“I didn’t,” Dane said, clearly appalled.
“But you’re not out looking for him.”
“I was looking for you!” The strobing, colorful lights overhead cast his pale skin in strange and sickening hues. Dane’s expression was earnest. “I had to make sure you were okay. I have deputies out searching for Lenny.”
“He’ll go after them,” Izzy said.
Dane paused, then nodded. “I think so too.”
It was all so hard to think about with her head still spinning. Izzy backed up, reaching behind her for a stool to settle on.
“I know you’re worried about Arthur and your sister,” Dane said. “But we’ll find them, Isobel.”
“I know.” She believed him. So why didn’t his words comfort her?
Dane hesitated. “I brought Esther to June’s on my way over so I can stay at your place tonight if you or your dad need anything.”
Thoughts of her father pierced through the haze. She hadn’t meant to be gone this long. How much time had passed?
“I’ll rejoin the search tomorrow morning.”
Izzy huffed. “I don’t need a babysitter.” She spun to face the bar and snatched up an abandoned glass of beer, which Dane immediately plucked out of her hand.
“Hey!”
“You don’t want that, Isobel.”
The syllables of her name slid over his tongue in the most intoxicating way.
In her boozy haze, his eye contact felt deliciously bold.
Dane rolled up his sleeves. Careful. Precise. Ridiculous, given the venue. She let out a wet, derisive snort. If Prince Charming was trying to keep his shirt clean, he’d come to the wrong place. The surfaces in Dawson’s were always sticky, the air always thick with booze. Drinkers spat their sunflower seeds onto the floor and threw darts at a hay bale with a spray-painted boob in place of a target. If you hit the nipple, you got a free beer.
He didn’t belong in a place like this.
He didn’t belong withher.
Dane lifted her chin. His touch made the rest of the room around them blur. It was a little unfair he could pull her in like this when her focus was in tatters. She wanted to undo him, not the other way around.
Tears came to her eyes.Dammit. Izzy never cried unless she was drunk. “Why do you still defend him?” Izzy was proud of the words because they didn’t slur. Drunk Izzy didn’t slur. Drunk Izzy didn’t wobble. Drunk Izzy didn’t get sad.
Dane sighed. “I think drunk Izzy should have some water.”
She frowned. Had she said that out loud?
Dane signaled to Priya, who appeared holding a bottle, the traitor. “Drink,” he said.
A hiccup closed her throat. “I was”—hic—“drinking.” She made to push his offering away but knocked the bottle over instead.
Dane caught it, then unscrewed the cap with a sharp twist. “Drink water, love.”
Izzy consented to a grumpy sip, still waiting for his answer.
“I do not defend my brother. I’m… trying, failing maybe, to make amends.”
“With him?” she scoffed.
Dane’s eyes never strayed. “Is that so hard for you to understand?”
