“Sit,” he demanded. He waited until she finally gave up her stance and flounced down on the couch. “What were you doing around my house this early in the morning?”
“As I said, I was just walking around.”
“Yeah, around the window casements,” Cowboy added with a snort.
“You can’t seriously believe these men that I was doing something wrong.”
While he’d never expected something like this from Barbie, he believed his men. “Actually, I do believe them. They have no reason to lie. You, on the other hand, do.”
“Well, I never.”
“Give it up, you’re not Southern,” Danny said.
“Okay, so I looked around your place. It’s a nice one, and I missed our time together. I hoped to get a glimpse of you.”
“In legal terms, they call that stalker behavior,” Doc added.
“I did nothing wrong,” she insisted.
Moira made an appearance, dressed for the day.
“What are you still doing here?” Barbie asked Moira.
“I’m a guest. You, on the other hand, appear to be a criminal. Is that what woke us?”
Danny cringed inside. Not that he planned to hide his relationship, but he did not want to hash it in front of Barbie.
“Us? Us?” Her voice rose with each word.
“That’s none of your concern. Now what were you planning to do with that rock?” Cowboy asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She kept her gaze on Danny. “I can’t believe you’re sleeping with the Irish slut.”
Moira flew across the room and slapped Barbie. Lightning fast, he grabbed Moira and pulled her back, and the men grabbed Barbie before she jumped up. A cat fight was the last thing he wanted to see this early in the morning.
“That’s it. I’m pressing charges,” Barbie screeched.
“Go ahead. We’ll let them know how you came to be here,” Moira taunted back.
“That’s enough. What to do with you?” he directed to Barbie.
“Well,” Barbie said seductively, “you could kick the bitch to the curb and invite me back to your bed.”
“First, I’m not kicking Moira anywhere. Second, you were never in my bed.”
“It’d only have been a matter of time.”
The woman was batshit crazy. Then a thought hit him. “Have you broken in here before?” The destruction of Moira’s studio had been personal. That sounded like something Barbie would do. Well, after her potentially breaking in today, he’d say that. Before today, he’d just thought her full of vile words.
“No.” Barbie looked away as she said it.
“Son of a bitch,” Danny said.
“Looks like we’ve got your vandal,” Cowboy said.
“I didn’t destroy her studio. You’ve got the wrong person.”
Danny stiffened. “We never said studio. We just said vandal.”
“Well,” Barbie blustered, “it’s the word on the street about it.”
“No,” Danny said, “we never spoke of it so it couldn’t be on the street.” He was glad he still held Moira because she was blistering for a fight. “Calm down,” he whispered to her.
“I’m going to kill her,” she whispered back.
“No. She’ll get hers.” His voice held strength in that conviction.
“Why’d you do it, Barbie? Why destroy something in my house?”
She pointed to Moira. “It’s her. We had a date, and if it wasn’t for her, we’d be dating again.”
They wouldn’t, but he thought to keep that to himself for the moment. “But this was my house you vandalized.”
“But it was her stuff, not yours. I took special care of that.”
The thoughts of a crazy mind always baffled him. Still holding Moira back, he whispered to her, “Please go in the kitchen. Maybe make some coffee.” She stiffened, then with a jerky nod, swept out of the room.
He sat on the couch, keeping his distance from Barbie, and nodded to Cowboy who left the room, phone in hand. When she made to slide closer, Doc’s big hands grabbed her shoulders. “Stay,” the medic said.
“You broke the law and destroyed stuff I cared about.”
“But it was hers,” she spat.
“Yeah, and I care about her. A whole lot.”
“But you can care about me again.”
“No. That ship sailed. Now, you’re going to be arrested for breaking and entering, along with vandalism.”
“What? You can’t do that to me.” Desperation laced her voice.
“I can and I am. Cowboy is calling BPD to come pick you up. Until then, you’ll remain right here under Doc’s watchful eye.” He stood and walked to the kitchen, ignoring Barbie’s screeches of protest and love.
Moira’s tense posture told him she was still pissed. Whether at him or Barbie, he wasn’t sure, but he had to test the water. “Cowboy’s calling the cops. She’ll pay for what she did.”
“You should’ve just let me beat her arse.”
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His little spitfire minx. “While I would’ve loved to see two women go at it, ripping off shirts and all, it’s best to let the law take care of it.”
He opened his arms, and Moira went into them with her head on his chest.
“I’m not sure whether to be happy or worried that she did this and not Boyle. Having one more person after me doesn’t feel good.”
“Honey, she’s some wacko I made the mistake of dating. She’s not a major threat like those from Ireland.” If he meant to soothe her, those words probably didn’t, but it was too late to take them back.
“I want to call my best friend back home. She’s got to be worried sick about me.”
He didn’t like it but had a feeling this event called for a BFF to talk to about it. “I’ll see what we can do. Now, we can’t go back to bed since the police are on their way, but how about we make the group some pancakes?”
“Sounds great.”
She didn’t pull away from his chest, seeming content in his arms a while longer. That was fine by him. But he needed to make sure that call happened for her. He’d do anything to make her happy.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
After seeing Barbie led out by
