“No? I haven’t even told you anything,” Ethan protests with a huff of incredulous laughter.
“You told me enough. Find someone else to help you.” I look away, searching for Rachel. Where is my damn steak? I could use some distraction to choke down the question clawing at my throat.Shit.“Is Ben here too?”
Ethan lowers his eyes, his full, dark lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. When he meets my gaze again, my breath catches at the cold fury shimmering around him like a mirage.
“Ben’s dead.” His expression is as stark as his words. “He was murdered.”
I can’t inhale.Breathe.I have to breathe. “When was he ... when did it happen?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“Who?” I’m shaking now, and I bite down on my bottom lip until I taste blood.
“I don’t know.” He doesn’t look away, even as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat and shame clouds his eyes.
“You. Don’t. Know?” I welcome the surge of fury, because it overshadows the aching sadness spreading inside me. “You don’t know who killed your own brother? Didn’t you mention something about being a good PI?”
“I said I was good,” he snarls through clenched teeth.Good.I’m glad he’s angry too. Anger hurts less. “I didn’t say I was you.”
“I am not a PI.” I don’t want to remember the thrill of helping Ben with his cases—the surprise on his face every time I spotted something he’d missed, followed swiftly by a wide, proud smile.Ben.I smother the sob gathering in my throat. “I sell cigarettes at a shit casino.”
“Sunny, your instincts are sharper than anyone I know. Ben saw that. He used to say the only reason people thought he was the best PI out there was because they hadn’t met you.” Ethan leans close, and his voice drops to a harsh rasp as he says, “Ben isdead. Help me find his murderer.”
“Here you go.” Rachel places my plate too close to the edge, her eyes glued on Ethan. I’m too shell shocked to be annoyed. “And here’s yours, handsome.”
“Thank you.” He forces a smile. “It looks delicious.”
Rachel refills our coffee. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Shut up and eat,” I tell Ethan as soon as she’s gone. I inhale my rare steak and sunny-side up eggs even though my stomach screams against it. Hurling would be much more pleasant than discussing Ben’s murder. I gag and cough.Shit.I chug my coffee to push it back down.
“Are you okay?” He hasn’t touched his food. He stares at me with his dark eyes, concern clouding their depths. Ethan is worried about me, when he’s the one who lost his older brother. He’d hero-worshipped Ben.
“I’m fine,” I snap, clenching my hands under the table. I will not grieve Ben. I can’t. I left before I could care too much about him or Ethan so I wouldn’t have to hurt again. Had it already been too late?
“Please.” His voice breaks on the word as he implores past his pride. “For Ben.”
I look across the table at Ethan and see the helpless sorrow beneath his hard, arrogant veneer. He’s lost. Ben was his only family. Now he is as alone as I am.
“I’m late for work.” I slap down three crumpled twenties on the table and scramble to my feet. I need to move. Stillness invites emotion. Ethan slides out of the opposite bench and reaches for his back pocket. “Put your wallet away and walk with me.”
CHAPTER TWO
My uniform is hideous. Simple as that. It’s green, gold, andsosparkly. My neckline is a sneeze away from befitting a topless bar, and my skirt goes all of two inches below my ass. I force my long, thick hair into a tight bun to keep it from soaking up all the cigarette smoke, but it reveals the curve of my neck and leaves my shoulders bare. My uniform strips me of all modesty, so I shouldn’t care about showing a bit more skin, but I have to push away a twinge of discomfort as I walk out to the casino.
Ethan ignored my request to wait for me at the bar until my break. Instead, he’s leaning against a column across from the employee locker room, his shoulders loose and his thumbs tucked in his pockets. But his relaxed pose doesn’t hide the coiled energy emanating from him. My pulse picks up as though I’ve sensed a predator.
When he sees me, he pushes off the column and stalks toward me, his eyes drawing a line of fire from the top of my head down to my toes. My body heats and tenses under his gaze. He stops less than a foot away from me. Neither of us speaks. Neither of us looks away. What the hell is happening?
“Nice outfit.” He recovers from whatever passed between us quicker than I do. “Are you supposed to be a sexy leprechaun?”
“You think I’m sexy, eh?” I force myself to smirk even as my stomach flutters at his offhand compliment.
“Yes.” His full lips quirk into a lopsided grin, and my heart turns over. “For a leprechaun.”
“Well, leprechauns are mean sons of bitches,” I say evenly, then show him my teeth in a vicious smile. “So I suggest you go get a drink at the bar before I bite you.”
“If you’re trying to convince me to leave”—his eyes drop to my lips, which part without my permission—“you’re not doing a very good job.”
