The guy wanted to tell them to come back at a decent hour. The message was written across his freckled face as clearly as an assignment on a chalkboard. But he bit his tongue and made a phone call instead.
There was real regret in his voice when he said, “Sorry to bother you this early, Eliza. But those two FBI agents are back and asking to see you.”
Julia couldn’t hear what Miss Meadows said. It must’ve been an affirmative, because a second later the guard hit the button for the gate and the big wrought iron structure rattled open.
“She’s gonna throw on some clothes. So you might be waiting by the front door for a minute or two,” the ginger giant told them as he waved for them to enter the compound.
They quickly made their way across the blacktop expanse. But instead of having to wait for Miss Meadows to let them in, the door opened when they got within ten feet of it.
Ol’ Blue Eyes stood on the threshold wearing another superhero T-shirt—this one had Thor printed on it. There was a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. And his Southern accent reached out like tickling fingers when he said, “You’re back.”
She quickly responded, “And once again you’re awake at this ungodly hour. Do youeversleep?”
He crossed his ankles as he leaned against the doorjamb. He was barefoot, and she noted as an aside that he had really nice feet. Pretty nail beds, high arches and, unlike a lot of guys, not too hairy.
Come off it, Jules,she admonished herself.His feet? Seriously?
“If I’m being honest, the answer to that is rarely.”
“Huh?” She blinked at him as she dragged her eyes from his bare toes back to his face.
He lifted one dark, slashing eyebrow. “Sleep.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “Right.” Then, feeling annoyingly discombobulated, she forced herself to get down to brass tacks. “We’re here to talk with Miss Meadows. Your man out front phoned her and said she’s headed down.”
“Copy that.” Sergeant Rollins held the door wide. “In the meantime, could I interest you folks in a cup of coffee?”
The smell coming from his mug was strong enough to burn her nose. Which had her answering eagerly. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
She’d been in too much of a hurry to pick up Dillan and get to Black Knights Inc. to stop by a Peet’s for a much-needed kick of caffeine. And now she gladly followed the former Army Ranger as he turned left instead of right after they entered the old factory building.
The row of custom motorcycles gleamed as brightly as she remembered. And she caught Dillan ogling the bikes with the same look of lust he usually reserved for leggy redheads. But it was Rollins’s ass in his faded Levi’s that heldherattention.
Britt Rollins wasn’t tall and lean like Fisher Wakefield, or huge and jacked like their coworker, Graham Coleburn. But he had averynice body all the same. Broad shoulders. Lean hips. Enough muscle to make a woman take a second look but not so much to make her wonder if steroids had shrunk his testicles to the size of walnuts.
Yes, the more she was around Britt Rollins, the more attractive he became and?—
Why aren’t you thinking about the case?her brain screamed.
Right.Right.The case.
Two minutes later, she was sitting at a large island with a beautiful dark countertop. A piping-hot mug of thick, black coffee was clutched between her hands and after she took a tentative sip, careful not to burn her tongue, she hummed her approval.
Beside her, Dillan sputtered. “Christ on a crutch! Do you guys add water, or do you just grind the beans into a paste and serve them up?”
Rollins, who leaned casually against the countertop across from them, chuckled. “Little bit of A and a lot of B.”
“I love it,” Julia said around another appreciative sip.
“Says the woman who orders triple shot espressos.” Dillan harrumphed as he eyed his coffee like it might try to crawl out of his mug and assault him.
Julia turned on the barstool when she heard footsteps behind her. It was Eliza Meadows. And she was looking far better than the last two times Julia had seen her.
The woman wore black slacks, a white button-down shirt, and comfortable-looking ballet flats. Her dark hair was pulled back into a low ponytail. And the swelling had gone down from her temple and cheek. Although the bruise was still there, still a painful-looking blue that faded to a sickly looking yellow around the edges.
“Good morning.” Miss Meadows inclined her head and made a beeline for the coffeepot as Julia and Dillan returned her greeting.
Once Miss Meadows had a mug in hand, she crossed to the large, industrial-sized refrigerator and pulled out a gallon of milk. After adding a good dollop to her cup, she screwed on the lid and went to put it back in the fridge.
