“You’re also not going to date Cara because she’s twenty-six. Although,” Lyle looked at me again and narrowed his eyes, “you could totally pass for thirty-five, so you could tell her that’s your age.”
I stared him down with the look I normally reserved for law-enforcement trainees who tried to tell me stupid things about weapons they didn’t understand. “Not trying to date her, not about to lie to her.”
He held up his hands and said, “Whatever, I’m sure you won’t,” in a tone that indicated he hadn’t believed a word I’d said, then walked away to take the order of a couple who’d just sat down at the bar.
“Now that that’s settled,” Mason said, “how about I introduce you to see if you two can make a deal?”
Yes, it was settled. Not that it had ever been unsettled, even thoughithad responded so passionately to the beautiful and very young woman. A woman I knew nothing about. “I should probably ask you a few questions about her, like what she does for a living, why she’s driving east, whether she associates with unsavory types. You mentioned a dirtbag ex.”
Mason crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his hip against the bar. “The third degree? I assume that means you’re skipping the holidays to do a job for Lang. Henry didn’t mention that. I thought it was a personal thing. Because of...you know.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s not that. I can’t give you any details about what it is, but I do need to know something about Cara before I drive across the country with her.”
“I’m sure Lang will run a full background check on her for you.”
He would, but that would take a few days. “Mason, I can see you feel protective toward her, but I don’t plan to pull her into any bullshit.”
He glared at me for a full thirty seconds, then let out a long, annoyed-sounding sigh. “She’s an artist, has an MFA, teaches kids’ classes on the side. Oh, and she does some kind of online thing with posting her work and too much information about her personal life, which is more risk than I think she should take. But not my business. Summer recently mentioned she’s monetized that, whatever that means.”
Monetizing online, I understood. And it wasn’t good news for my purposes. “Sounds like she’s an influencer, or trying to be.” I backtracked to the previous part of his description. “You said she’s an artist. What does that mean, exactly?”
That earned me another exasperated sigh. “It means art, Nick. The fuck do you think it means? You know that mixed-media piece I have mounted on the wall in the billiards room? She made that. I saw it at one of her gallery showings and thought it was amazing, so I bought it. She oversaw the installation as a personal favor.”
I remembered the big hunk of acrylic, painted in a mosaic pattern, with twisted pieces of metal from an old car jutting out of it. I’d seen it once and had avoided the billiards room ever since because the piece had given me nightmares. But that was a “me” problem, not the artist’s fault.
“As for the trip east, her family is there and she always goes home for Christmas. She’s driving this year instead of flying. Don’t ask me why because it’s not my business so I didn’t ask.”
His patience with my curiosity was wearing thin, so I asked one last, important question. “And the ex? You said dirtbag.”
“Not shady, though. Well, not in the way that would worry you. His dad started a successful car dealership and expanded it to a whole chain, then handed it over to his kid after he got his MBA. So, he’s a spoiled shit who led Cara on for years, but I doubt he has criminal ties.”
“Years?” I glanced at her, understanding the sadness lurking behind her smile. “Tough break.” I threw back the rest of my whiskey and gave Mason a thumbs up. “Okay, let’s do this.”
He took a few deep breaths to cleanse my negative energy, something he’d explained to me shortly after meeting me. For a retired military guy, he was into a lot of woo-woo and, apparently, I had a dusky aura or something equally problematic. He and I both knew where the negativity came from, but as a true, if annoyed, friend, he was kind enough not to talk about it.
“Remember, best behavior,” Mason said. “She’s a nice kid.”
Kid being the operative word. But damn it, when I glanced in her direction again, she sure as hell looked like a full-grown woman. And as a full-grown man, I wanted to misbehave very, very badly.
CHAPTER 4
CARA
“If you’re interested, I can give you all the pertinent deets on Nick Roman,” Summer offered.
“No thanks,” I said. Yes, I was curious. No, that did not mean I would give the man a second thought. Well, a third one. “Do I want to know why you’re an expert?”
“She low-key stalked him for a while,” Gabi said.
Summer shook her head. “Only for a week or so. I mean, an uber-attractive zaddy shows up right in front of us in our home-turf bar and we’re supposed to ignore him?”
“The man is a snack,” Gabi agreed.
“Well, I’d make a meal out of him,” Summer said. “I tried the first night he hosted trivia, but he turned me down cold. And called me “kid” when he did it. It was humiliating.”
“He did send over some nice condolence drinks,” Gabi said.
“Hmph,” Summer snorted. “I’m waiting for him to make it up to me in other ways. Although,” she slid a sidelong glance at me, “maybe blondes aren’t his type.”
