“I saw you guys kissing in the barn.”
My zipper whistled through the air as I yanked it up. “Stop snooping.”
She shrugged, but her eyes danced. “Hey, I was just checking to see if you guys needed anything.”
So glad I could be a source of entertainment for my restless sister. By falling on my face. A lot. “Yeah, we did. Privacy.”
“You needed a hose turned on you. Besides, this property is half mine. It’s not snooping when you’re part owner.”
“That half isn’t yours. I have to go into town. Will you be okay if I’m gone for an hour?”
“I’ll manage. How long do I wait before I call 9-1-1 so they can start looking for your body?”
“Cute.”
“I thought so,” she said with a laugh. “Hey, Cain?” she called.
I stopped one foot out the door. “Yeah.”
“Start with I’m sorry. Now say it with me…IIIIII’mmmmmm sooooooorrrrrry.”
I slammed the door on the sound of her cackling behind me. So glad I could provide her such quality entertainment.
I went back in my head to the moment the team circled me, giving me shit for Tilly’s addition, but it was Mayhem, the look on her face, the way she stood apart that had me hitting the gas, pushing the cushion local cops gave people over the limit.
Stunned.
I told myself she was calm. The anchor for her team, but I’d misread what that meant—how much she could take.
She’d been completely blindsided.
So much so her first instinct wasn’t even anger.
I climbed the stairs to her apartment first and knocked for a good five minutes, talking to the door, convinced she was in there but just ignoring me. I spotted her car in the parking lot so it’s not like she’d gone far, and after what I put them through on the track on top of her day job, she didn’t go for a walk.
Which left Banked Track. And maybe Patti on my side.
I found Mayhem perched on a bar stool with Rory behind the counter, their heads together, their faces serious.
Five or six other patrons lingered through the place as they wound down for the night.
Good, less witnesses.
“We need to talk,” I said, the words coming out harder than I’d intended.
And completely unwelcome by the two fuck-you glances Rory and Mayhem aimed my way.
Mayhem slowly straightened and held up her glass like a toast. “Well, if it isn’t Coach Flaming Asshole,” she said right before knocking back a gulp of her drink. “Have a seat. Rory, I’ll pay you extra to spit in his beer.”
Rory glared and scoffed as she dug her towel into a highball glass she’d just grabbed. “I’d do it for free.”
“I’ll pass on the beer. Thanks.” I might have better luck in a pit of cobras. I propped my foot on the stool next to Mayhem only to have her slice me a cold, hard glance.
“I said have a seat, but I did not say that seat could be next to me.”
“Are you serious?”
She turned her heavy-lidded glare back to her drink. “You have no idea.”