The Havoc We Wreak - Becca Steele Page 0,39

stay away from you on campus. Can’t have anyone thinking we’re hanging out and Joseph getting wind of it.”

Caiden snorted. “We’re not friends, not even fucking close. No danger of that.”

“Course not,” James muttered, before adding something else under his breath that wasn’t very complimentary, if Caiden’s hostile glare was anything to go by.

“Thanks, James,” I said, squeezing Caiden’s hand warningly. “I appreciate everything. And I can’t get over the fact you saved my life.”

He stood, shrugging off my thanks. “You’re welcome. See you around.” Then he was gone, leaving me with my brooding boyfriend, my head spinning.

FIFTEEN

I pulled my R8 into the car park of Skirmish, seeing my dad’s car already there. He climbed out at the same time Weston and I did, still in his suit, looking every inch the successful, confident businessman that he was.

“Afternoon. Caiden, Weston,” he greeted us. “I have to say, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when you suggested we get together. I assumed we’d be playing golf.”

Golf.

Weston screwed up his face. “No, thanks, Dad. You know I don’t like golf.”

We headed into the building, the automatic doors opening with a soft whirr as we neared them.

“Do you want to know a secret?” My dad turned to Weston conspiratorially. “I used to hate golf, too. But I’ll give you the same advice my father gave me. Some of the most important business deals are made on the golf course, not in the boardroom. Remember that.”

Weston eyed him with all the care of someone for whom business didn’t even feature on their radar. “I see.”

“You have to understand, it’s an important part of business. My initial De Witt negotiations were hashed out over a round of golf.”

Bored of their discussion, I stalked up to the reception desk, signing us in, leaving them talking together. The blonde girl behind the desk pouted and batted her eyelashes as she tried to flirt with me, but I ignored her advances.

“I’m free, later,” she purred, leaning closer to me.

Why wouldn’t she get the fucking hint? “Not interested. Try him. He’s single.” I pointed with my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of my brother, barely sparing her a glance.

“Two of you?” She practically salivated. “Is that your dad?” She continued talking, still not getting the hint that I wasn’t interested in making conversation. “He’s seriously hot for an older man.”

I grunted, not bothering with a reply. Undeterred, she tossed her hair over her shoulder, batting her lashes even harder as my dad and brother joined us at the reception desk.

Weston gave her one of his cheeky grins, then he just had to throw in a wink, and she gripped the edges of the desk, swooning.

“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered under my breath.

“Everything ready?” My dad, with perfect timing, distracted them both from the sickening flirt-fest that was going on.

She straightened up, professional at last. “Yes. You can go on through, now.” She pressed the button under the desk that opened the automatic-locking gate that led into the rest of the building, and we pushed through.

At the gun range we were handed heavy pistols and ear defenders.

“We thought we could have a bit of a friendly competition.” West looked over at my dad, who was examining his gun, weighing it in his hand. “Dad?”

He glanced up from the pistol. “What did you have in mind?”

“Loser buys dinner?”

“You do realise who pays money into your bank accounts each month, don’t you?” He raised a brow, a small smirk crossing his lips. “Come on, then. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

He raised his gun, ready to go. The wall at the bottom of the range lit up, a set of spotlights indicating the prime targets, and the buzzer sounded to indicate our time had begun. No hesitation, he shot in quick succession, coolly and cleanly taking out the targets one by one, before pulling off his ear defenders and turning to me.

Tugging my own ear defenders off my head, I stared at him, open-mouthed. “That’s fucking impressive. Since when can you shoot? Other than clay pigeons, I mean.”

“Language,” he said, but there was no heat in his words. In fact, there was a sparkle in his eye, and he was…was he actually grinning at me? “I have plenty of skills, son. Maybe your old man can teach you a thing or two.”

I shook my head, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “I think I can beat you,” I said confidently. “Maybe I’ll be the one teaching