“You know where he means?”
“Yes, of course.” They’d often gone to the quiet spot near the river behind the privacy fence of her parents’ property.
“Tell Brand.”
“Are you nuts? Brand would flip out, and then he’d get all macho and protective and insist on going along, and since Scott doesn’t know or trust him—”
“He should trust him because you trust him.”
Unfortunately, her relationship with her big brother had never worked that way. She assumed he would always think of her as his little sister first, and a responsible, intelligent adult second. “I’m sure I can convince him, especially once he meets the guys, but until then—”
From behind her, Brand said, “Until then, you’re going nowhere without me.”
Sahara froze. Damn and blast, how had she forgotten to watch for Brand? She’d gotten so excited about seeing Scott again, about having his survival confirmed, that she’d been oblivious to everything else.
Through the phone, Enoch whispered, “Brand walked in?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll let you go.”
He disconnected before she could stop him.
And still Sahara didn’t move. She kept the phone to her ear, her thoughts rushing first one way, then another, as she tried to figure out how to explain.
Finally, deciding she’d just insist that she was the boss and this was her very personal business, she lowered the phone and turned to Brand with an artificial smile.
The smile vanished when she saw that he was on his own phone.
She heard him say “Leese? Can you get everyone together? Yeah, real important.” His assessing gaze met Sahara’s. “Your boss is planning to sneak out on her own to meet someone who may or may not be her brother.” He nodded, his smile grim, and said, “My thoughts exactly. Right. I’ll see you in an hour.”
*
ENOCH GAVE HER a look of sympathy as she entered his office with Brand and found Miles, Justice and Leese all waiting. They stared at her with mixed concern and resolve.
“Don’t you all have assignments?” she groused.
“Rearranged,” Enoch explained. “Leese has ninety minutes, Miles and Justice have two hours.”
“And Brand,” she remarked in a saccharine tone, “has all the time in the world to butt in.”
“That’s what I’m willing to take,” Brand said. “Your sarcasm.”
Realizing that he’d harked back to the discussion they should have had in the kitchen, she made a face.
“And I’m willing to give you all the leeway you need—as long as you don’t endanger yourself.”
Which meant no leeway at all.
“In turn,” he continued, “you could try a little trust.”
Seeing no hope for it, Sahara nodded. “You know I trust you.”
“Thank you.” To Enoch, Brand asked, “Got a conference room ready?”
“This way.” Enoch led the small troop down a hall to a private boardroom that featured a long table and ten chairs, a wall of windows overlooking the river, and a full coffeepot with cups, cream and sugar already set out.
Brand stuck close to Sahara, following her as she headed to the farthest end.
Disgruntled, she said low, “We were supposed to be talking about Becky.”
“Why? You agreed to try not to butt in, and I agreed to be understanding if you do.” Unlike her, Brand seemed to be taking everything in stride, and his inexhaustible patience made her want to scream.
He pulled out a rolling chair at the head of the table for her, then took the seat beside her as the others chose chairs nearby at either side.
She mean-mugged them, these men who worked for her—men she now considered friends.
They smiled back.
Damn it, they were all so wonderful, how could she stay annoyed? She knew they meant well, but they didn’t understand Scott. He’d run off again if she didn’t follow his directions to the letter.
As if he’d read her mind, Justice said, “Aw, buck up, buttercup. We won’t chase off your brother.”
“We can be subtle,” Leese added. “You know that, right?”
“And in case it isn’t Scott,” Miles explained, “we need to be there. You’re not dumb, Sahara. If you looked at this objectively, you’d admit we’re right.”
Brand leaned forward, his forearms on the table, hands clasped together and expression serious. “It’ll be okay, babe.”
The stiffness left her spine. Her life had been so much less complicated before these big, lovable lugs had entered it, but she knew deep down she wouldn’t trade them for the world.
“Enoch,” she said to her hovering best friend and ace assistant, “would you mind getting pastries to go with the coffee?”
He smiled in relief, recognizing the request as a return to the norm. “I already did. I’ll see if they’ve arrived yet.” He left the room with a new jaunt to his stride.
“We’ll wait for him,” Leese said. “After all, he’s the one who got the message, right?”
“From the PI, yes,” she said. “But I could just call him directly—”
“No,” Miles said. “That might tip off whoever contacted him—your brother or someone impersonating him. We didn’t all sneak in here just to blow the element of surprise.”
“Right.” She should have thought of that. “How did you sneak in?” Enoch had told her they’d come into Body Armor in a way that no one would know they had congregated. She had to admit, she was curious.
“Catalina drove,” Leese said. “Anyone could see her dropping me off near the parking garage entrance, but they wouldn’t have seen Miles and Justice, who were ducked down in back and entered low when I opened the back door to grab a jacket.”
Sahara nodded. “Very sneaky. I like it.”
“Sneaky,” Justice growled, “is you trying to go off without us.”
She held up a hand. “I’ve already rethought that and of course you’re right. I’m positive it is Scott, but on the tiny chance that it might not be, I agree I should have backup.”
“Well, hallelujah,” Leese said.
She turned to Brand. “I probably would have come to that conclusion on my own, so please don’t gloat.”
“Wouldn’t think of it.” His phone buzzed and he withdrew it to look at the screen, quieted it with a touch of a button, then put it back in his pocket.
Suspicion bloomed. “Who was that?”
Brand shook his head. “Not important.”
Before she could question him further, Enoch reentered with a tray of donuts, Danish and muffins. While he served coffee and the snacks, Sahara studied Brand.
She half turned toward him, asking quietly, “Was that Becky?”
He snorted. “After all you gave her, odds are she’d contact you before me.”
Feeling culpable all over again, Sahara looked down at her hands. “Then who—”
“So nosy,” he said in a mildly teasing tone, surprising her. “Actually it was Drew Black from the SBC.”
Her gaze shot to his, apprehension getting a stranglehold on her. She knew that Drew Black was the president of the mixed martial arts organization Supreme Battle Challenge, or SBC as it was widely known. “What did he want?”
Brand shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “I assume the organization want an answer about the next fight. I’ve been putting them off for a while now.”
Her chest tightened. Sahara knew she could lose him to the sport he loved, but lately, what he wanted mattered more to her than what she wanted.
Of course, Leese overheard. “Have you made a decision?”
Both Miles and Justice tuned in, waiting for his reply.
Brand looked only at Sahara. “The fight they want me to take is in Japan. I’d have to start training now to be ready, and there wouldn’t be much time for anything else. Those two things combined made the decision for me.”
Sahara frowned, paying little attention to the buzz around her as Miles, Leese and Justice weighed in, discussing the other fighter, the venue, even the payout in the contract. She wanted Brand to sign on as a bodyguard, but she didn’t want him to skip anything important to him.
He’d already been struggling with his self-imposed obligation to Becky, and she’d only added to that burden.
She cut through the conversation to ask, “You’re worried about me, aren’t you?”