She tilted her head to the side. “Why not?”
“We just merged with Fire, and we aren’t privy to all the information.” He sat back.
“But I thought you supplied the drugs, and they supply the guns.” She twirled her water glass around.
He smiled. “You jumped to conclusions.”
She squinted, disbelief filling her eyes. “I don’t trust you.”
“Nor should you. Why is your mother in a home?”
Alexandra sighed. “She has Multiple Sclerosis, and right now is having a difficult time. She usually gets better and then can live either with me or on her own until the next flare up. Right now, she requires extra care, and she’s getting it.”
Ah, what a sweetheart. “That type of home is costly.”
“Yes. Yes, it is.” Alexandra shook her head. “Who’s making Apollo?”
“Dunno.” Kell gave in to temptation and reached for her hand. Small boned, slender, very smooth skin. “Why are you a cop, darlin’? Is it because your father dealt drugs?” She couldn’t atone for the sins of her father.
She shook her head and then leaned back when Frankie deposited large plates in front of them.
Kell glanced down at eggs, bacon, and hash browns, cooked perfectly into a heart attack on a plate. The delicious aroma made his stomach growl. He glanced up at Alexandra to catch her quick smile.
“You figured oatmeal?” she asked.
He nodded. “Something like that.” Reaching for utensils, he happily dug in. Much better than pizza. They ate in silence for quite a while with a temporary peace easing around them. “So, why a cop?” he asked finally.
“You didn’t answer about the origin of Apollo,” she returned, sitting back with a sigh.
“Because I don’t know.” God, if he never ate again, he’d be content. “That was delicious.”
She reached for her back pocket.
“No.” His voice rumbled out harsher than he’d intended.
She paused. “Excuse me?”
“I’m paying.” Cop or no, he wouldn’t allow her to buy. Slipping a credit card from his wallet, he handed it to Frankie as she passed. Apparently the waitress agreed with him because she ignored Alexandra’s attempt to hand over a card.
Alexandra sat back and frowned. “I can’t let a known criminal buy me breakfast.”
“How known?” He leaned toward her. “You’ve surely run me as well as contacted the garda in Ireland. I have no record.”
She pursed her lips. “The Irish authorities haven’t responded as of yet.”
He wanted more than anything to kiss those full lips back into surrender. “I’ll give them a call and tell them to hurry it up.” He grinned.
She chuckled. “You are so full of it.”
Actually, he could have Interpol vouch for him if he just asked. Of course, that’d break his cover. “Trust me a little, Alexandra.”
“Absolutely not. You definitely don’t add up.” She crossed her arms. “Why did you meet with Bear the other day?”
“Bear is a good guy,” Kellach said, choosing his words carefully. “My family and his go way back.”
“Bear is from Ireland?” Alexandra leaned in. “Seriously?”
Kell shook his head. “No, Bear is from here. But he does have distant cousins across the ocean.” Well, kind of.
“So it was personal and not business?” She narrowed her gaze and studied him.
“Yes.” He captured her hand and tugged her toward him.
“Does Pyro know you’re meeting with Bear?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Hell no. When you look at me like that, I want nothing more than to strip you naked and kiss you senseless. You screaming my name would please me greatly.”
Her lips formed a perfect O of surprise, while a blush filled her high cheekbones. “You’re terrible.”
“I bet I could change your mind on that score.” He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. The woman was sexy and sweet and certainly didn’t belong undercover in seedy Seattle bars. “Are you continuing your undercover operations?”
“Why?” She yanked her hand away. “Am I cramping your organization?”
Feisty little temper she had. He wanted to turn that passion in another direction.
“Obviously not.” He accepted the receipt from Frankie and quickly dashed off his signature with a generous tip. His curiosity wasn’t quite appeased with Alexandra, however, and he wondered if he could get her to stay awhile.
The door opened, and three men walked inside. His head pounded. “Bloody hell,” he muttered.
Chapter 8
Lex blinked as Kellach’s expression went from heated to stone-cold. A shiver slithered down her back, and she turned to see who had caught his frosty attention.
Three men stared back at Kellach. One appeared to be in his thirties with black hair, light eyes, and a true fighting shape. An odd streak of gray cut a swath through his hair.