“Of course.”
Confusion combined with curiosity, both of them pushing Kellan’s irritation to the wayside. “What update?”
Kylie split a glance between him and Moreno, her eyes remaining on the detective as she said, “I know you told me a lot of the details wouldn’t be public because the FBI is pursuing federal charges, but what you told me isn’t confidential or anything, right?”
Isabella took another slow breath, and Jesus, the neckline of her shirt was going to destroy him. Or at the very least, keep rendering him mute and mostly stupid. “No,” she said slowly. “The FBI is obviously keeping the details as quiet as they can since they’re pretty sensitive, but the charges are a matter of public record.”
Kylie’s smile turned cat-in-cream satisfied. “So you can tell Kellan what you told me.”
“I…guess,” Moreno hedged, although she didn’t elaborate, and finally, his brain overrode the dark, indecent part of him secretly wondering what she had on under that deceptively low-cut top of hers.
“Okay, you two. What the hell is going on?”
“You need to hear what Isabella has to say, that’s what.” His sister turned toward Devon, who come to think of it had remained suspiciously quiet for the last few minutes, and pulled him from his bar stool to his feet. “Come on, Dev. I love this song.”
Kylie nodded at the open space by the jukebox where a few couples had twined their arms and other various body parts around each other while they swayed to the slow ballad that had just started.
“You hate this song,” Devon said, his forehead creased in total confusion, but Kylie moved beside him and looped her arm around his.
“No. I don’t.” The smile she speared him with was one hundred percent lethal. “I love it. In fact, I think you guys should dance, too.” She pointed from Kellan to Isabella, her expression turning sugar-sweet. “It’ll be the perfect chance for Detective Moreno to fill you in on things.”
Kellan’s chin jerked to attention, his pulse tagging along for the ride. “Kylie,” he warned, but funny, it was Moreno who saved his bacon.
“I’m not sure us dancing is a good idea. I wouldn’t want to make your brother uncomfortable.”
“I’m not uncomfortable,” he argued, and Kylie’s smile became downright beatific. “Perfect. Then it’s settled. We’re all dancing.”
Fuck.
“Is your sister always like this?” Moreno asked after Kylie had tightened her squeeze on Devon’s arm, leading him toward the dance floor and out of earshot.
“You mean like a barracuda? Yeah, pretty much.” Kellan looked at the boot-scuffed floorboards, unsure whether to laugh or pull out every last hair on his head. “Sorry if she put you on the spot.”
“Oh, don’t be. I actually like her a lot.” At the look of surprise that had to be pinging over his face, Moreno added, “It looks like she gives you a run for your money.”
“I guess that makes you two best friends by default.”
Moreno’s unexpected peal of laughter tagged Kellan right in the sternum. “And I guess I earned that.”
Whether it was the sudden ease amidst all their tension or the provocative pretty-factor of her lingering smile, Kellan couldn’t be sure, but all of a sudden, he heard himself ask, “So do you want to dance?”
The words seemed to shock them both equally, and God, he needed some damage control, stat. “Uh, we don’t have to, obviously. But Kylie seems to think I need to hear this update, or whatever, right from you, so, you know…”
“Yes,” she said, blinking twice before blanking her expression and lifting one shoulder in an approximation of a shrug. “I mean, it’s just a little dancing, so sure. Why not?”
And wasn’t that question more loaded than a Glock at a gun range. Still, he’d asked (albeit gracelessly) and she’d accepted, so Kellan slid off his bar stool and moved toward the dance floor. Isabella walked right beside him, and even though he thought the transition to actual dancing would be chock full of awkward, she simply slipped her hands over his shoulders as his found her waist, their bodies neatly lined up and starting to move in slow, easy rhythm. Her caramel-colored hair spilled over her shoulders, teasing his senses with the warm, heady scent of coconuts as she adjusted to the sway of them dancing, and he instinctively spread his hands wider in search of something concrete to keep him grounded.
But all that did was increase their contact, and despite knowing damn well that he should, he couldn’t make his body obey the command from his brain to change it. Kellan inhaled, taking in the strong, lean muscles under the soft material of her shirt, the slight change in texture that signaled the edge of her bra beneath it, and fuck, he needed to put a pin in his emotions if he was going to have a prayer of making it through the next five minutes.