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“The next fi—party,” he said as Sally returned with their coffee. “Is in two weeks.”
“Here ya’ll go.” Sally set down their oversized mugs, a small ceramic pitcher of cream, and a basket of sweeteners. “Food’ll be ready in a few. Ya’ll good?”
“Yes, thank you,” Brooke answered immediately and probably with too much bite. She’d apologize, but all she wanted to know was more about the dog fights.
“Two weeks?” she clarified in a low voice after Sally strutted away again. Was it her imagination, or was she wiggling just a little extra this time?
“Two weeks from last night. So not next Saturday, but the following.”
Two weeks was good. That gave her—them—time to figure out how to take Prick down. “At the farm?”
He shrugged. “Not sure.”
She frowned, and he gestured her closer. As she leaned across the table, he took hold of her folded hands. After prying them apart, he began to play with her fingers. “They’ve held them at the farm a few times, but not always. Prick texts the location to the attendees on the afternoon of to keep shit as secret as possible.” He practically whispered the words, but to anyone observing them, they probably looked like a couple lost in a close conversation. Which was a ridiculous thought, right?
Was he interested in her? There was no way. Sure, maybe for sex, but not for cozy breakfasts and dates. Maybe he was just starting with some kindness before he told her how he regretted the previous night. Or how she wasn’t what he’d expected. That she could believe.
And if he was interested?
Her stomach fluttered. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—become involved with him or any man. She wouldn’t risk herself that way again.
Focus. Dogfighting. In two Saturdays.
“Well, shit,” she whispered once she had control of her thoughts again. “How the hell are we supposed to figure out a way to stop it if we don’t know where it is?”
His grim expression told her what she didn’t want to hear. Yet he said it anyway. “We may be just observing at this one.”
“No!” she said, straightening.
Several customers glanced her way at the outburst.
“Sorry,” she said, speaking quietly again. “But there is no way we can let another one happen without doing something about it.” As she spoke, she shook her head, imploring him with her eyes. He had to understand how important this was to her. Having the fights occur while she was ignorant of it was one thing, but now that she knew exactly when it was happening and would soon know where, she couldn’t possibly sit back and allow it.
Curly’s expression held sympathy and a bit of pity. Telling him about her past was a mistake. Now he probably saw her as some unfortunate creature comparing herself to these imprisoned dogs.
Wasn’t she, though?
“Babe,” he said, stroking circles on her palm with his thumb. If he meant the move to calm her, it was working, damn him. “I get that this fucking sucks. But we’ve got two weeks to work on it. Jinx is gonna continue to kiss Prick’s ass. Maybe he’ll find out the location early, but if not, I need you to prepare yourself that we may have to use this one as recon. We need to know how they run, how many people are there, if they have security, weapons, all kinds of shit.”
Well, damn. She hadn’t thought of a single thing beyond her worry over another dog or dogs being injured or killed.
His grim expression matched how she felt inside. “As much as I detest what’s going on, I can’t risk my guys. I won’t have them injured or arrested.”
Regret hit her hard. “No,” she whispered. “Of course not. I’m sorry. I get kinda crazy about this.”
He lifted her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “One of the best qualities about you is your passion, Brooke.” Then he winked. “In its many forms.”
This man and his silver tongue were going to be the death of her. But at least it was a good segue into the conversation she was dreading but needed to have. “Um, about last night…”
His smile turned dark and dangerous. The exact one that had led to last night’s insanity.
No, no, no.
“Look, I just want to be upfront with you.”
“Okay.” He released her hands and settled back against the vinyl of their booth.
Well, if that wasn’t a withdrawal, she didn’t know what was. Of course it was. She’d known from the start he’d pull away from her. A man like him and a woman like her made no sense. Even for a fling. Still, being rejected stung. Even if she had no plans for any kind of relationship with him or anyone.
Brooke straightened in the seat as well. It was time to get out in front of this conversation instead of letting him call the shots. “I’m not interested in any kind of complication.” She gave him the benefit of eye contact, so he’d know she wasn’t playing games or using this as some kind of passive-aggressive ploy to actually draw him in. “What I mean is that I don’t want a relationship of any kind. I refuse to be beholden to a man ever again, even as a girlfriend or a casual date. I make my own decisions, run my own life, and have no plans for that to change.”
