Page 49 of Above ’N’ Beyond

“To what?” To all appearances, she’d been ready to take out his eye.

“Never mind. What are you doing here?” She retrieved the corkscrew and set it on the bar. “You do know we’re closed Mondays, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” He nodded. “Jax and I were out for a walk and saw your car.” It was still light out, but after Tony left, he’d been worried about her being here alone.

Get real.

Stopping in hadn’t been the plan. Jax had caught her scent and practically dragged him to the back door. Maybe it was because of what had happened at the lake, or how harshly Paola had treated her last night, but somewhere over the last few days, he and Jax had begun to like Bella. Really like her. That was something he had to keep in check.

Even though he was nearly certain she wanted nothing to do with the Mancuso Crime Family, he still needed to maintain a healthy distance and keep things professional. Tonight was a primo opportunity to nail down once and for all just where her loyalties lay.

“Hello, Jax.” She knelt and scratched Jax’s ears. His tail wagged faster, and he leaned in to lick Bella’s cheek. “Thank you. You’re such a sweet dog.”

Sweet? Jamie snorted. Nobody had ever called Jax sweet before. Tough, yes. Scary, yes. Never sweet. But there was no doubting Jax was sweet on Bella.

His dog did something Jamie had never seen him do to anyone but Jamie. It was a ritual they shared at the end of a long work day.

He rested his head on Bella’s shoulder and sighed.

She laughed, gazing up at Jamie, her blue eyes vivid and smiling. A familiar warmth curled low in his belly. He knew that feeling all too well, but this time it was different.

He’d long ago lost count of all the women he’d dated. Liking them and being attracted to them was always a must. With other women, that suffusing warmth usually shot quickly south to his dick. With Bella, it had not only gone south but spiraled upward, wrapping around the inside of his chest.

Not good. He was only there for a job. Bella was Juliet to his Romeo. Lately, he’d come to detest the nickname his friends had given him.

“Has he eaten dinner yet?” She eased from Jax and gave Jamie a bird’s-eye view of the soft, mounding cleavage partially hidden by the scoop-neck tank top she wore.

“What?” He’d heard the words, but his brain was focused elsewhere.

“Dinner?” she asked again. “Has he eaten?”

“Uh.” He shook his head to clear it. “No.”

“Be right back.” She disappeared into the kitchen.

Man, he had to get a grip. Minimizing his alone time with Bella was a must, but he couldn’t do that. Finding out what she knew about Paola’s operation was still an essential part of the plan. Though he felt more and more like crap about it with each passing day.

Jamie went to the bar and picked up one of the mini-cameras. A ball of crumpled paper lay next to the opened boxes. He uncrumpled the paper, confirming it was directions for setting up the cameras.

“Here you go.” Bella carried a plate containing a pile of sauceless meat and a bowl of water. “I assume he can eat plain steak? It was a leftover sirloin that didn’t have any seasoning.”

When he nodded, she set the plate and bowl on the floor, and Jax dug in, hoovering the steak and making happy slurping sounds as he chewed. Unlike with Paola, Jax had no problem accepting food from Bella.

“Where’s Gnocchi?” he asked. If the puppy had been here, Jax would have found him in two seconds flat.

“At home, asleep. I hope. Today tuckered him out.” She picked up a nearly empty wine bottle and a used glass from the table where she and Tony had been sitting. “I brought him to the vet for his first checkup, then bought another crate for the house. Aside from being underweight, he’s a healthy little puppy. The vet thinks he has some Lab in him.”

Jamie watched Jax chow down on the last of the steak. “Need some help?” He pointed to the cameras.

“Actually, yes.” She held up the bottle. “Do you want the rest of this?”

The label on the bottle was for the Il Caggio Chianti, the excellent and pricey wine Paola had served. “I’ll split it with you.”

While she poured, he examined one of the cameras that was no bigger than one of those large square ice cubes that had become popular with Scotch drinkers. He was familiar with this make of camera, having set one up a year ago when his sister had adopted a dog. Despite its size, this particular brand not only recorded clear video but had sensitive microphones capable of recording audio from up to twenty feet away.

When she set a glass in front of him, he held it up for them to clink. “Thanks.” He took a sip. The wine was good but tasted slightly different from what Paola had served. Confusion must have shown on his face.

“What, you don’t like it?” she asked.