When He's Bad (Walker Security Adrian’s Trilogy #2) - Lisa Renee Jones Page 0,63

take this to Blake. Did you bring home food?”

“Oh yes. The food. I brought us food. I left it in the vehicle. Are you hungry?”

“Starving. I’ll grab the food while I’m upstairs.”

“And wine. There’s wine. I thought we might need it and it’s my favorite, actually. I wanted you to try it.”

Because she is always thinking of me, and the truth is, she’s risking a lot for me. It’s not something I take for granted or take lightly. I stroke a strand of hair behind her ear. “Wine is good,” I say softly, my heart so damn lost to her. She owns me and I don’t even care. “I’ll stop by the downstairs kitchen to heat up the food on my way back here.”

“Sounds good,” she says.

I kiss her forehead—I’m not sure I’ve ever kissed a woman’s forehead, but then nothing is the same with Pri—and then head upstairs. I locate Blake at the kitchen island talking with Mason, who is a tall, muscular dude with lots of tats, dark hair, and a never-shaven jaw. He’s about as new to Walker as I am but we’ve only crossed paths a few times. But I don’t have to ask why he’s here. I can guess. He’s ex-FBI, and out of an East Texas office apparently, which makes him an asset. “Anything?” I ask.

“Nothing yet,” Mason says, pointing at the bag of food and bottle of wine. “Except that, which smells damn good. You better take it and run or I will eat it.”

“I’m still weeding through the security feed,” Blake interjects, glancing up from the feed. “How is Pri?”

“Confused,” I say. “And I don’t really blame her. Right and wrong get real damn confusing right about now.”

He arches a brow. “Are we leaving in the morning?”

“I’m not sure we know yet,” I say. “Anything from the field?”

“Mason followed Pri’s mother home after handing Pri off to Adam. She went straight there, no stops. He’s headed back and we still have a man watching the house. Savage is following Cindy. He has some weird vibe about her.”

“And Lucifer called,” Mason adds, smirking. “Grace asked him to dinner.”

Now my brows dip. “I’m confused. Isn’t she dating Josh?”

“Apparently she needs to confide in Lucifer,” Mason says sarcastically. “Lucifer’s a lady magnet. I wouldn’t count on that amounting to anything.”

“And yet Grace isn’t a flirt,” I say. “She isn’t one to go to Lucifer, the lady magnet, plus why not tell whatever this is to Pri?”

“We’ll know soon enough,” Blake says, moving on “I pulled a photo from the Millers’ security feed.” He turns his MacBook in my direction. “Know him?”

I study the tall, bald dude wearing a suit on the security feed. “No, and he’s memorable. I wouldn’t forget him if I’d seen him before.”

“I’ll text you a photo to show Pri,” Blake offers. “And I’ll get some facial recognition going on.”

I set the recorder down. “That’s what Pri’s mother gave her. It’s not overly helpful. And no, neither me nor Pri recognize his voice.”

Blake inclines his chin and reaches for the recorder.

“Anything from Royce or Lauren?” I ask. Chicago now on my mind.

“A lot of bullshit,” Blake says. “Lauren apparently started to curse when she never curses.

“Great,” I say. “Just great.”

“She’s meeting the DA in the morning. More then.”

I nod and head back downstairs. Pri, now in sweats and a tank top, meets me in the kitchen. “Anything else?” she asks. Her cheeks are pink and her lips swollen from my kisses.

The anything else I want is her naked and in bed again, but that will have to wait for later. “Nothing monumental,” I say, unpacking the food and popping it in the microwave before setting the timer.

“Nothing from your legal team on Chicago? I just tried to call Ed again. I think I’m going to have to have Blake intimidate him again.”

“Lauren’s meeting with the DA tomorrow. Nothing good happened today. Nothing much but her frustration from what I can tell.” I shift the topic. “Grace asked Lucifer to dinner, says she needs to confide in him.”

Pri blanches. “What? I’m confused. Grace doesn’t invite men to dinner and she tells me everything.”

I dig around in the cabinet and find us glasses for the wine. “They aren’t wine glasses,” I say. “But they’ll have to do. And maybe something happened after we left that set Grace off?”

Her lips press together. “It doesn’t fit what I know of her. At all.”

“Do you know this guy?” I show her the photo Blake sent me.

She studies

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