“It sounds to me,” Lars cuts in before I can exclaim my innocence again, “that you owe them a fuckload of money, so you’re probably the most wanted guy in the room right now.”

“Allegedly.”

“Actually.” St. Clare’s whole expression is teasing.

Lars shrugs. “In that case, if you want to help me protect St. Clare, I’m sold …”

“Really?”

“Really?” St. Clare sounds even more surprised than I am.

Lars laughs at us both. “Really, really.”

I perk up because if Lars is on board, then St. Clare must be as well. Surprisingly, he’s watching Lars, and I’m sure they’re doing that silent communication thing again, but considering how off base they were last time, I’m not sure why they bother.

“Does that mean you’ll let me out of these handcuffs, then?”

“Nope.”

I slump. “How am I supposed to be his bodyguard if I can’t even use my hands?”

“First, he has a bodyguard.” Lars points to himself.

“You? I thought you were his best friend.”

“Best friend and bodyguard.”

“But not boyfriend?” I reclarify.

He pins me with a stare. “You’re making me regret my decision.”

“Sorry. Continue.”

“Second, you’re way more dangerous with your hands free.”

I puff my chest out a little. “You think I’m dangerous?”

“Unintentionally.”

Urg. Way to build me up only to break me down again. “How am I supposed to prove to you both that I’m trustworthy when you have me strapped to a chair? And, more importantly, how am I supposed to trust either of you when you’ve put me in a compromising position? I can’t work under these conditions.”

“You don’t happen to have a gag on you, do you?” Lars asks St. Clare.

“Sorry, fresh out.”

“And now you want to gag me.” Again, I’d throw up my arms, exasperated with them both, if they weren’t out of action. “I’ve gotta say this team isn’t off to a good start. It’s really starting to feel like the two of you against me.”

“Starting to?” Lars is at least dropping the growly, angry man act, and even when he’s fighting back amusement, he’s like a giant teddy bear.

St. Clare rests his hands back on the desk and leans into them. “I’m a fan of a man in a compromising position, myself.”

“Does that mean I’m your favorite?” The thought brings a smile to my face. “You and me against old Lars-y boy.”

Lars runs a hand over his face. “Maybe I’ll pick up a gag when I’m out next.”

“I’m beginning to get the feeling you still don’t like me.”

“You think?”

“Come on … I thought I was winning you over.”

“When it happens, I’ll let you know.”

“Ah-ha. You said when.”

Lars catches his sigh. “Think I can talk to you outside for a second?”