Mal stood, almost eye to eye with him. “I’m sure it’s perfect. Now let me stitch you—” He paused, swiveling back toward the sliding glass door.
A light footstep on his patio caught Wolfe’s attention. “Pippa’s coming.” He glanced at the bloody towels. “Go, now. I’ll take care of the mess.”
Mal paused for a second and then nodded, already moving to the door. “If you need me to stitch you up—”
“I don’t,” Wolfe interrupted. “A couple of stitches is nothing new.” Unfortunately, true words.
“Copy that.” Mal slipped outside, heading off Pippa, their voices quiet as they returned to their house. Wolfe shuddered. What had he been thinking to take Malcolm to that area of town?
“It wasn’t your fault,” Dana said, once again looking his way.
Sometimes he thought she could read minds. Nobody had ever seen him so clearly before, and that wasn’t a good thing. Her words were so blatantly wrong that Wolfe didn’t bother replying. Instead, he took Mal’s vacated seat and reached for another clean needle.
Dana audibly swallowed. “I can do that if you want.”
The woman would probably pass out. “That’s okay. Not my first time.” He took a lot less care with his skin than he had Mal’s, then slapped on a bandage and faced Dana. “The men in the truck were after you, not me, and I think you should lie low until we figure out why.” Risking her wasn’t an option.
She blinked. “You’re giving me orders? After being shot at—again?”
He stiffened, his skin prickling. The world was closing in and he was losing control. That could not happen. “Did you not hear me? They were after you.”
“Then I’m getting close.” Her chin rose. “That’s a good thing.”
He took his time exhaling, trying to manage his emotions. From the second those bullets had crashed through the glass, and he’d realized he’d put another one of his team into danger, he’d been on edge. “You don’t want to argue with me today, sweetheart.” He gave her the full truth.
She stood and gathered the bloody towels. “The heck I don’t. Bring it on, Wolfe.” Her exit was stalled by her phone going off on the table. She sighed, lifted it up, and declined the call.
Oh, he was too close to losing it. Way too close. “Who keeps calling that you’re ignoring?” Focusing on this problem, for a moment, gave him a needed reprieve from the shit show his life had just become. “Dana?” He didn’t like the irritation in her eyes.
“Nobody.” She turned again, and the phone went off again.
Smoothly, he snaked out a hand and grabbed the phone from her. He was being an ass, but at this point, he just didn’t care. He pressed the speaker button and set the phone on the table.
Dana’s glare could melt concrete. “Hello?” she muttered.
“Dana. It’s about time you answered my calls.” The voice was male with what sounded like a Northern accent. Maine, probably.
She shook her head, her gaze leveling Wolfe. “I didn’t mean to answer. Stop calling me, and definitely stop calling my parents to find me. We’re done. Got it?”
Wolfe cocked his head. When he’d met Dana, she’d been home covering a story about river guides. Hadn’t somebody mentioned that she was just out of a relationship with a guy she never should’ve dated? Was this the guy? If so, he didn’t seem to be getting the hint.
The guy sighed loudly through the phone, raising Wolfe’s hackles. “Listen to me. I’m sorry about what happened, and I really would like to apologize in person. Please forgive me.”
“You’re forgiven, Mike,” she said, shuffling the bloody towels to her other arm.
Wolfe sat back and crossed his arms. It was that easy? What the heck was happening, and what did good ol’ Mike do in the first place?
Even Mike seemed taken aback. “Well, okay. Thanks, then. When can we get together?”
Dana drew air in through her nose. “Never. You’re forgiven and all of that, but I’m not going back. So please move on and stop calling me.”
“Now that’s just silly,” Mike said, his voice turning charming. “I’m going to be at Sally’s wedding next weekend, and she wouldn’t have invited me if there wasn’t still a chance for us. Maybe I can finally meet your parents.”
Pink bloomed across Dana’s cheekbones. “Sally invited you because she doesn’t like me but loves drama. Don’t come.” At Wolfe’s raised eyebrows, her own rose. “Or come, if you want, but you have to know that I’m going to be busy and have no intention of going out with you again. Though I do wish you well.” The last was said on a rush.
Mike’s chuckle was like bone scraping bone. “Come on, Dana. You have to at least save me a dance.”
“No, she really doesn’t,” Wolfe said quietly. “Believe me. Her date won’t like it.”
