Page 12 of Catching Flynn

Zavier clocked the carrier’s body language, the casual posture, the easy smile, the way he’d handled the mail without hesitation. Nothing felt calculated. But he kept the man in his line of sight the entire time.

“I’ve never been to a beach.” Flynn took the brochure and studied it with genuine interest. “I’ve been to a lake. Once. I stepped on something sharp in the water and refused to go back in. It was probably a rock, but I’ve committed to the trauma.” He set the brochure on the counter. “If someone’s trying to lure me to a resort, they’ll have to pay for my therapy first.”

The carrier laughed. “Have a good one, Flynn.”

“You too.”

The door swung shut behind him as Flynn muttered, “One of these days I’ll remember his name.”

Zavier moved to the counter, resting his hip against it. “Is your personal mail normally delivered here?”

“My apartment building is on the same route as my job. Mr. Mailman is nice enough to deliver it here when he drops off the bookstore’s.”

“Who else knows your address?”

“It’s on my library card application.” Flynn pursed his lips, brows knitting. “My gym membership. I used it for a couple of online orders.” He ticked the rest off on his fingers. “My old therapist’s intake form. A few apps on my phone. A beginners painting class I chickened out of because I can’t draw for shit. Colton, and the guy he sent to sweep my apartment. Dude sucks, by the way. My floor still had a few dusty areas he clearly missed.”

“That’s…that’s not what sweeping means. Not in the context Colton used.” Zavier’s lips twitched.

“Sweep, swept, however you say it.” Flynn picked up his mail and thumbed through the small stack. “As nice as the offer was, broom handling is not in that guy’s wheelhouse.”

Flynn was so damn adorable. Zavier wanted to strip his mate naked, bend him over the nearest dusty shelf, and rub his scent all over the man.

Chapter Four

The sun was still shining brightly when Flynn clocked out at three Thankful Kate had actually shown up on time.

A thought struck. Flynn was off the clock. Zavier wasn’t. Which meant his bodyguard would be glued to Flynn’s side. In his apartment.

Together.

Just them.

“This way,” Zavier said. Heat erupted through Flynn’s entire back where Zavier’s hand was hovering.

Flynn quickly walked ahead, telling himself not to lust over the Dreamy Eyes. Zavier was there to do a job, not get harassed by a lonely and desperately horny client.

Zavier stopped next to a motorcycle built like it could endure a hurricane. You’ve got to be kidding me.

People died on those things. “So, where did you park your truck? Car? Bicycle? I’m flexible.”

Oh, he did not like the dashing smile on Zavier’s handsome face. There was too much mischievousness radiating in those blue eyes.

“That,” Flynn said, pointing at the hulking black-and-metal beast parked at the curb, “is not transportation. That is a midlife crisis with a murder budget.”

The motorcycle was low and dark, built like it had somewhere to be and didn’t care what was in the way. All hard curves and thick tires, chrome catching the light in short violent flashes along the sides. The seat was broad and black, lifted slightly in the back, handlebars angled just enough to mean something.

Zavier folded his arms, mouth tipping at one corner. “Her feelings are hurt.”

“Her feelings can recover without me.” Flynn took a step back and stared at the machine like it might lunge. “Absolutely not. People slide off those and become road crayons.”

Amusement warmed Zavier’s expression “I’ve been riding since they were invented.”

“Longevity does not equal a skilled driver. Just means you’ve become an expert at surviving crashes.” Flynn glanced up and down the street as if a more sensible vehicle might materialize out of pity. “Where is the enclosed option? Something with doors. Glass. Regret-proofing?”

Zavier slid his long finger over the leather seat like he was petting it. Maybe Flynn should give them a moment alone. “Your place is ten minutes straight through town.”

“Exactly,” Flynn said, wishing he was a leather seat.