Wilde at Heart (Wilde Security, #3)(74)

Shelby stood, and her stomach rolled over in disgust. For such a handsome man, he was an ugly, ugly person. “And it took you this long to return everything?”

He held up his hands in defense. “Hey, I had to track you down.”

“Right,” Eva muttered. “You’re an unethical jackass, and I should report you, have your license stripped.”

He dropped his hands. “I don’t want any trouble now. I was just doing the job I was hired for.”

He turned away but Shelby wasn’t about to let him leave without more answers. She shouldered past her sister. “Who hired you? Lena?”

He snorted out a disbelieving laugh. “I don’t know anyone named Lena, but if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Client privilege.”

Wait. It wasn’t Lena?

She grabbed his arm hard enough to spin him around on the icy steps. “If you don’t want my sister riding your ass—and believe me, you don’t—then you will f*cking tell me.”





Chapter Twenty-Eight


“I was an idiot,” Reece muttered and knocked back the two fingers of Maker’s Mark Dylan had poured him. They sat in the living room of Dylan and Alicia’s townhouse, surrounded by the antiques passed down through Dylan’s wealthy family and the expensive artwork that Alicia collected. It was a home, a place where two people had melded their personal styles into something welcoming and cozy. He’d been on his way to that with Shelby and her crazy pillows and paintings and…

Fuck.

“You look like hell,” Dylan said and leaned forward in his seat to grab the bottle of whiskey. He held it out in offering, and Reece shook his head. His stomach was too sour, and the alcohol wasn’t settling well.

“I feel like hell.”

Dylan nodded and refilled his own glass. “You can stay here as long as you need, buddy.”

“Just for tonight,” Reece said. “I have a couple home security installations in Virginia Beach. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Maybe you should reschedule.”

“No.” Now more than ever, he needed to work.

Dylan gave a half laugh. “That’s what I figured you’d say—hell, it’s what I’d say in your shoes—but as your friend, I was obligated to pitch the idea.”

“Dammit!” Alicia’s voice floated out from the kitchen, and she appeared a second later, hands on her hips. “Hon, where are the tomatoes I asked for?”

“I got spaghetti sauce.”

She pushed out an exasperated sigh. “I am not making your mother’s lasagna recipe with canned sauce. If she found out, I’d never hear the end of it.” She pointed to the door. “Grocery store. Now.”

Dylan groaned, set aside his glass, and stood. “Look on the bright side, buddy. An annulment means no wifezilla ordering you around.”

Alicia swatted him as he passed her on his way to the door. “I wouldn’t have to order you around if you did things right the first time. I swear,” she said to Reece. “I gave him a list. How do you screw up a list?” Then, noticing the bottle of Maker’s Mark on the coffee table, she clucked her tongue and scooped it up. “Drowning yourself in alcohol will not solve anything. You should go talk things out with Shelby.”

“We’re past the point of talking things out.”

“Men.” Alicia shook her head and turned to go back into the kitchen. “If you want something to drink, I’ll make you coffee.”

Reece winced. Coffee didn’t sound any more appealing than the alcohol had, but he didn’t want to be an ungracious guest. It was bad enough he was being a mopey guest. “Thank you. I’d love some.”

Once he was alone, he sat back in his seat and scrubbed his hands over his face. Coming here had been a mistake, but going to Cam and Eva’s house was out of the question and his other brothers…yeah, he didn’t want to talk to them, either. What he really wanted was to be alone so he could stew in his anger without interruption.

He should get a hotel for the night.

Actually, the more he thought about it, the better he liked the idea of anonymous, impersonal solitude.

Yeah, as soon as Dylan came back, he’d make his excuses and take off.

Alicia returned from the kitchen with a mug and pushed it into his hand. “Drink. Coffee always makes everything better.”

He obligingly took a sip, and she smiled, but there was a slight strain to it, a tightness that wasn’t normally there.

She touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

He mustered up a hint of a smile in return and covered her hand with his. “I’ll be okay.”

She turned away fast and hurried toward the kitchen. “I need to finish a few things in here, then I’ll come sit with you.”

Before he could protest, she was gone. He heard dishes clinking, water running, and the sounds were soothing. Normal. He nearly fell asleep sitting there, listening to her fix dinner.

He yawned. Hadn’t realized how exhausted he was until he had a few minutes alone. Drifting, he didn’t know how much time had passed before she came back with her own mug of coffee and curled up in the seat her husband had vacated.

“Okay, Reece,” she said. “Talk to me.”

He shook himself awake and took another gulp of his cooling coffee. Although he’d known Alicia since college, they’d never before had this kind of personal conversation, and the thought of doing so now had him shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Uh, you don’t have to—”