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“Not really,” I tried, out-and-out grinning, “nude is classier. Nude is art.”

I’d gotten him to laugh, and I loved it. I laughed with him. “You know,” I told him honestly. “Having you two around all the time is the probably best perk about my marriage.”

It was the truth.

When I’d been told I’d have a full security detail, I hadn’t understood the need for it—still didn’t—but I hadn’t really thought much of it. I hadn’t put any thought into whether I’d like or hate the constant company.

I hadn’t realized, until I spent so much time with people whose company I enjoyed, just how lonely I was. How alone I’d constantly been for years.

I was finding out, for the first time in forever, that I liked having company more than I liked being alone.

It was nice.

Chester gave me a look that was outright fond. “And you’re my favorite body I’ve ever guarded.”

I waved him off. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I mean it. You’re always polite. You treat us well.” He looked at Vincent. “Back me up here, man.”

“I agree,” Vincent said simply, eyes on the road.

“And you’re not terrible to look at, either,” Chester added teasingly. “I’ve been working for the Castelos for almost fifteen years, and I’ve never enjoyed working for them more than I have in the past month.”

I flushed head to toe in pleasure. “Thank you,” I told him, feeling shy. “Are you not normally . . . friends . . . with the people you guard?”

He laughed. “No. No one usually bothers to talk to us. And I’ve never had anyone ask me if they minded where we ate.”

“Are all of the Castelos assholes?” I couldn’t help but ask.

He waved that off. “Not at all. They’re better than most. They’re just . . . Well, they are what they are. They’re old money, and we’re the hired help.”

I looked out the window. “Well, I don’t see it that way. You guys are my friends, and I like having you around.”

“It’s mutual, Duchess.”

We grabbed a quick dinner at a salad place I liked called Greens. The guys mimicked my order of kale salad sans dressing and all greens smoothies for the road.

“You aren’t going to like it,” I warned them when we got our food.

“Oh I know,” Chester agreed. “We did it to see what you have to live with. Maybe it’s more filling than we imagine.”

“You’re twice my body weight,” I pointed out. “It’s not even going to put a dent in your appetite.”

“That’s not the point,” Vincent put a rare word in. “If you can starve, so can we.”

I was amused more than anything. “It’s my job to maintain my weight. You guys need to stop worrying about my diet. I can either count my calories or do coke. Which do you think is better for me, Dads?”

Chester laughed.

“Not funny,” Vincent muttered, going back to his salad.

“Be honest,” I said when we were in the car again, headed home this time, “you’re both going to order takeout now, aren’t you?”

“Damn straight,” Chester agreed instantly. Just then his cell rang, and he checked it. His brow furrowed, his eyes shooting over to meet mine as he put it to his ear.

He answered with, “Chester here.”

I was stunned when I realized it was my husband calling him.