He turned off the water and dried her with a soft towel, then chuckled as she tried to close her eyes and snuggle against him. “Fine,” he whispered, picking her up and taking her into the bedroom. He had no clue where her clothes were, so he yanked one of his clean T-shirts out of his duffel and pulled it gently over her head.
Then he put her in bed, skipped his boxers, and climbed in beside her.
She cuddled against him immediately, her butt to his thighs. He liked that about her. A lot. In fact, there wasn’t much he didn’t like about her. Her yawn moved her entire body. “Oh. I forgot to tell you. I quit my job today.”
He stared into the darkness. “That’s big news. Why?”
As she told the story, he went from being curious to relieved to pissed off to impressed by her. “Wow.” He ran a hand down her arm. “I’m sorry.” He couldn’t imagine a father betraying his own daughter like that.
She shrugged. “Me too. I guess after I talked to my dad in California—the man I really feel is my father—I lost interest in trying to know this guy, who was just a sperm donor, really. Oh. By the way. My parents are coming into town in a week to visit, and my dad really wants to meet you.”
Angus grinned. He hadn’t done the meeting-the-dad thing in years. “Doesn’t he design jewelry?”
“Yeah. He’s really creative.” She yawned again. “Before that he was a marine.”
Angus’s eyes opened wider. “Interesting.”
She chuckled. “Yeah.”
“So. We’re doing this.” He felt too mellow to worry about it.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “You have the balls for it?”
He kissed the back of her head. “Yep.” He should be worrying or pushing her away, but he was done with all that. “No guarantees.”
She snorted. “Totally agree. We go slow and see if we even like each other. But we stop dancing around and pushing each other away. Just think of the energy we’ll save.”
The way she looked at life intrigued him. Though he didn’t have happily ever after to give anyone, not when he was going up against a genius sociopath once again, he’d give her what he had right now. The idea that she’d quit her job actually eased his mind a little bit. It’d be easier to keep her safe if she worked the case from Jethro’s well-secured apartment.
She pushed wet hair off her shoulders. “Now’s the time you tell me why you have a lump the size of Texas on your temple and were wearing somebody else’s clothes before getting into the shower.”
He paused. Oh, he’d dated before, but he’d always had to keep his work confidential. “How good a friend are you with Scott Terentson?” She had been the one to find the lawyer.
“Don’t really know him,” she mumbled. “He just came highly recommended.”
Well, that was something. “I got him shot today.” Angus gave her the full story, not liking the way her body tensed more with each sentence. “I checked in with the hospital after the cops were done with me, and he survived surgery but is still unconscious. He’s in ICU. It’s touch and go right now.” Guilt burned hot inside Angus.
Nari slipped her hand beneath his, where it rested on her bare thigh. “It wasn’t your fault. I take it the police took your clothing?”
“Yeah.” In fact, they were exploring the theory that he’d shot Scott for some reason, although they needed more proof before obtaining an arrest warrant. At least that was the official line. Angus didn’t think Tate really believed he was a killer. Well, probably.
Nari sighed. “This just keeps getting worse.”
The woman had no idea.
* * *
The murder board was illuminated by the morning light trying to filter through the clouds as Nari paced in front of it. She gingerly ate a leftover muffin from the day before, staring at the line of events depicted on it. It was interesting that Lassiter had not given away his identity at first; undoubtedly he’d been messing with Angus’s head. The psycho really did think this was a game. A game of chess against Angus Force.
The door opened and Angus brought in Roscoe. “It’s cloudy, but it finally stopped raining,” he said, hanging his leather jacket near the door.
He looked at the neatly organized file folders on the table and then the perfectly aligned murder board. “Ah. Okay.”
She tried not to blush. Organizing materials helped her to relax. “There’s coffee in the kitchen.”
“Bless you,” Angus said, turning immediately toward the stainless-steel coffeepot. He poured a generous mug. “Did Jethro head to work?”
“No.” Jethro strode out of his bedroom, dressed in dark slacks and a button-down shirt. “I don’t have classes on Tuesday, so I thought I’d take the day to assist you with the Lassiter case. What’s on the agenda?”
