to fight for his life. He also knew Landon’s secret. There would be no contest between Landon and the mortal. Unfortunately, that would bring a lot of questions to the surface, questions he would like to avoid.
“I work with him,” Royce answered. “Well, to be more accurate, he works for me at ART Security.”
Recognition-- and something else-- flared in Kurt’s eyes. ART. Royce was part of the Secret Council’s team? Why would the Council have someone working in the Charleston area? Kurt’s contacts still kept him apprised of any local situations. He had not heard of any activity in the area for a couple of years. Since special Ops guys didn’t stay in one place too long, Kurt knew Becki would be in no danger. The two men backed up, and Royce relaxed his stance.
“How long will you be in town?” Kurt asked.
Royce reached for his coffee mug, and emptied the now-cold liquid into a potted banana tree before answering. “As soon as I get things wrapped up here, I’ll be heading back to Asheville.” Glancing toward the kitchen door Becki had just slammed, he continued, “The sooner the better.”
Kurt had served with Ryker’s dad in Bahrain several years ago, and had every intention of calling Ryker Senior the minute he left Becki’s. Something didn’t feel right. If “The Council” was involved, it could only mean one thing: danger was near. He knew that Royce would not hurt Becki, but whomever or whatever he was tracking could, and Kurt didn’t want Becki anywhere around it.
Kurt nodded and moved toward the back door, “Landon, I need to get back to work.” With a quick nod to Royce, Kurt added, “I trust your business here will be concluded quickly. Keep her out of it.”
At Royce’s affirmative nod, Kurt continued through the door. Becki dried the last dish before slamming it down on the counter.
Kurt pinned her with his gaze, announcing, “I want to see you at my house for dinner tomorrow night.”
This time, he didn’t wait for a response before he took his leave.
Looking shell-shocked, Becki responded to a now empty room, “Ok, I’ll be there.”
What the hell? Why was Kurt acting so weird this morning? There was only one way to find out. Flinging the towel down on the counter she headed toward the back door with a purpose.
#
“What was that all about?” she asked as soon as she saw Royce, who was leaning with both forearms propped on the deck rail, thoughtfully staring into her back yard.
Royce shook his head and stepped away from the railing, “I guess he doesn’t like strange men at your house so early in the morning,” he said with a wicked smile.
“Don’t give me that,” Beck scoffed. Pulling her bangs up, she continued, “Do I have ‘stupid’ written on my forehead?”
He stepped forward cupping the back of her head to stare intently at the exposed strip of flesh directly above her eyebrows. As if he were indeed looking to see if something was written there. Royce suddenly smiled and buzzed a kiss in the middle of her forehead. “No, I don’t see anything written there. All I see is--”
Becki shoved him away, “It was a rhetorical question, ass.”
Royce walked over to the table and picked up the empty coffee mugs, intending to take them back into the kitchen. He hoped she had put his clothes on speed-dry; she was too cute for her own good.
“I’ll get those,” she said pointing to the coffee mugs he was currently holding.
“It’s no trouble. It’s the least I can--”
“I said I would get them,” she all but snarled now.
He sat them back down on the table, not wishing to upset her further. “Ok, I’m--”
“What- exactly- is it that you do?” There was a mystery here, and she was going to get to the bottom of it.
“Home security,” he responded automatically.
“I see, home security,” she smiled, like a Cheshire cat.
Becki slowly shook her head and began moving toward him with slow, deliberate steps. Something told him, he was in trouble.
“You said Ryker works for you?” she asked, moving one step closer to him.
“You confirmed that he is out of the country?” another step.
Oh shit! He was being stalked like some rodent.
“Do you provide a lot of home security outside of the U.S.?” yet another step closer.
“How was it you said you got here?” Becki’s head started spinning, but still she pressed on.
Without giving him an opportunity to respond to any of the previous questions, she went straight for the juggler,