“Yes,” she said, moving gratefully toward him as he handed her a full mug. She took a strong gulp and let the heat fill her stomach. “Thank you.”
He gestured her toward the table before bringing over the bacon and a large plate of scrambled eggs heavily ladened with cheese. In the soft morning light, he looked large and dangerous in his faded jeans and ripped T-shirt that appeared to have a bear across the back. “I thought about us a lot last night. I screwed up, and I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
She rubbed her chin and sat at the table, her stomach growling. A badass Navy SEAL who could apologize? “I’m a bit unsettled with you right now.” But her body wanted to jump him. It wasn’t fair. Nobody should look that sexy in the morning.
“Yeah.” He sat and took a deep drink of his coffee. “That’s my fault. I’ll make it up to you.”
Saving her life by jumping into a freezing river went a long way. “Maybe we should cool it for a while, at least until I figure out who killed Hank,” she murmured, scooping eggs onto her plate, her mind befuddled. “We can’t work that case together any longer.” Not that he’d taken the sheriff job, because he still hadn’t.
He reached for the bacon. “That’s a good idea. Sorry again. I honestly didn’t want to hurt Monica or David and had banished that night and morning from my reality. Still should’ve told you, though.” He munched on a piece, his jaw hard. “Although if this case gets out, that info may end up public, whether we like it or not now.”
True. In a trial, a defense attorney would run with it. But she couldn’t worry about that. “Why didn’t Sheriff Blazerton include that info in the file?”
Brock shrugged. “He knew I didn’t kill Hank, and also, Monica was his niece. That must be why.”
Fine. “I need to speak with Ace. Could you send me his cell number?”
Brock glanced at his phone sitting on the table. “I texted him earlier and asked him to stop by. Hopefully before he's drinking.”
She paused in eating more eggs. “How bad is Ace’s drinking problem?”
Brock shook his head. “I don't think he's a raging alcoholic, but I do think he's using booze to deal with a plane crash he had last year. It's his story to tell, and frankly, I'm done waiting for him to tell me about it.” His gaze darkened. “That was off the record, Agent. Don't even think of using that information to push his buttons during an interview, or I'll tell him to take to the woods with Christian. Got it?”
His over-protective side could be both sexy and a total pain in her ass. “I’ve got it, so long as the plane crash doesn't have anything to do with my investigations.”
“He crashed a military jet, so I think you're safe,” Brock said wryly.
“Did this occur before or after Hank died?” Most situations in life were somehow related, she'd learned.
Brock finished off his coffee. “After and it had nothing to do with Hank's death. If Ace piloted a plane, he remained fully cognizant and in control of the situation. Period.”
“Fair enough.” She took another bite of the delicious eggs. “What do Ace and Christian think about Damian working for EVE?” She had no doubt Brock had told them and wanted to know their opinions before she interviewed them again.
Brock took more of the eggs and watched as the cheese stretched and then landed on his plate. “They’re happy that Damian is back in Alaska, and I believe they're looking forward to the four of us getting together sometime soon.” His tone remained level and calm.
Hmmm. Something told her that didn’t cover everything, but she remained on the outside, watching the four brothers handle things in their own secretive way.
The front door opened and Ace walked inside, kicking off snow gear.
Ophelia hid her surprise that he’d actually shown up.
Brock glanced his way. “Coffee's hot and we have eggs and bacon left.”
“Ate at the diner.” Ace strode on thick gray socks to the kitchen and poured himself a mug of the steaming coffee. He looked at Ophelia in that same direct way Brock had. “Understand you heard I had an affair with Tammy Randsom. I did. We hooked up after she and Leo divorced.”
Brock sighed. “I wish I hadn’t gone out of town for so long.”
Ace shrugged. “Not your fault. I came home after the plane crash and was still mourning Hank. It's an understatement to admit that I did not find myself in a good place. The affair lasted two weeks, and it turns out she also dated Fred Jeronimish at the same time.” He tipped back the mug and finished the entire contents. “It ended when I discovered that fact. Also, she andJarod tore up the sheets some, which absolutely pissed me off on Amka’s account.”
Ophelia lifted her head. “Did you tell Amka?”
Ace stared into his mug. “Yeah. I felt like a snitch and a shitty guy, but we've known Amka her entire life, and I couldn't let her marry that asshat. Yet they didn't break up.” His frown drew down his dark eyebrows. “Sometimes I just don't understand people.”
Ophelia made some mental notes to prepare for her upcoming interview with the bar owner. How angry was Amka with Jarod…and Tammy? “How do you feel about Damian being home?” Ophelia expertly switched topics, wanting him off balance. Somehow.
Ace glanced through the sliding glass door to the snow piled on the wide deck. “It's good to have D home. Although, if he doesn't actually head here into town, Christian is going to infiltrate EVE, and it's not going to be pretty.” He said the last as if directly to Brock. “As the sheriff, you probably have some sort of duty to cooperate with the EVE folks, right?”
Brock just glared at him.
