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She’d been the distraction. Good thing she wasn’t the blushing type.
“I entered your place,” Lane told Beau. “He was pouring your freaking twenty-five-hundred-dollar whiskey on the counter.”
“Sonofabitch.”
“You know how I love that shit.”
Beau nodded grimly. “Me, too.”
“The prick had on a mask. Black gloves. When he saw me, he dropped the bottle and lit up the bar.” At his sides, Lane’s hands fisted and released. Fisted and released. “The fire separated us. He ducked back through the service door, and I could have either rushed out and chased after him, or…dammit, man, I know how much the place means to you. Another few minutes, and with all that alcohol, LeBlanc’s would have been gone.”
Beau grabbed his arms. “You don’t take risks like this. Next time, let it burn.”
A shake of Lane’s head. “No.”
“Yes!” A yell that came from behind Avalon. She spun around and saw a gorgeous woman with black hair glaring daggers at both Lane and Beau as she jogged toward them.
Beau let go of Lane. The woman closed in. She marched right up to Lane. Elbowed Beau out of her way. “You put out this fire? You did this?”
Lane shrugged.
“With all the alcohol in that joint, you saw the fire raging and you stopped to—what? Grab a fire extinguisher? To save the day?” Her voice rose more with each word.
“Pretty much, yeah.” His hands fisted. Released.
The woman threw herself against Lane. Held him tightly. His arms immediately flew up to curl around her. “You don’t ever take a risk like that again,” she ordered. “Didn’t you hear what Beau said? Seriously, try taking advice from him. Don’t do it. Not ever again.” A tremor shook her body. “You think a man is taking care of a little paperwork. You stop to pick him up some lunch because you’re amazing like that. Then you get to the parking lot and see a giant fire truck and hear that he put out the fire.” She tilted back her head and glared up at Lane. “I hate heroes. They suck ass.”
Lane’s lips twitched. “You love me, so you can’t hate all heroes.”
She hugged him tighter. “I swear, I thought I was getting the bad guy. You misled me.”
“Your office is upstairs, baby,” he murmured. “No way was I letting it burn.”
“Our office.” Her quick correction. “And someone had better start giving me answers. Now.” Another squeeze against Lane, then she let him go. Well, she technically grabbed his right arm, locked it around her shoulders, and then threaded her fingers with his as she cuddled close to his side and faced off against Beau and Avalon. Her eyes swept first to Beau—he was glaring at the bar—then to Avalon. Recognition filled her furious stare a moment before she nodded. “You.” Directed at Avalon. “Start talking. I like full sentences and lots of description.”
“I…” Where was she supposed to begin?
Police sirens shrieked.
Avalon jumped. “Beau saved my life when I was a teen?—”
“Not ancient history,” the woman cut in crisply. “We all know that part. Why is Beau’s bar smoking now?”
They all knew about her past? Avalon filed away that important detail. She parted her lips to respond?—
“Because some soon-to-be-dead dick set her home on fire last night.” Beau’s gaze was still on the door of his bar. “And I think he’s trying to send me a message. Stay away or your world will burn.” His gaze whipped to the dark-haired woman. “I don’t take well to threats.”
“No.” The woman’s hair slid over her shoulder. “You’re cool like that.”
“My world will not burn.” He stalked to Avalon. His eyes glittered as he glared down at her. “Nothing is going to scare me off. I can’t be threatened.”
But she was scared as she stared up at him. Her hand rose and curled around his right shoulder. “I don’t want you hurt.” He’d already been hurt enough, for her.
“Fuck pain. It’s just part of life.”
The woman cleared her throat. “It can also be part of death so…yeah. Let’s not fuck it. Let’s avoid it at all costs.”
A muscle flexed along Beau’s jaw. “That’s Ophelia,” he told Avalon. “She’s the best PI you will ever meet.”
