Angel leaned against his bike, finishing off his beer as Tool rambled about Brandi ignoring his texts. The guy needed to figure his shit out—before someone else did.
“All I’m gonna say, brother, is if you don’t stake a claim, someone else might,” Angel warned, tossing his empty bottle into the nearby bin.
Tool’s head snapped up. “Who the fuck’s sniffing around her?”
Angel smirked. “Seen Killer hanging aroundThe Coffee Beana lot lately. And he doesn’t eat ice cream, if you get my drift.”
Tool’s jaw ticked. “I’ll cut his dick off.”
Angel chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s not the girl’s fault you left her hanging.”
Before Tool could respond, a dark blue Mercedes sedan came flying through town, tires screeching as it weaved between slower cars. Right behind it, sirens wailed, and blue lights flashed, the local deputy hot on its tail.
Angel tipped back his beer, watching the scene unfold. The whole damn town had probably taken notice—anything remotely exciting around here had people looking up from their daily grind.
But instead of pulling into the Firehouse lot, the car jerked into two parking spaces across the street. The driver’s doorpopped open just as the deputy stepped out of his cruiser, likely ready to bark an order to stay put.
Then a high-heeled foot hit the pavement. Attached to it? A long, shapely, tanned leg—bare, as the edge of a dress slipped away with the movement.
Angel froze, beer halfway to his lips.Damn.If that was her introduction to the deputy, she’d probably walk away with just a warning. Then she stepped fully into view, and Angel choked on his drink.
“You good over there?” Tool asked, laughing as Angel coughed, wiping his mouth.
Angel barely nodded, his eyes locked on the woman across the street. The deputy, to his credit, didn’t seem fazed, but she was putting in the effort—well-manicured hand trailing up his arm, resting lightly on his bicep. She was flirting her ass off, trying to sweet-talk her way out of a ticket.
Trip, who had wandered out just in time to catch the show, let out a low whistle. “You think Barney Fife over there will let her off with a warning?”
Angel shook his head. “I don’t know, man. Seems immune to the obvious flirtation happening.”
“She looks familiar,” Tool muttered, watching closely. Then he turned to Angel, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face. “Oh, shit. That’s Layla, isn’t it?”
Angel exhaled sharply. “Yep.”
Fuck. Quinn’s sister.Gypsy had mentioned the girls were heading out of town for a weekend trip, but he hadn’t said a damn thing about Quinn’stroublemakersister rolling into town for it.
Layla Bagrov was a goddamn whirlwind. She blew in, wrecked everything in her path, and disappeared before anyone could pick up the pieces.
“Oh shit,” Trip piped up. “The one you hooked up with at the Gypsy camp?”
Angel shot him a warning look. “Yep. And if you tell Gypsy that shit, I’ll kick your ass.”
Tool held up his hands, grinning. “Secret’s safe with me, brother.”
Tool, still watching Layla pour on the charm, snorted. “Doesn’t look like she’s having much luck.”
Across the street, Layla’s expression twisted into frustration as the deputy handed her the ticket book and a pen. She stomped a foot—full-ontantrum mode—but the officer simply tipped his hat and walked back to his cruiser, leaving her standing there, fuming.
Tool chuckled. “Damn, her best effort and she still couldn’t talk her way out of that one.”
Angel pushed off his bike as Layla stormed back toward her car.
“You gonna hook up with her again?” Tool asked, smirking.
Angel gave him alook. “Take a good look at that woman. She’s a tornado. Pops up, wreaks havoc, and disappears—leaving everyone else to clean up her mess.”
Tool didn’t miss a beat. “That wasn’t an answer.”
Angel sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Fuck yes, I’m gonna hook up with her again.” He smirked. “I never claimed to be smart when it comes to women.”
