Grand Burger was on her list of top ten restaurants in Winnipeg. It was not a place where burgers were eaten in polite company. Grand Burger was bits of ground beef falling out of the brioche bun, chili dripping down her fingers, and a smear of mustard on her chin when Bree finally got it to her mouth. If heaven had a burger, it was a Grand burger.
Of course, that’s when he found her. Not Adam. Marcus Forrester. Bree chewed slowly and reached for her glass of cola. “Marcus. Did Eric get a hold of you?” she asked in greeting.
“I thought you weren’t in touch with him anymore.”
“I wasn’t lying at the time. He came by my house this morning.” She leveled a stare at him. “I’d say thanks for that but you never were the type who appreciates good sarcasm.”
His lip twitched. Bree took it as a sign he was more amused than irritated. “So you passed on my message after all.”
“Just like you asked. Now my ex is giving me shit, and my brother is chasing my ass around town. I left a message for Adam to meet me here. He’s not Eric, but if he shows, you can give him your message then,” she said.
“Or you could tell him for me.”
Bree gave Marcus another look. Confrontational was not her best option, but it beat the hell out of being drawn into motorcycle club-police politics. “I really can’t. And I really don’t want to. No offense. I’m not a WPS fan. I cut them out of my life for a reason. I’m not going to jump back into bed with them for you. I’d resent it. Deeply.”
Eric had called Marcus a criminal. But he was a criminal who wasn’t in jail, which meant he was intelligent enough to avoid conviction. If he was smart enough to do that, he should be able to pick up her subtext:leave me the fuck alone.
If he were smart enough, he didn’t show it. Instead, he slipped into the other side of her booth and picked a French fry off her plate. “You don’t have any mayonnaise for dipping.”
“Oh, God, you’re one of those people,” she said before her brain kicked into gear. Bantering with bikers was bad. He might mistake it for flirting, which would be worse. She might have had a thing for him back in high school, but now was a whole new ball game. She needed to leave before things got worse.
“Bree? What the fuck?”
And it was worse. “Adam Collingswood, Marcus Forrester, vice-president of the Ice Road Warriors. Marcus Forrester, Sergeant Adam Collingswood of the Winnipeg Police Services Homicide Unit. Although you both know each other already, I’d figured I’d officially make the introduction, so I can be safely and immediately on my way.” She scooted off the bench, jacket and purse in hand. She hated abandoning her burger, but she wasn’t going to stick around.
“Seriously? You’re having dinner with Forrester?” Adam seethed, the blood rushing to his face.
“Relax, Collingswood. She didn’t know I’d be here. I didn’t know you’d be here. But since we’re both here now, Bree’s right. We need to talk. She can leave,” Marcus said, helping himself to more of her fries.
“I’m gone,” Bree announced. She hesitated as she passed Adam. “Will you be okay?” she asked. They weren’t friends. Not anymore. But they were still family. She wasn’t going to leave him in a bad situation that was her fault, even indirectly.
“Yes.”
“I’ll call you again tomorrow,” she said.
Bree didn’t turn around on her way out. She didn’t want to get pulled in to whatever the hell was going on. Although she had a feeling it was already too late.
