* * * *
“What was that all about?” Fisher asked Ford as they ate breakfast at the kitchen island.
“I’d say it had something to do with India’s phone and messages she was getting. I don’t know what was on them. Fenton was communicating with Silas and looking over India’s text messages. His comments obviously stemmed from what he read,” Ford said.
“He was jealous,” Flynn added and leaned back, using his finger to trace the rim of his coffee cup.
Fisher looked at them.
“Jealous?” Fisher asked.
“Isn’t it obvious by Fenton’s reaction? He saw messages from some guys who probably texted her. We don’t know anything about her life in Chicago, if she was dating someone. We know very little but what was in the file Dmitri gave us and of course what we could find out online. We know she’s wealthy and a hard worker. An entrepreneur who made her money from hard work and creativity. But obviously something specific pissed Fenton off. I want to know what it is. I want to know if she has a lover in Chicago.”
“What? No fucking way. She made love to us. There’s a connection between the five of us and all of you know it and feel it, too. Any jealousy or fear is from not knowing more about her. We can resolve that by simply asking her to tell us about her life in Chicago,” Fisher said.
“How about asking her what she’s going to do when Silas calls and says she can go back? Then what? She has a life, friends, things that we can’t offer her here in Pearl,” Flynn added.
“None of us, including India gave a shit about any of that when we had sex for the first time. Nor did we care every other time we’ve taken her alone or together. It will all work out,” Ford said.
“How the hell can you be so sure? Look at her. She’s a knockout, the whole package and then some. She doesn’t need us to support her financially or provide for her. Fenton was right to be pissed. We’re not good enough for her.”
“Fisher, now you sound like an idiot. She’s not like that. She is special and she wants this relationship. It’s our job to make her see how perfect life could be out here with us,” Ford added.
“We have a job to do, and that’s to protect her in case those assholes from Chicago come along. We’ll deal with the other stuff after,” Flynn said and then stood up. He poured his coffee out and left the room.
Fisher looked at Ford. “What are we going to do, commander? This team is going to fall apart if India leaves us and goes back to her life in Chicago.”
“What can we do, Fisher? We can’t force her to stay.”
Fisher looked down and chuckled then looked back up at Ford.
“I know a knot or two that can hold for a very long time.”
Ford chuckled. “Not going to work with a woman like India. If she wants to leave. If she needs to head back, then we have to let her go.”
* * * *
India walked into the main bedroom where her clothes were so she could change. The house was quiet and Fenton was going to do a perimeter check with the dogs. As she headed toward the dresser, wearing only the hooded sweatshirt Fisher had given her, she bent over to rummage for a shirt and pants.
“What are you up to?” She swung her head toward the door, shocked she hadn’t even heard Flynn approach. He stood there, arms crossed and leaning against the doorframe just watching her. How long had he been there? How did he do that? Sneak up on her and watch her without her even hearing a sound.
She placed her hand on her hip and one on the dresser for support.
“You scared me. How the heck did you sneak up on me like that?” she asked him.
He squinted his eyes and looked her over. “It’s an acquired talent.” His tone was firm. His expression matched.
Was he angry with her, too, over the text messages?
“Listen, I know Fenton probably told you about the text messages and being angry over them. As I explained to him, I have a lot of friends in Chicago and that included guys that like to flirt and say things. But it doesn’t mean I entertain those remarks.” She looked back toward the dresser and as she bent down to pull out panties and lounge pants, Flynn came up behind her.
He pressed his body to hers, wrapped an arm around her waist, and whispered into her ear, “I don’t want to hear about other guys wanting you. Wanting this body. It’s ours. You belong to us. Nothing else matters, India.” He kissed her neck and pushed his hand up under the sweatshirt and cupped a breast. She grabbed onto the dresser and moaned aloud, pressing her ass back against Flynn’s body.
He suckled her skin and then massaged her breast, tweaking the nipple before he maneuvered his palm lower.
“I don’t want to talk about the choice you’re going to have to make when the time comes to leave here. I do want to know more about your life, your profession, and your dreams, India. I want this time together to be important for you.” He cupped her mound, thrust his hips slowly against her ass, and she could feel the ridge of his hard cock.
She wanted things to be simple, but it seemed they were all worried about her leaving just as she was worried about leaving them.