In Rides Trouble (Black Knights Inc. #2)(38)

“So I figured it wouldn’t be long before you’d come looking for a little peace and quiet. Such as it is.” She made a face and glanced back at Franklin who was in the middle of facilitating a war between a lion and monkey, if the sounds he was making were anything to go by. “I also figured a nice, home-cooked meal wouldn’t go unappreciated.”

He squeezed her with his good arm. “You know me too well.”

“After all these years?” She threw her head back and laughed. “I guess I’d better, huh?”

***

“Where’s Frank?” Becky asked anxiously, standing behind the overstuffed sofa in the media room.

Angel turned down the volume on the big-screen plasma television and twisted off the cap on an extra bottle of Honker’s Ale as he patted the cushion beside him.

Oh gosh. That didn’t bode well. A sick feeling settled in the bottom of her stomach as she rounded the sofa to stand in front of him, hands on hips.

“Rock and your brother have gone to bed,” he said, his dark eyes soft on her face. The fire crackling in the corner grate filled the air with the smoky sweetness of burning pine logs and cast dancing shadows around the room. Still, there was enough light to make out his expression, and was that…?

Yep, that was pity plastered all over his handsome face.

Okay, and now she really felt ill. “That’s not what I asked.”

“I know.” He patted the seat next to him again.

Swallowing down the sudden urge to yank out her hair and scream, she blew out a frustrated breath and plopped down beside him, absently accepting the beer he handed her.

“He’s gone,” he murmured quietly.

“Where’d he go?” She tried to make her tone sound casual but realized she missed the mark when Angel wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze.

“Where do you think?”

“Well…crap.” She heaved a weary sigh, her shoulders sagging. “I guess that’s about perfect, huh?”

Angel didn’t answer. He just pulled her closer, laying his cheek on the top of her head.

Peanut strolled into the room. And after two failed attempts, he managed to jump onto the sofa, curling up next to her and purring loud enough to drown out the crackle and hiss of the logs burning in the fireplace.

Oh great. Everyone felt the need to comfort poor, foolish Becky.

Inexplicably, tears clogged her throat. She took a hasty sip of beer to try to wash them down.

“It’s kinda funny when you think about it,” she mused after a while, although the last thing she felt like doing was laughing.

“What is?”

“Well, here I was, determined to apologize for what happened, and Frank’s probably up in Lincoln Park doing the same. No doubt trying his best to explain the whole sordid affair to his girlfriend without making me look like a…like a…frickin’ predator.” She tilted the bottle back and took another healthy swig.

Maybe the best thing to do would be to get drunk. Just get good and wasted…

Of course, her troubles would be waiting for her in the morning. And they’d be compounded by a hangover.

“I don’t understand.” Angel pulled back to look at her. “What have you got to apologize for?”

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and slanted him what Ozzie liked to refer to as her patented well, duh expression. “Uh, for forcing myself on a nearly unconscious man? Does that ring any bells?”

“Yes, the scene is still very fresh in my mind’s eye.” She felt her cheeks heat. “But believe me when I tell you he knew exactly what he was doing. All those painkillers did was lessen his inhibitions.”

“Uh-huh,” she curled her upper lip, “that’s what all the college boys claim when the girl wakes up in the fraternity house the next morning and starts yelling rape. She wanted it at the time, your honor. I swear it.”

He shook his head. “What happened between you and Boss was not like that.”

“Just how do you figure?” she demanded. “You were there. One minute he’s sticking his tongue down my throat, the very next he’s sawing logs like a dadgummed lumberjack. I think that pretty much establishes me as the culprit. After all, I was still in my right mind.”

Angel took a slow sip of beer, regarding her through narrowed eyes. “Let me ask you this. Who instigated the kiss?”

“Um…”

“Was it you?”

She screwed up her mouth, replaying the scene in her mind for what had to be the thousandth time. Frank, looking at her so sweetly, rubbing his face against her hand, reaching up to pull her down…

“No.” She shook her head. “I wasn’t the instigator. I specifically remember him pulling me down, but—”

“So there you go.”

“What?” she sputtered. “That doesn’t change anything. He. Was. Out. Of. His. Head. I should’ve stopped him.”

“That we can agree on.”

She made a face and sank back against the cushions.

“What I’m saying is you shouldn’t take on the blame for this. I can assure you, Boss has wanted to kiss you for a long time, and he used the excuse of his inebriated state to do just that.”

“He’s wanted to kiss me? How do you know that? Did he tell you?”