Blanc ignored her bodyguards. Well, mostly ignored them. Except Kevin.
Today, apparently, Kevin existed in her universe. Not the other three, just Kevin. It was as if, after several days, she’d suddenly remembered she had a son. Only one son, mind you. She still ignored Colin.
Judd caught her, at one point, talking fast and hurriedly in Kevin’s ear.
“Don’t you think it would be fun? Mother and son, traipsing through Europe? Just think on it, darling – a European tour. I’d put you in charge. Who else would I have guard my back but my own child? You’d never have to take orders from that other enforcer ever again. It’s beneath you, darling. Not to mention your silly weak Alpha.”
Kevin looked pained and exhausted. He didn’t bother to answer. He caught Judd’s eye and shook his head.
Judd gave him their coded hand signal for don’t bother.
Kevin responded with the British hand gesture for fucking wanker. One of Judd’s favorites from the old country. He’d brought it with him to the New World. Ah, memories.
Blanc didn’t follow the nuances of the exchange, but she understood they’d been discussing and dismissing her. She glared at Judd, true hatred in her eyes. Like most Alphas, she didn’t like her will thwarted. Well, screw her, Judd intended to thwart to the best of his rank’s abilities.
They kept a close eye on Risa. The stylist didn’t behave any differently than she had previously. She helped Blanc into her various outfits. Apparently, even radio required a look. Then there was a different outfit for shopping.
Yeah, exactly. Blanc dressed up to go buy more things to dress up in. Bloody insane.
At the third boutique, Judd wandered around. Let Kevin do most of the guarding while his crazy Alpha mother bought half the store.
“I don’t really like this, but I might as well buy it, because you never know.” He overheard her say to Jojo at one point.
Colin drifted over to him. “Anything?”
“This is interminable.”
“Agreed.” Colin brushed Judd’s hand, just the back of two of his fingers against Judd’s wrist. Judd jolted at the delicious skin-to-skin contact. It was so subtle as to seem accidental, probably in case Judd rejected him or didn’t notice. Judd struggled not to grab Colin’s hand and tug him into an embrace – power and brute claiming, driven by his joyous shock. His Gingersnap had reached out, in public! Instead, he placed a hand to the small of Colin’s back, steered him into a private corner – rewarding his tentative advance with equally subtle (if more proprietary) contact. Okay, maybe not that subtle. He caught Kevin rolling his eyes and grinning at him and suppressed the extremely childish urge to stick his tongue out at his fellow enforcer.
Forcefully casual, Judd pulled out a pretty, filmy, green blouse with a low, draped collar. He thought the color would exactly match Colin’s eyes and the neckline would show off his slender throat.
Uh oh, he was getting poetic again.
“This would look nice on you,” was what he said.
Colin looked between him and the shirt, wide-eyed and skeptical. “You think?”
What had he just said? Of course he thought that. “Yes.”
“It’s gorgeous.” Colin fingered the soft fabric. “But super expensive.”
Judd snorted at him. “You never spend money on yourself.”
Colin took the blouse from him, looked at it wistfully. “I already cost the pack so much − my tuition, my textbooks. And I don’t give back nearly enough in return.”
That made Judd angry. But they were in the middle of a shop surrounded by the enemy so he only said. “You’re ridiculous. It’s one shirt, Gingersnap.”
Colin nodded. “I’ll remember the style and color for later. Next time Marvin drags me thrifting, maybe we can find something similar.”
“Fine,” replied Judd with ill grace. He really wanted to see the dumb shirt on Colin. He wanted to pet it, warm against Colin’s skin. He wanted to peel it off him, slowly. Something good should come out of shopping with Lexi Bloody Blanc.
So, the moment his mate got distracted, Judd bought him the shirt. It was way overpriced for a thin scrap of fabric, but that’s clothing for you. It was also delicate enough to tuck into Judd’s back pocket, or it would have been if he hadn’t been wearing goddamn stripper pants. With no pockets! Who makes pants without pockets? Risa, apparently. The woman definitely needed to be locked up.
He handed the shirt to Isaac, who smirked at him, and tucked it into his backpack. Because Isaac