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Colin laughed. “We all do, it’s in our DNA. Nice to meet you, Harper. Steele, there might be one more cinnamon roll left for you, but I think you should do the gentlemanly thing and offer it to Harper.”
“Stop teasing him.” Quinn lightly punched Colin in the arm. “Everyone knows Rosie bakes all day long.”
“Truth,” Aiden agreed. “Enjoy your meal. We need to get going.”
“Big plans?” Steele asked, edging past them toward the booth.
“They’re helping us move into our new home.” Aiden’s brown eyes crinkled with a smile. “They lost a bet, so they get to be my muscle. Shelby and Eva are waiting for us in Oshkosh. Next weekend is our wedding. It’s all going really fast, but we’re thrilled.”
“Sounds great. Try not to work too hard,” Steele said.
“Yeah, yeah,” Quinn groused. “Let’s hit the road. The sooner we get this done, the better.”
“Take care.” The lighthearted teasing between the Finnegan siblings provided a sense of normalcy. As if she wasn’t in danger from Grotto’s gunmen. Then again, if she wasn’t in danger, she never would have met Steele or any of the Finnegans.
She slid into the booth as a woman with red hair bustled toward them. “Ah, lass, let me clean the table first, won’t ya?”
“Hey, Rosie,” Steele greeted her.
“Why, if it isn’t Steele Delaney! A fine Irish lad,” Rosie added with a wink. “Are ya interested in my cinnamon rolls?”
“Yes, please.” Steele grinned. “I knew Colin didn’t eat them all.”
Rosie let out a belly laugh as she cleaned the table, then hurried away. Harper leaned toward Steele. “Is she really from Ireland?”
“That’s what she claims.” He shrugged. “None of us dare argue for fear she won’t share her wonderful cooking with us.”
Rosie returned with the biggest cinnamon rolls Harper had ever seen, along with two cups of coffee. “Oh, sorry, I only drink decaf,” she protested.
“Aye, lass, I knew you were expecting. This is decaf, I promise.” Rosie set the cup in front of her. “I’ll be back to take the rest of your order.”
“I can’t eat all this,” she protested.
“I’ll eat what you don’t,” Steele said with a grin.
Five minutes later, Brock joined them. He dropped into the seat beside her and eyed her half-eaten cinnamon roll. “You finished with that?”
“Yes.” She pushed the plate toward him.
“Fill me in,” Brock said as he took a bite of the cinnamon roll.
Steele did so, not holding anything back. When he mentioned the SIG Sauer found in her underwear drawer, Brock scowled. “Obviously planted.”
Considering Brock had been suspicious of her initially, his comment made her feel better. Not that it would matter in the long run. “What if Jake is the one setting me up?”
Both men stared at her. “You think so?” Steele asked.
She honestly didn’t know what to think. “If not the ATF, then the only one who would hate me enough to do this is Jake.”
“She has a point,” Brock mused. “I hadn’t considered that angle.”
“Me either,” Steele agreed. “But how is Jake pulling the strings to do all this?”
“Maybe he’s lying about testifying against Grotto.” Brock shrugged. “I don’t know, but it’s a possibility that should be easy to prove.”
“How so?” Harper asked.
“He would have to have a hidden phone or some access to a computer to stay connected to Grotto, right?” Brock said.
