Dirty Love (Dirty Girl Duet #2)(13)

What is it about him? Why do I feel like being around him paints my life with a completely new layer of happy I can’t get anywhere else?

“I don’t even need you to answer to know you’re one of the rare category-three women. And somehow I’m always a day late and a dollar short when it comes to finding them. You’re really hung up on this Hollywood guy, aren’t you?”

My head jerks up and a french fry goes flying across the table, narrowly missing Logan’s arm to land on the floor.

“You don’t have to throw food at me just because I’m right.”

I bite my lip to stifle the laugh. “I can’t believe I just did that.” Standing, I move to clean it up, but Logan’s hand stops me.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not the first fry to end up on this floor, and it won’t be the last.”

He waits until I resettle in my seat to ask his question again. “So, it’s serious with this guy? Holly seemed to think so.”

“Does Crey know you talk to Holly about stuff like this?” I have a hard time believing my possessive big brother would be cool with this guy being chatty with his wife.

“Who do you think told her to set up a second line of defense after you slipped away from the retired Rambo?”

Of course, Crey would.

“Look, I don’t want to talk about Cav. I don’t know what’s going on there, mainly because . . . well, you can’t build a relationship on a lie.”

Logan pauses, his hand on his beer mug. “Normally I’d agree, but something drew you in about this guy. So, why would you give up that easily? Just throw in the towel and not demand an explanation?”

I shrug, my shoulders hunched over the plastic basket, my burger and fries suddenly looking less appetizing. “I’m not exactly in any position to demand an explanation while I’m on lockdown in Kentucky.”

Logan lifts his beer to his lips, but before he drinks, he says, “I’m sure you’ll get your chance, Greer. It’s up to you what you make of it.”





Banner was harder to find than I expected. I didn’t have her number, and her office wouldn’t give me her address—apparently New York isn’t impressed with Hollywood fame, so I had to turn to social media. Thankfully, she posted a selfie a half hour ago and tagged the location.

I’m on the hunt, and I’m not leaving until I have a lock on Greer. Creighton Karas has the resources to send her anywhere, as is clear from our trip to Belize. But it’s even more clear that Greer would let him send her anywhere. She follows her brother’s orders too well, in my opinion, especially when his orders are contrary to mine.

This time, I won’t give her a choice. She’ll hear me out. I’m a man on a mission, and I’m willing to step over the line to get what I want from her. Greer has no idea what’s coming, but she will soon.

I walk into Jamison’s Pub, thankful that Banner isn’t spending time at some ritzy martini bar where I’d be recognized within moments. Jamison’s is a neighborhood bar, and it’s packed tonight. She’s sitting on the lap of a skinny guy who obviously has no idea what to do with a woman of her caliber. Poor sap. She’ll take what she wants from him and won’t leave her number in the morning. That’s my expert assessment of the situation, anyway.

I stop at the end of the booth and clear my throat to get their attention. Banner pulls her mouth away from the man’s neck, and he looks shell-shocked.

“Whoa, Hollywood. You got some hella big balls to stand in front of me. Hope you’re ready to lose them.” She hops off the man’s lap and reaches for a dinner knife. “You f*cked with the wrong girl, because I will cut you for hurting her.”

A shard of guilt lances through me at the memory of Greer’s face twisting in pain. It’s the last thing I wanted, and yet I’ve always known it was inevitable. But she was supposed to let me pick up the pieces and fix things—not let her brother drag her off to God knows where.

“Uh . . . maybe you should put the knife down.” This comes from the guy adjusting his glasses and trying to smooth his hair back into its faux-hawk style after being destroyed by Banner’s wandering hands.

“No. This guy needs to pay.”

She doesn’t expect me to reach out and yank the knife away from her. Once I’ve liberated it, I slip it into my pocket.

“What the f*ck, dude?”

“Where is she?”

Banner crosses her arms and glares at me mulishly. “Why would I tell you a damn thing?”

“Because I’m gonna make things right.”

Uncrossing her arms, Banner props her hands on her hips and tilts her head. “How the hell could you possibly do that? From what I hear, you’ve been lying since day one. She trusted you with her ass, and you broke that sacred trust. There’s no coming back from that.”

The guy coughs out a laugh, and my gaze cuts to him. “You repeat a word of this conversation and you’ll end up floating in the East River.”

His eyes go wide, and a flash of appreciation lights up Banner’s. Sensing my in, I seize it.

“I’ve done nothing but protect her. Even from myself. Let me fix this. Tell me where she is.”

Banner’s phone buzzes where it sits on the table.