Oath of Valor (Personal Protectors Book 3) Page 3

  One reason was because, for an older guy, he was extremely sexy. I was never one to discriminate against age, but I did draw the line at barely legal and old enough to be my grandfather. Larry was, hell, I didn’t even know how old he was. But, considering he was Brice’s father, I knew he had to be late forties, early fifties.

  He wasn’t sexy as in looking like he’d just stepped off the pages of a GQ magazine. No, he had rugged good looks and carried himself in a way that oozed confidence and demanded people stop and pay attention. And every time I was in his presence, which thankfully wasn’t all that much, not only did I pay attention, but so did my dick.

  Another reason was that being around him whenever he’d stop at home proved to be difficult. Seeing him, hearing his rumbly voice, and smelling his intoxicating muskiness was the ultimate temptation wrapped up in a manly package. All it did was remind me of that wild night we’d spent together, and I found myself thinking that once wasn’t enough. When typically, one-night stands quenched my thirst until I found my next conquest. It made me wonder why Larry was different from all the other men.

  But the biggest reason was because he was Brice’s father. Wanting to fuck him broke a major rule in the bromance rule book. Had I known that Larry was Brice’s dad, that night wouldn’t have happened, no matter how badly my dick hurt the more we chatted as the night progressed.

  Which was why I was surprised Brice was so eager to move out and leave Larry and me alone. Brice had a hard time dealing with the news that his dad and I spent a night together, and who could blame the guy? Had the situation been reversed, I probably would’ve been pissed, too. Especially since I’d told him quite a few explicit details. But maybe he knew that Larry would hardly be there, and I knew he and Carter were anxious to start their own lives together. Not to mention, I’m sure it sucked having to keep it down, and their own apartment allowed them to be as loud as they wanted during sexy times.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “This is your house, and obviously you have every right to be here.”

  “Yup,” was his reply.

  He wasn’t much of a conversationalist, which was going to make these three weeks difficult since I loved to talk. Not in a way that I liked hearing my own voice; no, I was just a chatty person. I was a very social person, and I enjoyed meeting new people. Which was kind of ironic since I only had about four people I considered friends.

  “So, uh…” I grappled for something to say after a moment of awkward silence. “What, uh, what made you decide to take a vacation.”

  “I didn’t.”

  Huh? “But you said you’re on a vacation.”

  Another drink of his beer. “I am.”

  “Then...” I trailed off, pursing my lips. Clearly, he didn’t want to engage in conversation, and I wasn’t going to try and force it. And if he didn’t want to talk about it, then I was going to stop pretending like I cared. Because I didn’t care at all. Not one bit.

  Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that, Elliot. You’re about to be stuck with this man for three freaking weeks. You care. Damn, that voice in my head. Thank god, I had a job that’d keep me busy most days.

  “I was forced to take one,” he explained, surprising me with his answer. Setting his beer bottle on the table beside him, he abruptly stood up. “I’m going to order a pizza.” Larry walked into the kitchen, most likely to grab a menu.

  I sighed and muttered a quiet thank you. It was going to be a long three weeks, and I was going to have to make the most of it.

  Half an hour later, a knock on the door startled me. Larry had turned on the television and switched the channel to some weird show about buying people’s junk and trying to sell it for a profit. Some guys in a van traveled all over the country buying crap for their store. I wasn’t sure how they decided what was worth anything, and what wasn’t, since it all looked like it belonged in the trash. But the longer I watched, the more I found myself curious about it. Some of the stuff was actually pretty cool, but I wondered if most of those people realized they had a hoarding problem.

  Larry walked to the door, pulling his wallet out along the way, and then had a quick interaction with the delivery man. Wordlessly, he carried the box to the living room and set it down on the coffee table.

  “Dinner,” he announced before he grabbed a slice and went back to watching his show.

  I quirked my eyebrow, shooting him a wry look, as I bent over to grab a slice of my own. It was a meat-lovers pizza and thankfully, I wasn’t a picky eater, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed that he didn’t even ask what I liked.

