared her throat. “Something like that.”
“You two aren’t going to let this go?”
Priss laughed. “Nope.”
Apologetic, Molly echoed, “No.”
“Fine.” He didn’t bother to sit up. Truthfully, with the heat of the sun sinking into his bones, he didn’t feel like moving at all. “I’d be all in. But Chris is tied to this place, and this place is top secret.” He lifted the arm to squint at the women. “I know he’s Dare’s housekeeper, and apparently that’s more important to him than just about anything else.”
More important than a lasting relationship with Matt.
The truth hurt, so he covered his face again.
Silence reigned. He could hear the dogs climbing out onto the shore, the tweeting of a bird in a tree, the low buzzing of insects.
The air vibrated with growing tension, and when he felt breath on his face, he moved his arm to investigate.
Priss was right there, scowling at him. “Chris is far more than a housekeeper.”
At least her position looming over him blocked the bright sunlight. “How much more?”
The most ridiculous expression came over her face, making her look like she’d just been caught doing something she shouldn’t.
Slowly, she retreated.
Matt came up to his elbows.
Both Priss and Molly stole a glance at his chest and abs, and then stared at him with wary regard. “Is my fly open?” He looked down and found nothing amiss.
Suddenly the dock rocked and they all three turned to see…Chris.
So that’s why the dogs had given up swimming. He should have realized.
Chris wore unlaced sneakers and baggy shorts that looked like they’d been in the lake earlier and had dried in the sun. The logo on his T-shirt was so faded that Matt had no idea what it might once have been.
A light breeze ruffled Chris’s dark, messy hair and reflective sunglasses shielded his bright-blue eyes. Both dogs stuck close to him, one at either side of him. Given the lack of a smile, Chris wasn’t pleased with the visit.
Matt didn’t care. Still on one elbow, dismissing Molly and Priss from his mind, he said, “Hi.”
Chris took off the glasses, and Matt sort of wished that he hadn’t. Displeasure didn’t begin to cover it. Chris was pissed.
Molly scampered to her feet. “I, ah, think I’ll go help Dare with dinner.” She fled the scene.
Priss, ballsier than Molly, rose with less haste. She stared down at Matt, and said, “Consider yourself invited to dinner.”
Matt looked back at Chris. He still said nothing.
“Uh, sure. Thanks, hon.”
Still, she didn’t leave. “For the record, I did want to talk to you about Alani. With the baby and all, she’s due some pampering.”
“Consider it done.” Matt had a hard time keeping his gaze off Chris. “Just let me know when.”
“You’re a good friend, Matt.” She gave him a smile that all but reeked of pity. “Thank you.”
* * *
Few things got to Chris. Being relaxed was as much a part of him as his blue eyes. He saw no point in getting riled, or causing a scene, or raging over things he couldn’t change. He adjusted to circumstances. He made the best of all situations.
Those traits contributed to his value as a personal assistant to Dare.
But right now… He worked his back teeth together while Matt watched him with guarded uncertainty.
And that infuriated him more than anything else.
He kicked off his shoes. “Fuck it.” On his way past Matt, he peeled out of his shirt and dropped it, with his sunglasses, wallet and cell phone, near Matt’s clothes. He made a clean dive into the refreshing water.