Page 92 of Wilde and Deadly

Rowan arched a brow. “He’s not wrong. I knew from just the color it was deadly.”

Liam muttered something under his breath and took a sip of his toxic brew just to prove a point.

Davey barely registered the argument, the words turning into background noise as his gaze drifted back to Rowan. She was watching him—not the way she had a moment ago, with fire and fight in her eyes, but quietly, cautiously. Her arms were crossed, her weight shifting slightly from foot to foot. Her fingers flexed restlessly against her arms as if she didn’t know what to do with her hands.

For just a second, the worry bled through. The part she tried so hard to swallow down. The part that had been there since the moment he refused to let her run, refused to let her fight this alone—the moment he jumped headfirst into the fire with her.

The banter around them kept rolling, but the weight in his chest didn’t lift.

The coffee was the least of their concerns.

His gut churned, tension settling low in his spine as he braced himself for what came next.

One way or another, by the end of the day, he’d have his answers.

Even if he didn’t like them.

twenty-three

Davey expecteda lot of things when he walked into the café.

He expected Cade to be pissed. Expected the conversation to turn into a fight, maybe even come to blows.

What he didn’t expect was Cade Wilde, six-foot-three of tactical menace, bouncing a drooling baby on his knee while feeding her pieces of toast like it was a delicate military operation.

The Glock concealed under his jacket was standard Cade. The pink sippy cup? That was new.

He sure as hell didn’t expect Nova Wilde—small, chubby, dressed in a onesie that said “Daddy’s Boss”—to look up at him with wide, delighted blue eyes and immediately fling her slobbery teething ring straight at his chest.

Davey caught it, reflexes sharp as ever, but he was stunned enough that he nearly dropped the damn thing.

Cade, for his part, didn’t even blink. Just wiped drool off Nova’s chin with one hand while lifting his coffee to his lips with the other, scanning the room like he expected a sniper to take the shot the second he let his guard down.

The guy was holding a baby like a pro but looking at his surroundings like a battle-hardened operative. The sheer contrast made Davey’s brain short-circuit for a second.

“The hell is this?” Davey finally muttered, lowering the teething ring.

Cade barely glanced at him. “It’s called breakfast.” He tore another piece off the croissant and held it up for Nova. She grabbed it with a tiny fist, immediately stuffing it into her mouth.

Davey didn’t sit. He didn’t want to get comfortable. He wanted to get to the point. “You could’ve picked anywhere. Why here?”

“Because I don’t trust you enough to meet without witnesses.”

That shouldn’t have stung. But it did. “When have I ever given you cause not to trust me?”

Nova gurgled happily, but Cade didn’t answer.

Not that Davey actually expected the guy to. He pulled out the thick folder from inside his jacket and dropped it onto the table. It landed between them with a heavy thunk.

Cade didn’t even look at it. “If you came here to accuse me of poisoning Elliot, just fucking say it.”

“Did you?”

Cade finally looked up. His navy blue eyes were like a sheet of glacial ice with something dark and dangerous swimming beneath the surface. He never showed his temper the way others in their family did. No sharp words, no raised voice. Just that cold stillness. “No.”

Davey shoved the folder closer. “Then explain this.”

Cade still didn’t touch it. Didn’t even glance down. Just stared like he was waiting for the punchline to an unfunny joke he already knew.

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