Page 49 of Damaged Protector
“Yep. She’s not very far along yet, but her appetite is crazy right now. Woody said their grocery bill has almost doubled.”
He led me toward a door at the end of the hall, and my eyes fell on the nameplate. Atwood. As in Beau “Shark” Atwood. The boss of this company.
“Shit,” I hissed, straightening my white button-down shirt. “Are you sure I shouldn’t have worn a dress or suit or something?”
Hawk’s warm hand pressed against my upper back, and my nervousness settled a bit at his touch.
“We’re pretty informal here. We usually wear these polos for work unless we’re on a job that requires a suit. You look great.”
After knocking, he pushed open the door to a very large office. A man with sandy brown hair and sharp green eyes sat behind a desk, a telephone pressed to his ear. He gestured for us to enter with a waggle of his fingers as he wrapped up his call.
Hanging up the phone, he stood. Shark Atwood was a little shorter than Hawk, but his aura of authority made him seem like a giant.
“You must be Mallori,” he said, crossing the room and giving me a firm handshake.
“Yes, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Call me Shark or Beau,” he said, indicating that I should sit in the brown leather chair across from his desk as he took his seat.
Hawk gave me a shoulder squeeze before he left, and I sat primly on the edge of the chair, taking a deep breath.
Okay, here we fucking go.
“You got the job?” Cam yelled, scooping me against him and twirling me in a circle. “We’ll get to see each other every day.”
He squeezed me so hard, I yelped out a laugh. We were in his office, which was a replica of Woody and Taz’s but with only one desk.
“I know! Look, you’re gonna have to help me when I have dumb questions so I don’t look like an idiot in front of Shark. He’s a little scary.”
“Pshhh, he’s not bad, but you can always come to me if you need anything. How about I take you to lunch to celebrate?”
“Did someone say lunch?” A guy with blond hair pulled into a man bun stuck his head in the door. I usually wasn’t into long-haired men, but this dude was rocking the hell out of the look. Even dressed in the office uniform of a polo and khakis, he exuded style from every pore.
“Shoulda known,” Cam groaned. “You mention food, and suddenly Bode appears.”
The blond grinned without an ounce of shame and rubbed his belly, which was so flat I could have used it as an ironing board. “What are we eating?”
“Dude, it’s not even nine o’clock yet. We’ve got hours till lunch.”
His eyes lit on me, and he flashed a smile with perfect white teeth. “You must be Mallori.”
“Yes, and you’re Bode, I assume.” We shook hands.
“The one and only,” he informed me. “So about lunch…”
The rest of the morning passed quickly. I met Journey—the woman whose job I would be doing while she was on maternity leave—and her wife, Lynn, who was the office manager. They were both sweet, and Journey assured me that she would show me the ropes, starting Monday.
The entire crew went to lunch at a local barbecue restaurant, and I’m not sure I’d ever laughed so much. Bode had me rolling with his stories, especially the one where he’d done a strip tease on top of Cam’s desk.
Journey and Lynn shared loving looks across the table. Woody and Taz pretended to fight over the last rib—she won, of course. The rest of the crew bantered back and forth, including me in their teasing comments.
I smiled as I forked up a bite of creamy potato salad. It felt like I was truly a part of this big, crazy family.
Cam drove me home after lunch. Or to Hawk’s house, which was going to be my home for the foreseeable future. Since I’d been living out of boxes and suitcases since I’d arrived, I decided to unpack, filling the dresser, closet, and bathroom with my things.
As I was neatly stacking my many pairs of dance shoes on a shelf in the closet, my hand hovered over each one.
Shit, Mal. It’s not that fucking hard. Just do it.