Taboo Boss - Natasha L. Black Page 0,31

grabbed the jeans and polo from inside that I planned on wearing today. As I stepped into the jeans, I turned back toward Amanda. I unfolded the shirt and was about to pull it on when I caught her reflection in the laptop screen. I could swear she was staring at me.

I pulled the shirt on, and the screen changed to something with a white background, eliminating my ability to see her reflection. I gathered up my keys and wallet, stuffing them in my pockets, and walked up beside her. She looked up at me with a slight smile, and I wondered if she really was watching me get dressed.

“I’m going to brush my teeth and head out to see my brothers. Will you be okay here alone?”

She nodded and I went into the bathroom, dialing my mom’s house phone out of instinct. Matt answered after a couple of rings.

“Hey, Tom, what’s up?” Matt asked.

“I just got a call from my PI,” I said, turning the water on. “Danny burned down a bar before ours.”

“What?” Matt said, confused.

“That’s what we think happened, at least. Who else is up?”

“No one. Just me,” Matt said, and I noticed he sounded a bit groggy. It was still early, and the rest of my brothers were used to the long nights of running a bar, and the late mornings afterward. I had to remind myself that the world didn’t get up with me at six.

“Get everyone else over there. I’m heading over,” I said and hung up. I brushed my teeth and headed out of the door, waving to Amanda as I left.

The short drive gave me enough time to think through what Dallas had said. While it was an extraordinary coincidence that two bars near him, two bars he was in competition with no less, had burned down, it wasn’t proof he had anything to do with it. But it certainly seemed fishy.

I pulled into the driveway and shut the door, noticing movement through the curtains. Rather than knocking on the door, I turned the knob, and to my surprise it opened easily.

All of my brothers were there, though in varying stages of consciousness it seemed, and the smell of coffee and bacon was strong. Matt was in the kitchen doling out plates, and Mason stood closest to the door, an entire pot of coffee in his hand.

“Coffee?” he muttered before I even shut the door.

“Yes,” I said. “Everybody needs coffee. Let’s go to the dining room.”

“Where’s Mom?” I asked.

“Still sleeping,” Tyler responded.

I took a seat at the head of the table, and the guys filtered in around me. Jordan brought a plate and sat it in front of me. Eggs and bacon piled high, much like the one in front of him and another in front of Matt.

“Thanks, Jordan,” I said.

He waved me off, stuffing eggs into his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten in a year.

“So,” Mason said as a way of beginning the conversation. “What’s so important we all had to get up at”—he checked his watch— “seven in the morning?”

“Well, for one, that’s not a crazy early time for people who aren’t used to running a bar every night. And for two, I told Matt. Did he not clue you guys in?”

Everyone shook their head, and Matt looked up from his plate of already rapidly disappearing eggs.

“No, figured I’d let you tell them,” he said.

“Right,” I said. “My PI got some information about Danny. Apparently, he owned a bar before this one in another town. And he had a rival bar there, too, and it just so happened to burn down one night.”

“No shit,” Jordan said, dropping his fork. “I knew it, I knew it!”

“Hold on,” I said, putting my hands up to stop him, to very little success. He was already standing and starting to pace.

“I knew that old fucker would be behind this. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. Hell, less. Why don’t we go down there and find out exactly?” he asked, his voice rising as he got more intense.

“Jordan, chill,” Mason said, and Jordan’s eyes snapped to him. “You said the bar happened to burn down but did anyone ever implicate Danny?”

“As far as I know, no,” I admitted. “Dallas is digging into it further today.”

“So, it really could be a coincidence,” Tyler said.

“Or the first bar gave him an idea for the second,” Matt muttered.

“Either way,” I said, cutting in, “Mason has a point. We don’t know for sure.”

“So,