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Beau shot me a dirty look. “Careful, or I’ll beat you up.”
“Hey.” Reath strolled in.
“Beer?” Beau asked.
“Hell, yeah.” Reath’s tone was light, but he was frowning.
I leaned against the island. “Problem?”
“No. I mean, there’s always something. I was just talking with Jack.” Reath shook his head. “His latest job is not great.”
Jack was Reath’s best friend. They’d joined the military together, but now Jack did contracts for a private military contractor.
Reath scowled. “The jobs keep getting riskier and riskier.”
“Sorry we’re late,” Mila called out, as she and Dante breezed in.
As usual, Mila looked a little flushed, and Dante looked relaxed and smug. I shook my head. “We have Sunday lunch at the same time every week. Can’t you keep your hands off your woman for that time?”
“Nope,” Dante replied.
Mila smacked my arm as she walked past. “Glass of wine for me, too, please.”
I poured her a glass, and soon we were all seated around the table—eating, drinking, laughing, giving each other shit.
Daisy crawled onto my lap, and I held out some garlic bread for her. She smiled at me. So trusting.
I’d had zero trust as a kid. My first memory was of hiding in a dark place, my pulse racing, my empty stomach rumbling.
I quickly sipped my wine and breathed in Daisy’s apple-shampoo scent.
Never again.
Across from me, Dante nuzzled Mila and shot her a private smile.
“Get a room,” I said.
Dante looked like he wanted to make a rude gesture, but his gaze moved to Daisy, and he settled for an eye roll.
“I might’ve said the same thing to you last night,” Reath said.
I sat back in my chair. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Spill,” Macy demanded.
Mila leaned forward. “Definitely spill.”
“Our brother here was cozy with a woman,” Beau told them.
“A certain Treasury agent out to nail him for money laundering,” Reath added.
“Oh” Macy said. “I’ve seen her. She’s stunning. Gorgeous brown skin and legs a mile long.”
“Do you have a girlfriend, Uncle Kav?” Daisy asked.
I tugged lightly on her hair. “No, darling, I don’t have a girlfriend.”
Her brow crinkled. “Why?”