  Granted, he paid for the pizza, and I was a house guest, but, Jesus. The man was an asshole. What if I was allergic? Or vegetarian? Was there even a courteous bone in his body? Ugh, evidently not, except for letting me stay at his house. But whatever, pizza was pizza, and I was starving.

  After downing a few slices, I sat there stewing in more awkward silence. Even though the television was on, I was still aware of the sounds Larry made when he chewed. I could hear his deep, even breathing. His annoyed grunts at the show. Even the sounds he made when he swallowed his beer. Fuck. It’d only been a few hours since he’d been home, and already I was acutely aware of him. How in the hell was I going to handle twenty-one days of this?

  “So, uh, I started a new job,” I blurted out, trying to break the silence.

  Larry quirked his brow at me. “Okay.”

  “I think I’m going to like it.”

  “Good.”

  “Yeah, I thought I’d only be answering phones, but there’s actually a lot more to it. It’ll be interesting, that’s for sure.”

  “Huh.”

  God, talking to him was worse than talking to a brick wall. Actually, that was insulting to a brick wall since it at least had way more personality. How in the hell did we strike up enough conversation that I was willing to take him home? The alcohol must’ve loosened his lips, because otherwise they were tightly closed.

  “So, uh, after a few paychecks, I should have enough to put a deposit on a new place, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “That’s fine.”

  I clenched my hands into fists at my side. Hearing the words “that’s fine” wasn’t exactly the response I’d wanted. I wanted to hear that it was okay I was there. That there was no rush, and that I wasn’t in his hair. The words “that’s fine” were the equivalent to hearing “that’s great to hear.” Or, at least, that’s how I felt.

  “I’ll try to be out as soon as I can,” I replied tersely.

  Larry shrugged. “Whatever you need to do.”

  How in the hell was this man Brice’s father? Brice was one of the most fun-loving men I’d ever met. He was outgoing, loved to talk, and knew how to have a great time. Hell, he and I would even go out on the dance floor and throw our dirtiest dance moves possible to gain an audience. From the way we danced, I wouldn’t have been one bit surprised if he got pregnant if he’d had a uterus. But there was zero attraction between us. While I thought he was a good-looking guy, he wasn’t my type and vice versa. We were just great friends who liked to dry-hump the fuck out of each other for shits and giggles. Larry, on the other hand, had the personality of drywall. Brice must’ve gotten his easy-going nature from his mother. That’s the only explanation I could come up with.

  “Right. Well, getting back on my own two feet is definitely what I need to do. I think this job will work out so I can afford to do it soon.”

  Larry grabbed another slice of pizza. “Great.”

  How fucking annoying—and rude. I was trying to have a legit conversation with the asshole, and all he could answer was with, at the most, five words. How in the hell did Brice handle Carter barely talking to him? Did he learn to speak grunts, groans, and caveman fluently? Because learning a second language wasn’t something I’d ever aspired to do. Sometimes English was hard enough. And the longer I sat there, the more annoyed I got. How in the hell did I ever find this man attractive? And how in the hell had I
ended up sleeping with him? Regardless of how hot the sex was, he was a complete asshole.

  Suddenly I felt tired. The show was apparently running a marathon, and I was growing bored with it. The sun was setting, and while it was earlier than usual for me, I needed to get the hell away from Larry. With nowhere to really go, and having to work early the next morning, I opted to just go to bed. Which was pathetic, really, considering I was used to staying out until nearly dawn.

  “I’m going to bed,” I announced, which was stupid considering he wouldn’t care.

  “Night.”

  Ugh. With a frustrated sigh, I got off the couch and ambled down the hall to where my room was set up. After brushing my teeth, and changing into my pajamas, I crawled between the sheets. Tossing and turning until I felt comfortable, I closed my eyes and willed myself to fall asleep.

