“This is what’s bothering you?” I asked.
He puffed out his cheeks. “I can’t sleep.”
“You wantmyadvice? I’m honored. But I’m the last person who would know how to be a father.”
“Give yourself credit, bro. You raised Dillon, Grace, and me.”
I pressed my hands into the edge of the bar. “All of us know that we don’t ever want to be like our old man. That in itself is all you need. You also have Dillon to lean on for advice.”
“Why are you sounding like you won’t be around?” A glare of worry colored his face.
I pulled my T-shirt down in the back. “Come on. You have to know that as much as I want out, it’s not that easy. The way things are going, too, it looks like Tito and Mateo might be driving the ship with the stolen guns.”
He gaped. “They really aren’t the sharpest knives in the drawer, are they?”
“If the mole in Gustavo’s camp does his job, I might be meeting with Mateo soon.”
“Please let me be part of that meeting,” he said with too much eagerness for my liking.
“Fuck no. You’re going to be a dad. I don’t want anything happening to you. That would gut me, and Jade would have a cow.”
Lines wrinkled his forehead. “I know the consequences, and no matter how much you try to keep me and Dillon out of this, you can’t. Remember, the Alvarezes will use your siblings to fuck with you. Either way, we’re in this with you.”
My brothers were as stubborn as I was.
“Look, stay alert. I promise that I’ll reach out if I need you. All the chess pieces are not set yet.”
Denim drank his Coke. “If Mateo truly is involved, why don’t we set him up like we did Tito? That might be the angle you need to clean up this mess.”
I smoothed a hand over my hair. “Not happening unless I can keep Rosario out of the picture. I don’t care if I go to prison, but I won’t throw her or Gustavo under the bus.” That was suicide. Not to mention, I owed her.
“Fair enough, but we could always use Detective Hughes to work with us. After all, Mateo has been high on his list forever.”
“Duke, are you down there?” Joy’s siren voice filtered into my ears, and all was right in the world for a moment.
Denim almost fell off the barstool. “Is that who I think it is? Bro? Way to go.”
“Don’t count your chickens and all that,” I whispered as my eyes landed on Joy climbing down the stairs in nothing but one of my button-down shirts that was way too big for her. Thank fuck she was covered.
She flipped her long waves of caramel hair over shoulders, her attention on Denim. “Oh, hi.”
My dick was having a fantastic time in my jeans at the sight of her, which was the best fucking picture this side of the Mississippi.
“Holy shit!” Denim whispered as his gaze bounced from Joy to me. “You should see the look in your eyes. I think you’ve fallen harder than ever before.”
Ignoring him, I asked Joy, “Couldn’t sleep?”
She sashayed behind the bar and snuggled up to me. “My heat blanket was gone.”
Denim watched us with awe. “Joy, whatever you’ve done to this brute, you need to do more of it.”
I wrapped my arm around her. Inside, I was losing my shit because, in a way, Denim was right. I was falling, and it felt like the best damn feeling ever. But Joy and I had agreed to only one night.
I kissed her head. “You should go back to bed. I’ll be up in a minute.”
Denim hadn’t taken his eyes off us.
“Thanks for the lovely Thanksgiving dinner,” she said to Denim in a sultry, sleepy voice.
