Asking for Trouble (Line of Duty #4)(51)

A beat passed. For the first time since Brent had known Matt, his unruffled demeanor slipped and something akin to pain shone through. “Sometimes we find out these things too late. Don’t make that mistake.” He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, signaling the end of that particular topic. Brent reined in his curiosity and let it go without comment.

“All right. Any other advice, oh wise one?”

“Beg like hell.” Matt gave a quick shake of his head. “I don’t have a lot of experience with girls like Hayden. She’s an incredibly sexy girl—”

“Bro.”

He held up a hand. “Don’t worry, my tastes are…different. However, she’s the only girl I’ve come across who is remotely capable of putting up with your bullshit. No offense. I mean that in the nicest possible way.”

“None taken.” Brent crossed his arms. “You’re right. I’m a dick.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Matt sighed. “Actually, I take it back. I would go that far.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

“Any time.” They both turned as Daniel walked into Quincy’s. Looking highly preoccupied, he didn’t see them until Brent put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. He leaned against the wall beside Brent and nodded at them, but didn’t speak. Just stood there, twisting the engagement ring on his finger. Brent and Matt shared a look.

“Hey Danny, you missed it. Matt here just broke his record for consecutively spoken words. Giving advice, no less.”

No response from Daniel.

“Seriously, if I’d closed my eyes, it would have been like Dr. Phil was standing right next to me.”

Still nothing.

“All right, what’s up with you, man?”

Daniel blew out a breath. “I don’t know. Something was off with Story this morning. Have you spoken to Hayden?”

“Nope. And thanks for rubbing it in.”

“She wouldn’t even look at me before she left for work and now she’s not answering her phone.”

“It’s nothing,” Matt insisted. “You guys are solid. Stop overanalyzing.”

Brent smiled. “See? Dr. Phil without the goofy accent.”

Daniel grabbed Brent’s Coke and took a healthy swallow. “Yeah…yeah, you’re probably right.” Before the words left his mouth, a phone rang and Daniel all but gave himself whiplash trying to extricate the source of the noise from his pocket. “It’s her.”

Matt and Brent rolled their eyes.

“Hey, sunshine.” He listened silently for long moments, his skin growing pale. Brent could practically hear Story’s frantic voice through the phone and frowned. Something was definitely wrong. His whole body tensed as Daniel met his eyes. Whatever had gone wrong, Hayden was involved. Jesus. How bad could it be? When Story finally paused, Daniel’s responded very quietly. “Okay, listen to me, baby. You need to stall. Do whatever you have to do. Just don’t let it happen.” He hung up.

Brent swallowed. “What is it?”

“We need to get down to City Hall.”

A moment later, Brent burst through the front entrance of Quincy’s and ran full speed for the ESU truck, Daniel and Matt right behind him.





Chapter Seventeen


Hayden and Story sat side-by-side on a hard wooden bench outside the city clerk’s chamber, waiting for Hayden’s turn to get married. She’d gone with a simple navy pencil skirt and white blouse. Her mother’s pearl earrings. In clear protest of her decision, Story had shown up in frayed, cutoff jean shorts and moccasins. Last night, amid a sea of Chinese food containers and empty wine bottles, with Troop Beverly Hills playing in the background, she’d confessed everything to Story. Her friend’s reaction had been as expected, simultaneously sympathetic and outraged, but she’d managed to exact her promise to keep quiet about Hayden’s impromptu wedding.

After speaking with her father, she’d rushed to Stuart’s apartment before any more damage could be done, negotiating his reinstatement of the loan payment in exchange for her promise to marry him the following day. To his credit, he hadn’t made her grovel, even though he’d been decidedly smug. Just before she’d left, he’d asked her about Brent.

He’s a nonissue, she’d said, nearly choking as she said the words.

Stuart, who stood several feet away, wore a perfectly tailored suit. Unfortunately, it only made her think of the king-size suit she’d rented for Brent. How amazing it had looked on him. And off of him. With a gulp, she tried to think of something—anything—else besides the man who’d barged his way past her defenses. Twenty-four hours ago, she’d been in bed with him. Hope burgeoning in her chest, along with a sense of rightness. Yesterday morning felt like it had taken place a decade ago, even if the pain of walking away from him was still horribly fresh.

Her fiancé laughed into his cell phone and checked his watch for the third time in as many minutes. He had a meeting to get to, after all.

Whoever said romance is dead?

“You don’t have to do this,” Story whispered to Hayden, blue-green glare fixed on Stuart. Having just met Hayden’s future husband for the first time, Story had taken an immediate dislike to him. A rarity for her amiable best friend. Hayden didn’t blame her. “There has to be another solution. I mean, my God, you’re not some…sacrificial lamb. This is archaic.”