Hell for Leather (Black Knights Inc. #6)(24)

Yup. And that sounded about right to Delilah. Then again, most things Mac said sounded right to her. It was hard for things not to sound right when they were spoken in that low, sexy, Texas twang of his.

Oh, pull your head out of your ass, Delilah.

“Yeah, well, good luck with that.” Ozzie harrumphed, and for a moment, she wasn’t completely sure she hadn’t spoken that last thought aloud. Then she saw Ozzie frowning at the laptop sitting open on the table in front of him. “The place is a ghost town.”

“All the better,” Mac muttered. He’d donned a fresh shirt, and he was swirling a stir stick in a piping hot cup of sludge…er…coffee. It had to be coffee, right? “Small towns are notoriously nosy. If Theo and his big, loud Harley rolled through, you can bet your bottom dollar he was noticed.”

“No.” Ozzie reached up to scratch at his mop of blond, fly-away hair. “I wasn’t being oblique. The place is literally a ghost town. Says here,” he pointed a finger at his screen, “that following some pretty severe race riots in the sixties, the town was mostly abandoned. Then, in 2011 when the Ohio River burst its banks, the Corps of Engineers evacuated most of the residents who were left. It’s possible Theo could have come and gone with no one the wiser.”

“Or there could be a handful of people still livin’ there who know everything about everything that happens in their town,” Mac quickly countered.

“Not to get off track,” Ali said, her bare feet up in her husband’s lap as BKI’s ugly, mangy, obese mascot of a tomcat attempted to balance himself on her knees while rubbing his furry face over her bulging belly. The feline was purring so loudly it sounded like a small plane about to take off. “But are you guys just going to forget about the man in Timberlands? The break-in and attack on Delilah seem awfully coincidental so close on the heels of her uncle’s disappearance.” She absently scratched the cat’s notched ears, causing him to ratchet up his purring to a rhythmic roar. “Or are those just my paranoid pregnancy hormones talking?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

“No, those aren’t just your paranoid pregnancy hormones talkin’,” Mac assured her. “And I’d just as soon bite a stink bug as quit lookin’ for Mr. Timberlands, but findin’ Delilah’s uncle has to be the top priority right now.”

“The top priority,” Boss interjected, “but not the only priority.”

“You have something in mind?” Mac asked, eyes narrowed in interest.

“I’m going to report the break-in to Chief Washington. Maybe his boys in the CPD can find Mr. Timberlands for us. If that’s all right with you, Delilah.” Boss turned to lift a scarred eyebrow at her.

“Hey,” she shrugged, “I’m taking all the help I can get. Obviously.” She gestured to the men and women gathered around the table.

“Good.” Boss jerked his chin. “That’ll let us focus all our efforts on the hunt for your uncle without completely allowing the guy in work boots to get off scot-free.”

And for the second time, gratitude surged so strongly inside Delilah that she felt overwhelmed. “I don’t know how—” She had to stop and clear her throat. “I don’t know how to thank you all for doing this. It’s just so—”

“Darlin’,” Mac’s deep drawl, not to mention that knee-loosening endearment, had the words screeching to a stop on the tip of her tongue as if they’d come equipped with a set of airbrakes. “I told you, that’s what friends are for.”

Friends…yeah… Except when it came to him, she wanted—she’d always wanted—something more. Ack! And we’re back to that, Delilah?

Okay, it was official. She needed a lobotomy, if only to silence that annoying voice.

“So who’s goin’ on this little fishin’ expedition?” Ghost asked, absently rubbing his hand over his wife’s pregnant belly.

“Well,” Boss said, “since Ali has been… What did you call it the other day, Mac?”

“Storked,” Mac replied helpfully. “Down in Texas, we say she’s been storked.”

Oh, and why did she have to go and find stuff like that so freakin’ adorable? What was it about the slow-talking, overgrown, Southern boy sitting next to her that she found so fascinating?

Uh, everything, she admitted woefully. It was absolutely everything about him. Damn it all to hell!

“Yeah,” Boss chuckled, slapping a huge, baseball-mitt-of-a-hand on the table. “You Lone-Star staters do have a way with words. Anyway, since Ali has been storked,” he snorted, “it’s a foregone conclusion Ghost will stay behind and—” Boss stopped in mid-sentence, scowling at Ali. “What the hell is the matter with that cat?”

The tom was now rubbing his entire length over Ali’s belly.

“He’s a frickin’ traitor, that’s what’s the matter with him.” Becky crunched down on her sucker, chewing angrily. “I’m the one who feeds him. I’m the one who bathes him. I’m the one who buys him catnip toys and cleans out his litter box. But do you see him over here rubbing all over me? No. No, you do not.”

“It’s not me he’s rubbing on,” Ali insisted, shooting Becky a placating look. “It’s the baby.”