Ty whistled. “Somebody burned down the office, huh?”
“Could be a coincidence. It was an older building—turn of the century. Wiring can be dodgy in those.”
“True. So hey, are you seeing the angelic Angie or what?”
Colt’s belly tightened. Was he? “Kinda.”
“Kinda. What does that mean?”
Colt unlocked the SUV and slipped into the driver’s side.
“It means,” he said, as Ty climbed into the opposite seat, “that we went on a date. It remains to be seen if we’ll go on another one.”
Ty’s brows lifted. “You’re kidding, right? That woman is hot. If you don’t want her, maybe I can take a stab at it.”
“No,” Colt growled. He didn’t bother to correct Ty that he wasn’t the one who planned to decide whether or not they went out again. That was up to Angie. Though maybe it was best for her if they didn’t, considering what Jace had told him about the guy who’d broken her heart. Maybe she just wasn’t ready. If she ghosted him, he wasn’t going to push.
Ty held up both hands in surrender. “Okay, man. Never mind. She’s yours. Or not if you don’t do anything about it. But whatever. Not my problem.”
“Sorry,” Colt said. “It’s complicated.”
“Always is with men like us, isn’t it?”
Colt knew what he meant. His jaw tightened. “The job.”
“It’s not easy to be with men who do what we do. But she’s Maddy Cole’s best friend, right?”
“Right.”
“And she survived being kidnapped by Calypso and then visited you in the hospital after you were shot.”
“Yeah.”
“I think she knows what she’s getting into, Colt.”
He wasn’t so sure.
Angie spent the day at home, working on accounts. She put on Pandora and listened to the Britney Spears channel. She didn’t care what anyone said, Britney was far more talented than people gave her credit for. The proof of that was how the hours slipped by while Angie sang along to Toxic and Oops I Did It Again, among others.
“I’m Britney, bitch,” Angie muttered while summing a column.
When the doorbell rang, she didn’t hear it at first. She finally realized the buzzing sound wasn’t coming from the song and she grabbed her phone to turn down the music. Then she hurried over to look out the peephole.
Colt.
Heat rushed from her belly to her cheeks and down into her toes. Whoa.
“Just a sec,” she yelled as she sprinted over to the hall mirror to check how she looked. Her hair was piled on her head in a messy bun, but at least she’d put on makeup this morning. She’d changed into yoga pants and a silky button-down top when she got home, but it was presentable.
Angie yanked open the door with a smile. “Hi.”
Colt looked a little gruff, a little intense—and a whole lot delicious. He was tall, with summer sky eyes and tightly cropped blond hair, and her insides melted just a little.
“Hey, babe. Mind if I come in?”
She stood back and held the door wider. “Not at all.” And she really didn’t mind. She’d talked to Colt so much over the past couple of days—in person, in text, and on the phone—that she felt comfortable with him. Being with him felt right somehow.
He strode in, then shrugged out of the black leather bomber jacket he wore.
She took it and put it over the back of a chair. “Is everything okay?”
He had on a black knit henley that clung to hard muscle, and faded jeans that accentuated things she didn’t need to stare at. She very deliberately kept her eyes on his face.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. I was nearby and thought I’d stop in and check on you. I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t call first.”
She glowed inside. What the heck was that all about? “I don’t mind. I was working anyway.”
Britney sang My Prerogative in the background and Colt arched an eyebrow. “Working music?”
Angie folded her arms beneath her breasts. “Britney makes time fly. And she keeps me tapping my toes.”
“Hey, it’s cool. I like Britney. I was on her security detail a few years ago.”
Angie’s jaw dropped. “You were? Wow.”
He shrugged. “It was just once. In Vegas when she was doing her show.”
“That’s so awesome. Did you talk to her?”
“Not individually. But she was nice to everyone.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I hate when you find out someone like that is a jerk and then you can’t buy more of their music.” She went over to the island where she snapped her laptop closed and turned down the music. “We’re all working at home for the foreseeable future. I drove by the building this morning. It’s awful.”
Colt followed. There were lines on his forehead from the frown he wore. “I saw it earlier. I’m sorry.”
“Do you think there’s something more to it?”
She kept thinking there must be, but what proof did she have? None.
He seemed to hesitate. Or maybe she only thought he did. “I don’t really know. It’s probably not related to Martinelli and the Cardinal Group, but we won’t know until the fire investigators file their report. That could take weeks.”
“So long?”
“It’s not like on TV. The investigators have a lot to analyze, not to mention the destructive power of fire on evidence.”
Angie frowned. She’d hoped there’d be answers a lot sooner. She wanted them so she could stop feeling this gnawing sense of unease in the pit of her stomach. “What about your people? The place you work seems, I don’t know, able to get things done a lot faster.”
“Often we can. But fire investigation really isn’t our thing. We’re more likely to be blowing things up than searching for evidence of arson.”
Angie sighed. Her stomach chose that moment to rumble. She pressed a hand against it. “Sorry. I guess it’s been a while since breakfast.”
“You haven’t eaten since breakfast?”
“No, but it was a big breakfast.” She’d had pancakes though she probably shouldn’t have. But they were so good and she’d been too upset about everything to deny herself.
Comfort pancakes. That’s what
