I couldn’t help grinning at the way they sparred like siblings already. My hand slipped around her waist, drawing her in close. “What you missed is a whole lot of nothing. That’s what we’ve got.”
Her brows knitted together in that adorable way she gets when she’s thinking hard. “You keep telling me that’s a good thing. Why do you all look like someone just killed your cat? I mean, we haven’t found the coke, but we haven’t seen the bad guys either.”
Reef rolled his eyes, and Spence let out a sarcastic chuckle. The jukebox switched to Tom Petty, his voice floating through the air like an omen.
Rubbing her back, I kept my voice low. “We need to decide if we’re sitting back and letting this play out, or if we’re taking steps. Right now we’re leaning toward letting it play out.”
“As in stop searching for the stolen coke?” Jasmine clarified.
“Yeah. It’s gone on too long. Afraid it’s only going to bring heat down on us.”
“No complaints here. I’ve been worried about losing my job—or worse. How am I supposed to know if it’s an undercover cop I’m asking?”
“Exactly. There’s a million reasons that’s a bad idea. We can’t keep that up. So for now, we wait,” Spence said, and it sounded like a smarter idea when it came from my eldest brother.
“Great. My favorite part.” Jasmine turned on her heel and slipped back behind the bar.
“Why’d you want her here if you’re not being honest with her?” Spence asked, his accusation hanging like smoke between us.
“Mind your own business,” I groaned.
“That’s rich, coming from you right now.” Spence lifted his beer, eyes hard. “Rich indeed.”
“Fair,” I admitted. This was my mess, and I’d dragged them into it. “Okay, that story about Dad and Waylan sounds suss as hell, I’ll give you that. But it can’t have anything to do with the square grouper. That’s insane.”
“We can’t know for sure unless we ask them,” Spence pressed.
“What about the feds?" Reef offered. "They interviewed you about the bale.”
I stared between my brothers, disbelief curdling in my gut. “If we tell a cop,” I said carefully, “their priority is catching the guys, right?”
Neither Spence nor Reef responded, because the answer was obviously yes.
“My point is, we don’t give two shits about taking the smugglers down. We donotwant to poke that bear. No cops. And especially no feds. That’s a death sentence—unless you’re interested in Witness Protection. And come on, that’s no solution.”
“Neither is hoping for a miracle,” Spence said with a dry laugh. “But I get your point. The question is, what happens when they get tired of waiting?”
“If they show up, I’ll give them the rundown of our efforts to find the half bale, apologize that we couldn’t deliver, and assure them we want no part of their business.” Deep down I hoped, against all reason, that this impossible outcome might actually be true.
Reef thumbed the rim of his bottle, muttering, “You’re so fucked.” Then he tipped his bottle toward me with mock cheer. “But hey, maybe they’ll appreciate the apology.”
“Thanks,” I grumbled.
“He’s right,” Spence added. “But if you refuse to go to the authorities, that’s where we’re at.”
Spence drained his beer. “Either way, watch your backs. And hers.” His chin jerked toward Jasmine.
I didn’t need the reminder. Every nerve in me already tuned to her like radar.
Jasmine came back, a faint flush on her cheeks just as my brothers stood. “Leaving so soon?”
“Yeah, not much else to say,” Spence said, clearly irritated. “And 5 A.M. comes early. What do we owe you?”
Scooping up the empties, Jasmine winked. “Don’t worry, these are on me.”
Reef’s grin lit up like only free beer could provoke. “Sell a few paintings to a fancy resort, and now it’s drinks for all my friends, huh?”
“More like drinks for my boyfriend and his brothers. Even the annoying one.”
