Under Pressure (Body Armor #1)

Miles stood from the couch. “Is that pizza I smell?”


Leese’s gaze never left Cat. “I promised you dinner.” He pushed the door closed and folded his arms. “So. What did I miss?”





CHAPTER TEN

IT WASN’T EASY to keep his attention off Catalina, especially when she looked miserable, guilty and mortified all at the same time.

From the second he’d stepped in, she’d been blushing.

Not because Miles had been rubbing her legs either. He swallowed back the growl that automatically came each time that particular image crawled back into his brain.

Miles’s casual “muscle massage” explanation had covered the scenario. Neither of them had looked involved beyond that, so despite his surge of possessive jealousy, Leese let it go.

In fact, he acted like it hadn’t bothered him at all.

He should win a freakin’ Oscar.

“Did you fill up on popcorn?” Leese asked her, seeing her pick at the crust.

“No.” She took a bite, her eyes wide and cautious and not meeting his.

Miles refused to note the tension and instead dug into his pizza. “Gotta tell you, Leese. I was expecting home-cooked. But this is good.”

With his attention still on Cat’s flushed cheeks, he shrugged. “I figured now that you’re between fights, you could indulge a little.”

“Yeah.” Miles wolfed down a slice in two big bites. “What’s the rest of that stuff?”

Cat choked.

Feeling unaccountably tender, Leese reached over and rubbed her back. “Chew your food.”

She glared, went redder in the cheeks and looked away again.

It was sort of sweet that she was so embarrassed. He couldn’t do a damn thing about it until after Miles left, which probably wouldn’t happen for another hour or so.

He could have left the lockbox behind, but after finding people in her house, he decided it might save her embarrassment by bringing it along.

What if someone else, one of the damned thugs, had opened it?

“I went shopping,” he said, to answer Miles’s question. “I’ll put it all away in a little bit.”

“I’ll do it,” Cat offered, ready to leave her seat.

Leese stopped her. “I’d rather you didn’t. Some guns are mixed in, a knife and a Taser.”

Her wide eyes rounded even more.

“No kidding?” Miles looked toward the pile again. “Sounds like a story I want to hear.”

Leese wasn’t sure about revealing too much to Miles, so he censored the story a little. “I had to check on a house—”

“My house,” Cat growled, her eyes narrowed. “And I thought we agreed you wouldn’t.”

Maybe, Leese thought, the new topic would help her to forget about her “toy.”

“It’s a good thing I did, because a few goons showed up.”

Worry rivaled rage, and finally she demanded, “Who?”

Letting her know it wasn’t Tesh or the buffoons who’d been with him, Leese said, “No one I recognized.”

Some of the tension loosened from her shoulders. “What did you do?”

“I disarmed them.” He glanced at Miles. “And since I didn’t have time to stick around for an interrogation with the police, I bound their hands and feet, took their weapons, wallets and cell phones, cut their clothes off them and dumped them out the back door in the snow, in their boxers.”

“Ha!” Dropping back in his seat, Miles cracked up. “Frostbite, dude. That’s harsh.”

Wearing his own grin, Leese explained, “They were flopping around like fish when I locked up and left. I figure they’ll get loose before they freeze. Ought to be interesting to see how they get home though. I drove their car back to where I’d left mine a few blocks away, but they won’t know where to find it, if it’s even still there. I left it unlocked with the keys in it.”

“Diabolical,” Miles praised. “I can see why you prefer this shit to fighting. It sounds like it’s a lot more fun.”

Less amused, Cat quietly asked, “Now what?”

“I have their wallets, so I’ll share the details with Sahara’s PI.” He thought about that, then said, “And I might do a little research too, see if I can make any connections.”

As if expecting the worst, she slowly closed her eyes. “How was the house?”

He sent Miles a look, letting him know to play it easy. “The walk was shoveled.”

Her eyes popped open. “Really?”

“Most of your mail was gone too. Only the past week’s worth or so was on the floor. I brought it with me.”

Puzzling over that, her gaze drifted away.

“Electric still on, water running. The curtains were all pulled.”

She said nothing.

“Other than a few dead plants—” and an audio bug in your lamp “—everything seemed okay.”

Her face fell. “My plants are dead?”

That’s what bothered her most? He looked at Miles and saw his friend bite off a grin.

“I’ll buy you new plants.”

She let out a heavy breath. “No, it’s okay.”

He knew that, but did she? The fact that people had intruded into her home, not just the assholes from today, but whoever had been collecting her mail, would have to leave her feeling even more helpless.

On the drive home, he’d called Sahara and given her details from the drivers’ licenses. They were likely fake, but who knew? He’d chase down every detail he could.

By morning, Sahara’s people should have some news for him. Until then, there wasn’t much either of them could do.

When Miles gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze, she smiled her gratitude at him.

He’s a friend, Leese reminded himself. You trust him. But jealousy had a way of destroying logic.

“So,” Leese said. “That was my day. Now let’s hear about yours.” He tried a smile that felt just a little like a warning. “Other than massages, what’d you two do?”

Eyes back on her pizza, Cat said, “Watched fight videos and talked about you.”

Shifting his gaze to Miles, Leese asked, “Is that right? What’d you tell her?”

“That you were a shithead when I first met you.” He grinned. “But you’re okay now.”

Leese felt Cat watching him. “I can’t really disagree, now can I?” He hated the truth, but he wouldn’t run from it, and he wouldn’t lie. Back then, he’d been a punk—a punk who almost got a very nice girl hurt. It still sickened him to remember it.

Going serious, Miles said, “It was short-lived, and hey, we’ve all been there a time or two.”

“Not all.”

“Okay, so Cannon is a saint. He’s also out of the norm, so he doesn’t count. The rest of us have had our moments.”

“Cannon?” Cat asked. “He’s one of the fighters, right?”

“Cannon Colter. His nickname is Saint,” Miles explained, “and it suits him. He’s a freaking paragon, and a hell of a great fighter.”

“It is such a fascinating world,” she said, and then to Leese, “But you’re so good at everything, I can’t imagine you not being perfect too.”

He laughed.

Miles said, “Had the same reaction. You’ve got the poor girl completely deluded.” He gave Leese a friendly shove. “You should probably keep it more real than that, let her know you’re a flesh-and-blood male.” He winked at Cat, then pushed back his chair and stood. “Time for me to go. I have a long drive home.”