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As she finished, her brother’s jaw dropped again. “You were shot at?”
“I said shots were fired. No one was hit. The shooter disappeared. Marc drove me home because the police have my car, and I invited him to stay for pizza that’s being delivered as we speak.” She inclined her head toward a car pulling up at the curb. “End of story.”
Jack frowned at her. “I don’t like this, Bri.”
“I’m not thrilled about another ding in my bank balance, either. I can ignore a few scrapes on the car, but a bullet hole is a different story.”
“I’m not talking about the cost or inconvenience. I don’t like the timing.” Jack finally turned to him. “I bet you don’t, either.”
Marc leaned a shoulder against the wall and fitted his fingers into the pockets of his jeans. “Bri and I have already discussed that.”
“Yeah?” Jack folded his arms. “And?”
“Jack.” His hostess inserted herself back into the conversation. “We can talk about this later. Unless you want to join us for pizza.”
Her brother glanced at him again.
Marc remained silent, but his expression should be sending a clear “say no” message if Jack was astute enough to pick it up.
He was.
“I’ll pass—as long as you promise to call me later.”
“I can do that.”
“Why don’t you keep these for dessert? My waistline won’t appreciate two custards, and I’ll eat them both if they’re in my house.” He held out the bag.
Bri’s features softened as she crossed to her brother and took it. “Thanks. We’ll go there together soon. My treat.” She leaned over and gave him a hug.
He held her tight for a long moment, until the pizza guy cleared his throat at the bottom of the porch steps. “Enjoy your dinner.” His comment encompassed both of them.
“We will—and our dessert.” Bri lifted the bag.
“Nice to see you again.” Marc pushed off from the wall.
“Yeah.” Jack’s response may have been affirmative, but his inflection suggested he wasn’t entirely certain he was happy about this turn of events. “I’ll leave you two to your dinner.” Bri’s brother sidled around the pizza guy and strode down the walk.
“I’ll take care of this, Bri.” Marc moved back to the door. “Why don’t you grab our sodas and I’ll meet you in the kitchen?”
“Sorry about the unexpected visitor.” She motioned toward her departing brother.
“No worries. And if that bag holds Ted Drewes, it was worth the interruption.”
She hefted the sack again and swung it back and forth. “Guaranteed.”
“Next time, I supply the dessertandthe pizza.”
After a brief hesitation, she pivoted and headed toward the back of the duplex without disputing that there’d be a next time.
A win, as far as he was concerned.
By the time Marc rejoined her, pizza in hand, she’d set their sodas on the table and claimed a chair.
He took the seat across from her and flipped open the top of the box. “Does your brother know about Holmes?”
“He knows about my history with him. That’s one of the reasons he’s overprotective.” She helped herself to a slice. “He doesn’t know Travis has fallen off the radar in Idaho. I didn’t know that either, until this morning.”
“You plan to tell him?”
