Page 22 of Catching Flynn

The human had no idea the lengths Zavier would go through to keep him safe and happy.

Flynn lifted his head then tilted it. “You know, when Colton said I was getting a bodyguard, I really wasn’t expecting this.”

“This?” Xavier sipped his coffee then set the mug down.

“You.” Flynn gestured at him. “The whole package. Competent. Bossy. Looks like an escaped romance cover. Possibly a rogue pirate.”

“You flirting with your bodyguard, Mr. Dunkin?”

A slow smile curve Flynn’s mouth, making his lips even more tempting than they already were. “Depends. Is Colton getting a discount if I do?”

“No.”

“Heartless.”

“Sue me.”

Flynn held his gaze, then his eyes darted away. The sight of that private little expression was getting harder to ignore. Attraction had been there from the second he’d walked into the bookstore, then the pull had struck, and Zavier had been a goner. But there was more to how he felt. Now it had texture. Flynn’s humor. His nerves. The way he tried to protect himself with words and still kept offering pieces of the truth anyway.

Zack breezed by with a fresh pot of coffee, pausing long enough to top off both mugs. “You two okay?”

“We have accepted our breakfast fate,” Flynn said solemnly, but the lip twitch gave it away.

Zack snorted and moved on, apron strings swinging behind him.

Once he was gone, Flynn picked up his fork again. “So what happens next?”

Xavier rested an arm on the back of the booth, gazing out at the early-morning traffic. The town moved at a slow pace, completely unaware of the apex predators walking among them.

But there was one who was tracking Flynn, learning him, and possibly spiraling because Flynn was no longer an easy target. Spiraling because the bastard didn’t know what Flynn was doing with his bodyguard.

Things would escalate. The guy would become careless. That would make him even more dangerous.

Time was running out and Zavier was no closer to learning their identity.

You go to work. I watch your back. We act like it’s a normal day. Like that note meant nothing.”

Zavier would’ve suggested quitting, but knew how much joy that bookstore meant to Flynn. The last thing he wanted to do was take away anything that brought his mate peace.

“So, same as I always do.” Flynn nodded. “At least it’s a consistent plan. The definition of crazy, but consistent.”

Under the table, Zavier tapped his boot against Flynn’s foot, just needing the connection.

His mate tapped back as he ate, but his focus had drifted to the same window, staring out, expression suggesting he was deep in thought.

Xavier tapped his foot against. Flynn glanced at him.

“No drifting. Stay with me in the present, kitten.” He leaned forward, forearms on the table. “What have I taught you?”

“Stop leaving my dirty dishes in my bedroom.”

Zavier chuckled. “You’re just asking for bugs.”

“I’m asking to be lazy,” Flynn huffed. “No one wants to take their dishes to the kitchen when they’re half asleep.”

“Your apartment is small enough—” Zavier sat back, refusing to have their ongoing debate in public. “The other lesson I taught you.”

“Be aware of my surroundings. Swivel my head.”