In A Fix - Mary Calmes Page 0,44

then did my eyes lift to his, our gazes colliding.

“Hi,” I repeated, sounding every bit as enthralled as I was, and addled, which I was not. I had a fleeting worry that my heart was going to pound its way out of my chest.

“I had a lot to say to you,” he told me, staring, leaning into my space to pour himself coffee as well. “But I’ll just start with, how did you know about his sister?”

“Lane? What’s happening with Lane?” Brig interrupted, joining us at the table, taking hold of Dallas’s shoulder. “Tell me.”

“Move your hand,” I demanded sharply, my voice cold, devoid of anything but menace and warning.

Brig’s eyes widened, and he released his grip at the same time as Dallas tipped his head toward me, giving me all his attention.

“What?” I snapped at him, annoyed with the rakish grin I was on the receiving end of.

“So possessive,” he said to himself, chuckling as he pulled out a chair and sat down. “I’m in so much fuckin’ trouble.”

“I’m sorry?” Brig asked him, taking a seat as well, Eric following his lead.

“Nothing,” Dallas muttered, pulling out the chair beside him before lifting his gaze to mine again. “Sit.”

I did as I was told, because even though it was just the one word, his tone was silky, boozy, smooth, like he wasn’t himself, almost drunk, even though I knew he wasn’t. It was me. I was having the lulling narcotic effect on him, changing what was normally fierce and demanding in him to something slow and easy. The fact that he was having the opposite effect on me, making me demand that Brig step back and not touch him, was so out of character that I should have been worried. Instead, I made sure that my knee touched his under the table as I slid into the chair. Brig and Eric were across from us, all four of us sitting around the breakfast spread as though on a double date.

“I assume,” Dallas began, picking up one of the large blueberry muffins off a platter overflowing with different options, “from Miss Finnel takin’ off with your brother last night, that she traded you in for him after she figured out that you were screwin’ your butler here, right?”

Brig gasped, and I could tell he was ready to blast the hell out of Dallas.

Eric was faster. “How dare you insinuate that––”

“Yes,” I said, shutting both men up at the same time. “The answer is yes.” To Dallas, I continued, “You can speak freely in front of Mr. Foster. He and Brig are together now, and as there are no secrets between them, we’d all appreciate you sharing.”

Brig and Eric both stared at me.

“That’s why Agent Bauer was asking, even if crudely”—I gave him a pointed look—“because if that’s not the case, if you’re not together, then Mr. Foster needs to leave the room.”

“Oh,” Brig said, putting an arm around the back of Eric’s chair. “No, we—yes, please, Agent Bauer. Eric and I are to be married, so feel free to discuss everything about the case with both of us.”

Dallas turned to Eric.

“Please continue, Agent Bauer. I won’t interrupt again.”

Dallas nodded, glanced at me, and then leaned back in his chair. “Croy was thinking, last night, that there had to be more to this case. He said that Lane couldn’t be what we believe her to be, that there had to be a bigger story, and you, Mr. Stanton, said that she’d been an activist but that she’d changed, and that what we thought we knew didn’t seem like her.”

“I thought so,” Brig said earnestly, “but I guess––”

“No,” he said, and then turned to look at me. “You’re wasting your time at Torus,” he declared, like it was a fact and not his opinion. “You have the instincts of a detective—you should go back to that and forget this hired-muscle bullshit.”

“There’s a bit more to it than that,” I assured him, taking half of the muffin he offered me. “I actually get to use my brain.”

He grunted.

“And you know as well as I do that being a good detective is mostly common sense and watching people,” I reminded him. “You just have to get a feel for someone and figure out their tell, their weakness.”

“Yes,” he agreed, his gaze all over me for a moment before it was back on mine. “Yes, you do.”

“So what’s Lane’s?” I asked, providing the lead-in for him.

He turned back to Brig. “Your sister is working with the