Austin chuckled and glanced back at her. “You still never gave me the ruling after our last trip to Albuquerque.”
She turned her mouth to the side. “The jury’s still out on that one.”
“I’ll go with her,” Ben offered.
Wheeler snapped his head around. “No, you’ll stay right the fuck here. Until Austin gives you back your keys after you tailed off and left Ivy to wander out unguarded—”
Ben stepped forward, his jaw set. “That wasn’t my fault. She shouldn’t have gone outside.”
Wheeler moved fast and Austin got between them. “And you shouldn’t have left!”
“Let’s settle down,” Austin said. “Reno?”
Reno hadn’t taken off his boots and his footsteps clomped on the wood floor. He didn’t like walking around barefoot, so he kept his shoes impeccably clean. April once got upset when he used an entire package of her Q-tips to clean the mud from between the treads. Later that same night, Reno brought home ten boxes of the cotton swabs to make amends.
Reno sniffed and looked warily at Austin. “Sorry, little brother. I’ve got a job. Someone hired me two days ago and I’m already behind because of Fox, so I have catching up to do. He paid half in advance.”
“For what?” Austin let go of Wheeler and turned around.
“I can’t tell you that. My cases are private.”
“This is going in circles.” I lifted my bag and opened the door. “I’ll stay in touch, but let me know which car.” I glanced at the row of keys on the wall.
A familiar tune filled the air and the chatter abruptly ceased. In the quietness of our secluded property nestled in the backwoods, the song “Bad to the Bone” was playing.
“What the hell is that?” someone asked.
When I stepped outside on the front porch, my eyes focused on an unexpected sight. Lorenzo Church was leaning against his black truck with his right leg bent and his foot on the tire. I didn’t know how a man could make army-green pants look so sexy, but he did. The white, long-sleeved shirt fit him so snugly that it outlined the perfection of his body. He had his arms folded, looking as if he’d been waiting for hours. Lorenzo had such a smooth and confident way about him—an assertive man who never seemed ambivalent about what he wanted.
When he saw me, he opened the passenger door.
“Never mind, Austin. I think my transportation issue has been solved.”
Denver squeezed out the door and leaned over the railing. “What’s he doing here?”
Austin peered down at me. “You sure about this?”
“I’ll never finish a journey unless I begin it. I’m not certain how this will end any more than you are, but I won’t be at peace until I face my fears.”
He touched the back of my head and his lips formed a grim line. “Do what you need to do. Keep in touch daily and let me know if there’s anything you need.”
Walking down the porch steps with my bag almost landed me in the grass. Lorenzo remained where he was, patiently waiting as I walked toward him. When I reached the driveway, he approached and took my heavy bag.
“How did you know I was leaving?” I asked.
He glanced over my shoulder and said impassively, “William has always been a chatty fellow.”
“So William talked you into it.” My shoulders sagged as I moved toward the door.
Lorenzo shoved my bag and cane behind the passenger seat. “No. He tried to talk me out of it. Caleb is now watching over my pack and this will be a good test for him. Let me help you in.”
I stared at his open hand. “That’s all right. I can manage.”
He chuckled warmly and shook his head. “Most women need help. It’s a big truck, Ivy. Use the side step.”
I put my right foot on the step and gripped the handle. Either his tires were oversized or he had a suspension lift so the truck was higher off the ground. When I stood up, I almost fell back until Lorenzo’s hands cupped my backside like a makeshift chair. He laughed quietly as I scooted into my seat. Goodness, how embarrassing. I’d slept with him, but for some reason, intimate gestures while fully clothed felt completely different.
I reached forward and turned down the radio, wondering if he’d deliberately chosen that song to blare in front of Austin. The Weston pack had gathered on the front porch and was watching with mixed expressions. I glanced behind the seat and frowned as Lorenzo got in. “Why do you have a skull and crossbones on your back window?”
“It matches the tattoo and no one will mess with my truck,” he said, slowly backing out since there wasn’t enough room to turn around without leaving tire marks in the yard.