Page 13 of Avenging Angel

Mental note: A girl can be sassy, but no one should be cocky.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

Mason sat back too, in order to be more comfortable when he shared, “This is Nightingale Investigations and Security.”

“Okay,” I said slowly.

His lips quirked like he found me amusing.

The gall!

Even if I couldn’t bust open a door, I was kickass, not amusing!

At this point, Jackson moved. He lifted his hands and pretended to type on the keyboard.

He did this saying, “Look it up when you get home.”

First, I was glad I was going home. I mean, it didn’t seem in question, considering the cops just let these two dudes go, didn’t ask me a single question, not even my name. And thinking about it, something I didn’t have time to do with a six-year-old attached to me, the police had treated them with respect from the minute they’d showed.

Like, all kinds of respect.

But still.

Second, it was every shade of annoying he was making fun of my pretend typing.

I shot him a glare.

My glare hit his badass forcefield and became imaginary butterflies that flitted away, or at least that was what I imagined considering his stoic (but gorgeous) face registered nothing from being the target of my glare.

Ugh.

“We have three offices,” Mason kept talking. “One in Denver, one in LA, and a new one.” He pointed to his desk. “Here.”

“Right,” I said tersely.

So that explained the boxes and wrapped furniture.

“Are we hanging so I can help you unwrap the furniture and position it?” I inquired. “Because that might have to wait for tomorrow. I need a malt, then a bubble bath.”

Though, I was probably out of luck with the malt. Lenny’s closed at ten. I needed to get moving if I was going to make it.

Mason again looked over his shoulder at Jackson.

Mason still seemed amused.

Jackson did not.

Mason came back to me. “See, this is the thing.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the thing.

He told me anyway. “We have experience with people like you. Namely,womenlike you.”

Oh boy.

I might be getting mad.

“You don’t know what kind of woman I am,” I retorted.

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