“Bucko?” I repeated, trying hard not to smile. Sloane Walton was back, and she was ready to kick some ass.
“Oh, no, big guy. You better get that idea out of your thick head real fast. We’re as done as done can be. Last night meant nothing.”
“You’re wrong, Pix. It meant everything. And I’m going to prove it.”
She glared up at me. “Go away.”
“Do you all want us to eat these pancakes by ourselves while you fight, or can we talk like adults?” Nash asked, gesturing with a spatula.
“Let’s talk fast. I have to get to the library. See what can be salvaged and start the conversation with the insurance company,” Sloane said when we were all settled in at the dining room table with plates of pancakes.
The cat perched at the foot of the table, regally cleaning her ass.
“Now, Sloane, it’s an active crime scene. I can’t have you Nancy Drewing your way around. Especially not before we have the okay from the structural engineers,” Nash insisted.
Her jaw tightened.
“You said you know who did it,” I said, drawing her attention. “Let’s start there.”
“It was clearly either the guy who attacked me in the parking lot or the one who gave the orders to have Mary Louise roughed up,” she said, dumping the better part of a bottle of syrup on her stack of pancakes.
My knife and fork clattered onto the plate, startling the cat, who hit the floor like a bowling ball before stampeding out of the room.
“What did you say?”
“Uh-oh. He’s using his scary voice,” Lina noted.
“It’s none of your business,” Sloane said crisply.
“I’d like to speak with you outside, Morgan,” I said to Nash, ignoring her.
My friend shook his head. “Uh-uh. You don’t get to punch me in the face until after breakfast.”
“Then talk. Now,” I ordered.
“I was leaving a date, and some guy in a ski mask opened my car door, pinned me to the seat, and told me to leave Mary Louise alone. Does anyone else want more coffee?” Sloane asked.
“What?” I roared. This whole time, I’d assumed I was the one who’d put her in danger. But in reality, it had come from a different direction, and I could have been there to stop it. I should have been there to stop it.
“He’s gonna hulk his way right out of those pants,” Lina warned.
“Please,” Sloane scoffed. “Do us all a favor and drop the overprotective act.”
“You were attacked?” I said, looking at her.
“It was only a little attack,” she said with a shrug. “More of a warning than anything else.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” I said, pointing at Nash.
“Still no face punching until after breakfast,” he reminded me.
“Leave his face alone,” Sloane said. “I asked him not to tell you.”
“Technically, she blackmailed me into it. She said if I told you, she’d stick her nose into the investigation and make herself even more of a target,” Nash said.
“Let’s not forget that it’s none of your business,” Sloane pointed out irritably.
“You are always my business. You always have been, and you always will be. The only difference is now you know it,” I said icily.
Sloane snorted and looked at Lina. “I’m the one who gets a head wound in a burning building, and he ends up with the hallucinations.”
“We’ll discuss this later,” I assured Nash.
“Oh, I have no doubt.”
“Let’s get back to the arson,” Lina suggested with feigned cheer.
“Right. The back door was jimmied open, and the inspector found two gas cans under what used to be the pillow fort in the children’s section. Grave corroborated that the first floor smelled like gasoline when he got inside looking for you. The alarm system, sprinkler system, and phone lines had all been disabled.”
“Did he know she was inside?” I demanded.
Nash leveled me with a look. “We don’t know that yet. But her Jeep was in the parking lot.”
I would find the man responsible, and I would personally destroy him.
“We haven’t identified any persons of interest yet, but it’s early in the investigation,” he continued, cutting another bite from his plate.
The doorbell rang again.
“Stay here,” I ordered when Sloane made a move to stand.
I stalked from the dining room into the living room and yanked the door open. Knox and Naomi stood on the front porch holding a carrier of to-go cups and a bag of bagels.
“What the fuck are you wearing, man?” Knox asked, staring at my pants.
Naomi elbowed him. “Hi. We thought Sloane might want some breakfast.”
“Might as well join the party,” I said, hooking a thumb in the direction of the dining room.
There were hugs and platitudes and more than one skeptical look thrown in my direction.
“Can we get back to the topic at hand?” I demanded.
Knox smirked. “Now who’s the sweatpants-wearing whiner?”
“How long is it going to take to rebuild?” Sloane asked.
“Levi from Benderson Builders already stopped by this morning,” Nash explained.
“I talked to him too. Levi thinks he can get the work done in three or four months. He’s willing to start now so you don’t have to wait out the inevitable fucking around of the insurance company,” Knox said.
“You talked to him?” Nash repeated.
Knox shrugged. “Building’s got my fuckin’ name on it. I’m invested.”
“Three or four months?” Sloane looked pale. I reached out and gripped her hand in mine. Those green eyes swung in my direction. “What am I going to do?”
“Baby, we’ll figure something out,” I assured her. “We’ll find a temporary location. We’ll save what can be saved and buy new of everything that was lost.”
“Baby?” Knox muttered.
“That was a lot of wes,” Lina pointed out.
“You’re gonna be hearing a lot of both, so I’d advise you get used to it,” I warned them.
“Don’t mind Lucian. He’s suffered some kind of break with reality,” Sloane said, slathering a bagel with cream cheese.
“That’s it,” I said. I pushed my chair back and stood up. “If you’ll all excuse us for a minute, I need to have a word with Sloane.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she sniffed, cramming a bite of bagel into her mouth.
I dragged her chair backward and tossed her over my shoulder.
“This is not gonna end well,” Knox predicted as I carried the shrieking Sloane out of the room, through the kitchen, and out the back door.
Outside on the porch, we were met with the perfect spring morning. Warm sunshine, chirping birds, and a thousand new blooms brought her backyard to life.
Spring. A new beginning. A fresh start.
Just what we both needed.
“Put me down, you gigantic assface!” Sloane shouted.
I set her on her feet, noting that she’d managed to keep hold of her bagel.
“You need to understand something,” I told her calmly. “I’m not going anywhere, and you are my business because we’re together.”
Her gasp was one of outrage. “You can’t just tell me we’re in a relationship.” Her feistiness was back in full force. I took credit for that.
“I’m merely stating a fact.”
She shook her head vehemently from side to side. “No. You’ve clearly suffered some sort of head wound and are experiencing an alternate reality.”
“Sloane, we’re together. End of story. The sooner you accept that—”
“You expect me to be all like ‘okey-dokey!’ when you’ve dumped me twice now?”
“I was trying to protect you. I thought Anthony Hugo connected you to me and was going to hurt you! When you showed up at my office, I was fucking terrified that he’d see you there.”
“And instead of telling me that and coming up with a solution together, you kicked me out of your house, had me escorted from your office, and then proceeded to date an army of the most beautiful and talented women in the DC area?”
“I didn’t want Hugo to be able to connect you to me. If you were just one of many, he’d leave you alone. But it was someone else who wanted to hurt you, and I’m not going to let that happen.”
She was still shaking her head. “I want kids, Lucian. Actual children. I want a big, loud, messy family.”