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“She’s helping me,” Abbe said, rushing to fling herself into Rafe’s arms.
Bianca stepped back and averted her eyes as they greeted each other. Their love was so palpable, so bright and shiny, it was hard to look at it directly. Like the looking at the sun, Bianca thought.
“If she keeps spending any more time here you’re going to have to issue her a ten ninety-nine,” Rafe said, grinning.
“I can’t afford your sister. Although,” Abbe said, glancing at Bianca with raised eyebrows, “you are amazing with animals. If you wanted to start volunteering here on a more regular basis, I would not turn you away.”
“Seriously?” Bianca asked.
“Seriously,” Abbe said.
Bianca nodded. “I’d very much like that.” She told herself not to get too excited. It’s not like she was getting a Fulbright scholarship or anything. It was just volunteering at her friend’s shelter. But it felt good.
“We’ll get you trained and a schedule worked out,” Abbe promised. “There are some certifications that you’d need before I could leave you here alone.”
“No problem. I’ll do it,” Bianca said, jumping at the chance. “I’ll take classes and get certified. Whatever it takes. I mean, Jinx will have to sign off on it, but I think I can bring him around.”
“Oh my god, two of my favorite people at the same place?” Charles said. “I’ll be here so much my partner will think I’ve left him.”
“Does this mean you’ll finally have a day off?” Rafe said to Abbe in a long-suffering voice.
Abbe fit herself back into his arms. “It might,” she said, grinning up at him as he beamed down at her.
“Bianca? Hurry up and get certified,” Rafe said.
Their shared laugh was interrupted by the loud, growling sound of a car’s engine.
“Who is that?” Rafe asked, craning his head to look out the window at the shiny, black muscle car that had pulled up out front.
Bianca felt the urge to run or hide or burst into flames. Something. “That’s the cop. Elias,” she said, watching his lithe body unwind from behind the driver’s wheel. “The police officer who arrested me.”
Bianca was vaguely aware of the fact that they were all staring, watching Elias stride up to the front door in jeans, a button-down, and a jacket. The wind blew up a corner of his jacket, and for a second the leather strap of a gun harness was visible.
“Bianca,” Charles said appreciatively. “Five-O-my-god.”
Abbe giggled and smacked his arm, but Rafe was not amused.
“That’s the guy you were running around naked with in the woods?” Rafe asked, his high cheekbones flushing with anger.
“I was not naked. And neither was he,” she corrected. “He had underwear on.”
Rafe didn’t have a chance to continue with any more of the objections that he obviously had because Elias walked through the front door.
His eyes immediately found Bianca, stopping her breath, but then they shifted to Rafe, showing no emotion.
“Raphael Loring?” he said, already knowing to whom he was speaking. He reached out to shake. “Elias Copeland.”
Rafe took his hand, eyeing him in a charged way. They were about the same height and build, and some kind of male animal instinct flared between them, setting them at odds with each other as they tested each other’s edges. Rafe’s eyes glanced surreptitiously down to the dark smudge of the butt of Elias’ gun, sitting unobtrusively under his jacket, next to his ribs in a shoulder holster, but still very muchtherein the way only a deadly weapon can be.
“Rafe,” he said, allowing the other man to use his nickname, which he didn’t always do. Apparently, he saw something in Elias that met his approval.
Rafe introduced Abbe and Charles, watching him carefully all the while. Bianca could tell that her brother was testing him in a dozen different ways, one of them being manors and general deportment, and as Elias had started out with a deficit of his good opinion, he had a long way to go before he would be considered acceptable.
“Your sister called me earlier,” Elias said after he smiled his way through the general introductions. He finally met Bianca’s eyes again and went silent, waiting for everyone else to leave them alone.
He, apparently, did not understand that there was no way her brother would excuse himself from the room without being specifically and politely asked to do so. If there was a school for alpha male behavior, her brother would be the dean.
“You told me I had to wait forty-eight hours,” Bianca replied. She crossed her arms and realized she was still wearing bright yellow rubber gloves that kind of ruined the woman-of-mystery look she hoped she exuded. She quickly took them off.
