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Chloe nodded. “I think that’s a good start. Perhaps he’s emailed someone over the last few months and we can get an address where the douchebag might be.”
“I can do that.” Shane snapped his gaze around to Sawyer. “This meeting never happened. You don’t know who I am. Deal?”
Sawyer bobbed his head. “Deal.”
“Send a bill to Porter.” Chloe rose from the desk.
Once she received Shane’s nod, she leaned in and offered a hug, attempting to whisper in his ear, “Track his credit card, too.”
Sawyer heard every word.
When she stood up, Sawyer arched a brow at her. She smiled sheepishly. “What? Just pretend you didn’t hear that, either.”
He inhaled her sweet scent as she walked over to him. His groin tightened as he dipped his head close to hers. “It’s harder to forget when it’s coming out of your mouth.”
Shane whistled. “The man is smooth, I’ll give him that.”
Chloe rolled her eyes, but her cheeks reddened. That amused Sawyer. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been around a shy woman. Club Sin submissives were skilled and confident in their dealings with men, whereas Chloe blushed at a simple innuendo. He liked that.
“Just let me know once you’ve got something,” Chloe called over her shoulder as they headed out.
Only when they were sitting in his truck did she speak again. “I know tracking Travis’s credit card bothers you, but it’s good to see what area he might be in.”
“Perhaps.”
She fastened her seatbelt. “Please tell me that you’ll keep your promise to stay quiet about Shane.”
“I said I would.” Sawyer put the key into the ignition. “Besides, he works—even if part-time—for Porter. I know Porter wouldn’t have dealings with anyone too deep into the criminal world. From what I can see, Shane hacks to help people, not hurt them.”
“He’s a good guy,” Chloe confirmed, crossing her legs. “So what now?”
“There’s not much more we can do at this point until we get a call from Shane.” He glanced at the clock on his dashboard: it was three-thirty. He mentally cursed himself. “You haven’t eaten since this morning. We need to fix that.”
“I don’t eat breakfast.” She smiled, her long soft hair trailing over her shoulder. “So, technically, I haven’t eaten since dinner.”
He stepped on the gas, heading down the palm-tree-lined street. “Well then, let’s fill you up.”
Chloe barked a laugh. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
—
Sawyer’s idea for food was a great little fifties café on the Vegas strip. The waitresses’ uniforms were red dresses with white aprons. The seating choices were booths or shiny red stools at the bar. Sawyer opted for a booth. He ordered a grand slam burger, and Chloe decided on the club sandwich.
The service was stellar: their meals arrived within ten minutes.
Chloe smiled as Sawyer bit into his burger, only a little surprised that a guy his size ate so neatly. On a sexual level, he hit all her buttons. What surprised her, though, was his compassion—for his sister, in his job, and now presumably for her.
He held an honorable job, had a close relationship with his family, and he appeared genuine. It made Chloe wonder why no woman had yet snatched him up. “Have you always been such a good brother?”
Sawyer placed his burger back onto his plate, arching a brow. “I’m a good brother?”
“Seems so.” Chloe dipped a french fry into the ketchup and bit off half of it, relishing the taste. “Most brothers wouldn?
?t be doing what you are. I know you’re a cop, so maybe this goes hand in hand with who you are, but it’s still sweet.”
Darkness haunted his expression. “I should have been there to stop the attack, not be there to help in the aftermath. I’m not sure if that makes me a good brother, but it does make me a pissed-off one.”
Chloe ate the other half of her fry and shrugged. “I doubt your sister would’ve approved of you babysitting her. You couldn’t have stopped the attack. But doing this, helping find Travis—it’s sweet, like I said.”
