Security strategies

EDWARD

Laughter filled the small kitchen, where we often stayed up late at night. Kensington Manor had several kitchens: a large, chrome one that the chefs used to cater for the family, a show kitchen in the main part of the mansion that I had only seen used during events as a sort of halfway point for the wait staff, and this cozier kitchen that the brothers used for their own snacks. Still, it was bigger than my one kitchen and certainly better stocked. One thing I loved about the Kensington house was that they fed me like a king, even if I wasn't one of them.

Mark took some beers from the fridge and handed them out. I turned them down. Unlike the brothers, I was on the clock. It was easy to forget for a few minutes, to pretend I was one of them, but soon someone would give me an order or a task and my place in the organization, and in their house, would come creaking back.

"I'm going to get a glass of water," I said, pouring myself something before leaning against the counter again. My presence had been most needed in the wedding preparations. My task? To make sure everything went smoothly. Both the Kensingtons and the Harrisons had a whole horde of enemies who would like to thwart their attempted union. All hands were on deck to make sure the wedding went off without a hitch.

Harry was his usual self. "Everything is ready for Saturday. The cars will arrive at twelve o'clock and take us to the chapel at half past one. Our security company will handle the route and they will also be present at the chapel."

"Yes, I've briefed everyone and they know they've got their asses on the line if they screw up," said Chase , tossing a peanut in the air before catching it.

"The suits have arrived and you should have done the last test by now." Harry looked at Chase , who gave him a sheepish smile. He always skipped anything he found boring." If you haven't, get on it."

Chase groaned, downed the beer and headed for the door. "She doesn't even want to marry him-why would she care if my suit fits him?"

"Dad will care. I'll care. Go get it done." Harry exercised his eldest son privileges, again. They might all be brothers, but that didn't stop the hierarchy from being very succinct. Harry was the eldest after stepping in after his older brother's passing. Then Mark . Amelia is next in order of age, but women come last in crime families. Appreciated often, but not given any real responsibility. They definitely hadn't caught up with the new millennium. Chase was next in line. He was the youngest male and his absolutely perverse level of "I don't give a fuck" showed it. Then Mery , the youngest of the family. It seemed crazy to me that they were all still living at her father's house, even though they were in their twenties and thirties. But I guess if I had a huge mansion surrounded by people who love me, I'd be reluctant to leave too.

"Edward , you're on Amelia patrol tonight and tomorrow night. He's been acting weird. I want you out of her room all night, so get some sleep early. She's covered until ten o'clock tonight and then you're on duty" . Harry buttered the crunchy toast as he spoke. Epic chefs at their beck and call, but still a slice of hot buttered toast appealed to them. Rich people are wild.

"Roger that, Harry." Even the water tasted better, chilled from their expensive fridge and in condensation-covered glass bottles.

"Okay, Marcos , come with me . We need to go back over the marriage contract to make sure William hasn't slipped in some wording that screws us. The lawyer should be here by now."

Silence surrounded me as they left and I sighed. They treated me pretty well for a bunch of criminals, but I always felt bad for them. I hated wishing desperately that they would take me in. That they needed me.

I pulled out the bread and made myself some toast. The night was going to be a long one.

"I'll have some if you make it." My shoulders shrugged as Amelia's sweet, lilting voice enveloped me.

Of course. The mood of the room changed as she entered, her perfume wafting in and mingling with the smell of toast. She always wore too much, what would she smell like without it? I was assaulted by the thought of having my face pressed against her neck and quickly shook it out of my head, "Fuck, Edward , she's about to get married."

I soon passed her a plate of toast and she leaned on the counter next to me, shooting me the occasional glance as we ate in awkward silence.

"I hear you're going to watch me tonight "

"Yeah."

"I'm a little old for that, don't you think? She blinked through her long lashes, her green eyes the dullest they'd been since they announced their wedding.

"I'm just following orders." I shrugged and tried another bite.

"I like taking orders," he snorted. The toast got stuck in my mouth and I nearly choked. My eyes flew to his face and his cheeks flushed pink.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that." Because I would end up hard as a rock if I kept thinking of her obeying. Of her on her knees and following my instructions. Fuck.

" But I did." Amelia turned her body toward me and reached out, gently sliding a finger down my chest as I froze. Everything in my brain flashed red with a huge warning sign of danger. What was going on, had you never thought about it?

I'd be lying if I denied ever fantasizing about her-how could I not? Her small, curvaceous, soft lines begged to be enveloped by hardness. The band of freckles over her nose was a fucking delight. And those eyes-those eyes blinking at me? I'd dreamed of those eyes.