The tall, rich fucker stood and offered his hand to me. “Grayson.” He paused before tacking on, “The bossy asshole.”
“Who also happens to be with the FBI. Oh, and he’s also my older brother.”
That’s it.
Lo and Grayson didn’t look much alike. For one, he was over a foot taller than her. But the familiarity that’d stabbed at me was because their body language was a copy and paste.
Not to mention, their sharp gazes that seemed to commit everything to memory in a blink. Both sets of brown eyes were aimed my way. Lo was happy to see me.
Grayson seemed less than impressed as he stared at me like he knew all the shit I’d been doing with his little sister. I knew that couldn’t be the case.
I was wrong.
“So how long have you been sleeping with your protectee?” he asked her.
I expected her to say it was just the cover, and I was good with that. Fine, not good. But I got it. She had her career to protect, and that was more important than my feelings right then.
I was wrong again.
“Hmm, let me see.” She tilted her head to the side. “Today’s Saturday. Not a leap year. Waning crescent moon under a Freddie Mercury in retrograde. Divide by four. Carry the one. Going by the Aztec calendar, that makes it… none of your business.”
It was a tense situation, but she was still funny as fuck. I couldn’t hold in my laugh, and that seemed to please her even though her brother didn’t look amused.
“Lo,” he started, but she held her hand up.
“I appreciate the concern. I do. But I’m not talking about this with you. I know the risks.”
But I’m doing it anywaywent unsaid but was still somehow loud.
“You may know the risks, but do you know your man?” he shot back.
“What’s that mean?” I bit out, not liking the insinuation.
He didn’t look any happier about it. “That when a group of bikers and a bar owner drop in for a visit to a strip club, I wasn’t expecting that last guy to track back to my baby sister.”
“Why the hell were you tracking me anywhere?”
If he’s another damn suspect to add to the list of people targeting me, I give up. I’ll have Beck burn the building to the ground for the insurance money, and then Lo and I will take off to the Bahamas. A private beach. Her in a bikini or less…
Christ, I can’t get hard right now.
“He wasn’t tracking you,” Lo said. “He’s watching NashVille.”
“I’m not at liberty to say,” Grayson said.
That was a yes.
She knew it, too. “Well, you’re not tracking the bikers because you would’ve seen me before now. That leaves the messy strip club.”
Technically, Mayhem did some stuff that could land them on the FBI’s watchlist. Nox had even more. But the rest of her point was valid.
“You’re the one Carl was talking about,” I said slowly. “The one who’s been asking about Nash.”
“The FBI has no interest in a dead man.”
“Confirmed dead?” I asked since they could be going off the same assumptions we’d made while Nash was the one up to fuckery on a beach somewhere.
Grayson lifted his chin. “His body was found over a year ago. Parts of it, at least. But we’d already been building a case. Our interest is in who we think took over expanding his operation.”
