Casanova(42)

Within minutes, the tests showed that both were spiked.

Brett’s jaw clamped shut so tightly I heard his teeth clench.

Raven put the two strips down on the desk next to the glasses and looked at Brett. “Take them home. I’ll call your uncle. What did the guy look like?”

“‘Bout my height, decent build, long hair tied up in a fucking ballerina bun?” He managed to get out.

She grimaced. “That narrows it down right now.” She sighed and said. “Go out the back. Your uncle will send someone in in plain clothes like he did last time.”

“Last time?” Camille asked, hugging herself.

“It’s a bar. People are fuckheads. Can’t do a thing but try catch it.” Raven shrugged. “All right, look, you guys go. Cam, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Lani, it was good to meet you.” She smiled and picked up her phone, dismissing us.

Brett grabbed us and steered us out of the office and through the back hall of the bar. Neither Camille nor I spoke as he manhandled us out to the car and released her. He pointed to the inside when the door was open, and Camille didn’t need telling twice. She climbed into the backseat and slid along it.

My gaze found his. “Are you taking me home?”

“No.”

“What?”

“Lani, I’m not taking you home,” he said in a low voice, leaning his face in close to mine. “Have the bedroom in the fucking annex if you want, but you’re staying at our house.”

“I will be perfectly fine at home. I didn’t drink any of that.”

“Get in the fucking car.”

“Get off your fucking high horse.”

He took my chin in his hand. His grip was a little tight, and my skin burned where he was touching me. “Get in the car. Now.”

I smacked his hand away from me and got into the car. Honestly, I appreciated the protective actions, but he could have at least said please. Demanding I do things wasn’t the way to go when I didn’t even feel tipsy anymore.

In fact, I was a little too sober.

“Wait,” I said when he started the engine.

“Now what?” He met my eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Why is she calling your uncle?”

The mirror just caught the edge of his wry smile. “Because he’s the sheriff.”

Of course he is.





CHAPTER TWELVE


BRETT



I finished with Uncle Sam and left him talking to Mom in the living room.

Camille had found some pajamas to lend Lani and gone to bed. Lani had disappeared down to the annex, carrying her boots, almost immediately after it. She hadn’t said a word to me since we left the bar half an hour ago, and part of me didn’t blame her.

At the same time, a part of me thought she was a damn idiot for not just getting the in the car when I said so. I wasn’t throwing her in there to be a prick. I was doing it because I needed to get them both the hell away from the bar and the person who apparently wanted to hurt them.

It was that simple. Every fucking part of me needed to get them away from the bar.

What would have happened if I wasn’t there? No, fuck that. I knew what would have happened. They’d have finished their drinks and...

Jesus, no. I couldn’t even think it. I didn’t want to think it. It was too damn horrible to consider.

The worst part? I wasn’t even watching over them. The bachelor party had left twenty minutes before they returned to their table. I was watching Lani—just watching her.

Shit, I couldn’t take my damn eyes off her. I barely had all night. And those goddamn fuck-me boots were to blame.

I’d only said to her what I had outside the bar to mess with her, but once I’d said it...

Well, fuck. I wanted those damn boots wrapped around my neck. I wanted that goddamn suede against my skin as I licked her clit until she came.

That was what I’d been thinking about oh so damn gentlemanly when I saw that asshole walk past and drop something in their drinks. Yeah, I hadn’t even been actively looking out for them. I’d been thinking about Lani coming on my tongue.

Although, if I hadn’t been...

Dirty thoughts have silver linings after all.

I rubbed my hand down my face and walked into the dining room. The bar at the end of room was fully stocked, and I stopped when I found my father sitting at it, nursing a glass of whiskey.

He looked up before I could step away. “Join me?”

I paused. “Sure.” I walked across the room and took the stool a couple down from him.

He got up and poured me two fingers of the amber liquid before topping up his own glass. “Here.” He slid mine across to me and sat back down.

“Thanks.” I wrapped my fingers around the cold glass and looked down into it.

I didn’t realize it until now, but I was pissed off. I was really fucking pissed off, actually. At myself. At that dick in the bar. At Lani for being a pain in my ass when we left.

I sipped the whiskey, but despite the harsh burn as I swallowed, it did nothing. It didn’t even taste good, and this was good stuff. It was dull and flat and did nothing to warm the chill that was spreading across my skin. The hairs on my arms were standing on end, making the shiver than ran down my spine too strong to fight.

Dad peered over at me. “You did a good thing tonight.”