  Vacation. I couldn’t believe he was going to be on vacation for three fucking weeks. It was going to be three of the longest weeks of my life.

  Chapter 4

  “Karma was a bitch. And so was her fucking sister.”

  Larry

  Being forced to take a vacation was my own personal hell. I couldn’t do stagnancy. I had to stay busy, or I felt like I was going to lose my edge. Plus, it gave me time to think about shit that I’d rather not. About past cases that still liked to haunt my dreams. Kills I had been forced to make when I’d had no other option. My hands were permanently stained red from the blood of the lives I had to take over the years—even though I was the only one who could see it. A reminder of all the times I’d had to make the decision that my life was more important than someone else’s. My type of job could be very selfish, and considering I was a bastard, my life would always take precedence over someone else’s—except for Brice.

  Elliot handled my impromptu vacation about as well as I’d expected him to. He wasn’t happy about it, at all. But hell, neither was I. In fact, the next morning, I woke up early and went straight to the Bureau. I barged into Malcolm’s office without knocking first—interrupting a call with his wife—and demanded he put me on desk duty instead of a forced vacation. Yeah, that didn’t go over well.

  “Don’t push me any more than you already have, Armstrong. I’ll make your vacation even longer if I have to.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” I challenged him.

  “I wouldn’t? Considering I already have you on a three-week vacation, I think I would.”

  “This is bullshit, Malcolm, and you know it. I’m the best agent you have! Putting me on this stupid leave isn’t going to help those guys solve any cases. Put me back to work!”

  “No can do. My hands are tied. I already turned the paperwork into HR. I don’t want to give them any more work to change the payroll.”

  “You’re such a bastard,” I growled at him, not giving one single fuck that he was my superior.

  Malcolm merely shrugged. “And you’re on vacation. Get out of my office.”

  I gritted my teeth as I stalked to the door. I flung it open with way more force than necessary and started to cross over the threshold. His voice stopped me, and I had a small flare of hope that he’d changed his mind.

  “Yes?” I asked, turning around slightly to look at him over my shoulder.

  “If I see you here again before your vacation is up, I’m extending it to four weeks. Stay away from here.”

  His look told me he wasn’t joking, and with a glare to everyone who dared look my way as I walked out, I stormed out of the building and stalked to my truck. I started the truck and sat in the parking lot instead of driving back home.

  There was no way I could stay home for three weeks and twiddle my fucking thumbs. Nor be around Elliot for an extended period of time. Thank fuck he got a job and would be leaving soon. It had been hard enough being around him while he’d been in the hospital, and during those days he’d first been released from the hospital. I’d stayed around long enough to make sure he got settled. Brice really stepped up, and even though he was going through his own recovery, came by as much as he could to keep Elliot company and help me out when I had to work. It should’ve made me feel like an ass, since it was my idea for Elliot to stay with me in the first place, but it didn’t. I selfishly took Brice coming around as an open invitation to continue my hectic work schedule and stayed gone as much as I was able to.

  I was trying a bit more with Brice, though. Granted, I still wasn’t around much, but I made more of an effort than I did before. Any progress was at least some sort of progress, correct? And he was so caught up with his man that he didn’t seem to mind I was still a bit distant. Besides, it was kind of too late to have a proper father slash son relationship. He was too old to need a father figure, and I was too far gone to know how to be one. No, my infrequent texts and attempts to be home just a tad bit more seemed to appease him for the time being. Until he bitched or complained about my absence, I was going to continue with how things were.

  I debated on whether to actually go somewhere during my hell weeks. No way would I call them a vacation. Vacations were planned. Vacations were supposed to be exciting and relaxing. Vacations were fucking wanted. Three weeks home with temptation everywhere I looked wasn’t planned, excited, relaxing, or wanted. They were fucking hell. And I was beginning to wonder if this was karma’s way of paying me back for all the wrong I’d done over the years. Then an idea hit me.

