In Rides Trouble (Black Knights Inc. #2)(40)

He grinned and wrapped his good arm around her shoulders, planting a kiss in her hair—mmm, vanilla. The smell would always remind him of home, and she always knew just what to say to make him feel better.

“I love you, you know,” he told her.

“Yeah,” she sighed, leaning into him, “I know.”

***

Bill paced back and forth in his loft bedroom on the third floor of the shop, his worn copy of Moby Dick open on his bed, his cellular phone gripped tightly in his hand.

Should he call her or shouldn’t he?

He’d seen the news coverage and the interview she and his sister had given. To anyone who didn’t really know her, Eve’d looked poised and unflappable.

To him? Man, she’d been a wreck.

She hated the press, hated the spotlight, hated having her life flayed open for public perusal, and then there’d no doubt been the cross-examination by her father…

Why do you even care?

Yes, that was the question of the day, wasn’t it? Why did he care? “Goddamnit!” he cursed and rubbed at his complaining stomach before jerking open the door and sticking his head into the hall.

He was hoping to see a light on under his sister’s door, but…

No luck.

He went to pull his head back in when he caught the soft murmur of voices and the warm flicker of firelight coming from the media room.

Padding on bare feet down the hall’s warmly polished wood floors, he jerked to a shocked halt at the doorway to the media room. He had a crystal clear view of the back of the extra-long couch and two heads tilted very close together. The smoky-sweet scent of burning pine logs filled the large space, tinged with the earthier aroma of hops and barley.

What’s this? His sister and the mysterious Mossad agent sharing a beer and cuddling on the couch in front of the fire?

Not if he had anything to do with it!

Oh sure, Angel had handled himself like a pro out in the field, had been quick and agile and rock steady. The guy appeared to be well-educated and well-read—unlike a lot of meat-headed, spec-ops bozos. And, on top that, Angel had been willing to risk his life to save Becky’s, but all that didn’t add up to the kind of man Bill wanted dating his sister.

Not by a long shot.

Because Angel and his past were still a huge question mark, and if there was one thing he didn’t like when it came to his baby sister, it was question marks.

Before he could take a step into the room and demand to know just what the hell was going on, Angel called out, “Come on in and join us, Bill.”

The dude hadn’t turned his head, hadn’t flinched, hadn’t so much as missed a beat in the conversation he was having with Becky.

Whoa. Can you say spooky, boys and girls?

Of course, Bill was used to working with spooky men. In fact, some might even consider him a bit spooky…

Coming to stand in front of them, he narrowed his eyes at the hand resting on Becky’s shoulder. But instead of doing the smart thing and removing the offending appendage after accurately reading Bill’s blatant get-your-goddamned-hands-off-my-sister expression, Angel simply allowed one corner of his mouth to quirk.

Oh, you’ve got balls. Huge, suicidal balls.

Bill experienced a pressing need to jerk the guy up by his collar and demand to be told just exactly what his intentions were toward Becky. Unfortunately, he’d already tried that on one or two of Becky’s suitors and had paid the price for it.

His kid sister was diabolically devious and frighteningly inventive when it came to retribution, and his meddling in her affairs—especially her love life—always called for retribution, at least in her mind.

Stubborn, prideful, vengeful woman.

He swallowed back the words perched on the tip of his tongue, and he shoved his cell phone at his sister. “Call her.”

“Huh?” She wrinkled her nose, blinking up at him.

“Call Eve. Make sure she’s okay.”

“Billy,” she rolled her eyes, “Eve’s probably fast asleep.”

“Nope,” he shook his head, waving the phone at her until she huffed and snatched it out of his hand. “She’s probably rehashing the interview with the reporters and the interrogation by her father and gnawing the living shit out of her thumb. She needs someone to reassure her that she did the right thing today, lying to the press and Daddy Dearest.”

“You’re nuts.”

“Yeah, and I’m also right.”

She scanned his face for a brief moment before grumbling something unkind about his lineage, which was kind of funny considering she happened to share those same ancestors.

“Fine. I’ll call her. But when I rouse her from a dead sleep, I’m letting you make the apologies.”

“Fine.” He crossed his arms over his chest, watching her punch in the numbers and trying to ignore his burning ulcer. He’d be damned glad when he could wash his hands of this entire situation. Maybe then he’d be able to lay off the Pepto.

“Eve,” Becky said into the phone, “I’m sorry to wake you, but—oh, you were awake?” Bill smiled triumphantly, but she ignored him. “Well, I just wanted to check on you and see how you’re doing and—”

She listened intently for a while then shot him an astonished look. “Well, put a Band-Aid on it so you won’t be tempted to self-mutilate.”