  I was sure Rusty needed a vacation. Hell, after being shot and losing his spleen, he’d been ordered to maintain a strict diet and take it easy. Beckett, his nephew, had taken control of overseeing the bar, and Rusty’s girlfriend, Bertie, was worse than a drill sergeant. I knew she wasn’t going to let Rusty skip his daily antibiotic or eat anything too salty or fatty. Maybe we could go away for a week and get into some trouble.

  As I pulled out of the parking lot, the idea of going away with Rusty grew on me, and I found myself actually wanting to go. Now all I had to do was get Rusty on board with the idea. I spoke into my Bluetooth and asked it to dial Rusty’s number. A few rings later and his gruff voice was filling up the cab of my truck.

  “What do you need?”

  “I can’t call a friend without needing something?” I asked wryly.

  Rusty chuckled into the phone. “You never call me unless you need something. What is it, this time? That boy of yours get himself in trouble again?”

  “Nope. This is actually a friendly call.”

  “Bertie,” Rusty called out. I heard Bertie’s voice in the background as she answered him. “Did you switch my medicine out? I’m hallucinating.”

  “Bastard.”

  Rusty laughed into the phone again. “I thought it was funny. Anyway, what do I owe the pleasure of this friendly call?”

  “I’m on mandatory vacation for the next three weeks.” Even saying those words out loud had me cringing.

  “Ouch. That… wow that sucks, Larry.”

  I sighed heavily. If anyone would understand my need to work, it was definitely Rusty. I’d only met the man a few years prior when I was undercover working with a motorcycle gang called Hell on Wheels. The gang used Rusty’s bar as their headquarters, and I had been investigating them for buying contracts from a corrupt politician—Walker’s father. Walker ended up being Beckett’s boyfriend, and after a string of weird events, became a key player in helping bring down Wallace Cardwell.

  When I’d first approached Rusty about what was really going on, I could see I’d met a kindred spirit. He asked no questions and easily accepted what I’d presented to him. He kept his promise about staying quiet and had no problem stepping up when the time came to save Walker. From that point on, Rusty and I had become friends, and when I had needed help with Brice, he had been the only person I could call on.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Is Elliot still staying there?”

  I sighed and flipped on my turn signal to merge into the turning lane. “He is. Got a job and said he plans on moving out as soon as possible.”

 
“Good. That’s good.”

  “So, I was thinking we could get away for a few days during my vacation.”

  “Hang on a second, I think this phone has a bad connection. Because I could’ve sworn you just suggested we go on a vacation.”

  “Shut up. I’m off work for three weeks, and with Beckett taking over Rusty’s, it’s not like you have anything to do, either.”

  “Ouch. Hit me right where it hurts.”

  “Truth fits and all that.”

  “Whatever. What did you have in mind?”

  “Hell if I know. I thought I’d leave that up to you.”

  “Of course, you did.”

  “You’re more of a details man.”

  “And you’re more of an asshole the older you get.”

  “Yup. Anyway, I’m pulling up to the house. Keep me posted on any suggestions you have and when you want to go. I’m free the next three weeks.”

  “Larry, is this urge to get away because you’re stuck at home? Or is this urge to get away because of who will be at home with you?”

  “Bye, Rusty.”

  I heard Rusty cackling into the phone as I disconnected the call. Damn man. Rusty was shrewd and learned a lot by keeping quiet and paying attention to his surroundings. I’d known from our talks that he was also ex-military, but I had a feeling that years of tending bar taught him a thing or two about reading people. And he read me like a fucking open book written in large, bold print.

  I pulled into the garage and cut the engine as I stared at the door that led into my house. Temptation was waiting inside, and I found myself hoping that Rusty wanted to go on that trip sooner rather than later. I wasn’t sure how long I was going to be able to stay in that house with Elliot without fucking up with him—again. A man could only jack off so much, and at the rate I was going, I was worried about the safety of my dick. I planned on using it more in the future, and that wouldn’t happen if it fell off from being played with too much.