Rowe waved his hand, brushing off the comment as he looked back down at his empty desk. “Yeah, whatever. He worries too much. I’m fine.”
Ian didn’t believe a word of it, but he dropped the subject, going back to what he’d overheard while in the bathroom. “Why the new research? And Rialto? What’s my restaurant got to do with Jagger?”
Rowe shrugged, but when he looked up at Ian, his expression had softened. “Hopefully nothing. But there has to be a reason for his current hard-on to see us dead. It didn’t come out of nowhere. Something happened. We crossed his fucking path without knowing it.”
“And if we know why, then we can fix it.”
Rowe’s expression changed and he looked away from Ian. He was hiding something.
“Say it,” Ian snapped, his voice growing colder. He could accept their overprotectiveness, but he hated when they hid stuff from him. “Really, Rowe. Just tell me.”
“There’s no fixing this.” There was a ruthless, almost cruel edge to Rowe’s words, something he’d never seen before in the man, bringing up a rush of guilt that nearly choked Ian. Rowe would never be like this if Mel had survived. “But knowing the reason could give us an angle on how best to hit Jagger to end this once and for all.”
“You don’t think that fire was an accident.”
“I don’t.” Rowe fiddled with a pen on his desk. “Lucas is going to send over the final investigative report when it’s ready, but the fire inspector spoke with him and gave him his preliminary findings. There was an accelerant found and not one of the more common ones like gasoline. It also looks like the entire sprinkler system was taken out, which had been checked by the inspector just earlier that day. This fucker is a professional.”
“But how do you know this was Jagger? Lucas has had other attempts on his life and businesses that have nothing to do with Jagger.”
“Other than the impeccable timing of everything, we don’t. But until then, and I want no arguments, I’m going to send one of my guys with you again.” He held up a hand when Ian opened his mouth. “I said no arguments.”
“Of all my friends, you’ve always been the first to remind everyone that I’m a grownup.”
“Yeah, and I also insisted on Lucas having a guard when he was in danger. And he has a hell of a lot more training than you do.” He leaned forward. “Speaking of which, why don’t you start coming back in for more? I know you slowed it down because of the restaurant and I get it, but I have the gym and trainers here and it’s free.”
“I’m not taking advantage of you like that.”
Rowe’s mouth fell open and true anger darkened his expression. “Since when is that taking advantage? What the hell is up with you?”
Ian sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Sorry. I’m just tired.” And horny. He kept that to himself. Especially since he knew for a fact Rowe hadn’t been physical with anyone since his wife’s death.
“You were rubbing your leg.” Rowe cleared his throat, looked away for a long moment before he looked back. “It still hurt?”
“Sometimes.” Ian hurriedly changed the subject. He hated talking about the accident and the pain he still carried from it. Mostly he just hated seeing the grief white-wash Rowe’s skin when the subject came up. “Do you have solid proof that I’m in danger?”
Rowe shook his head. “No, but the timing? Jagger being acquitted this week. We were all in one location in public and relatively easy to access. The timing is perfect for all the shit to start up again.”
Ian held his breath a moment, then decided because it was Rowe, he could speak his mind. Sometimes talking about his years with Jagger got Snow and Lucas too worked up. Rowe had always been more of the “get angry and use fists,” then “let it go” type. “There is no reason for Jagger to go after me. He liked me young and small. I’m too old and too filled out for him so there is no way he’s looking to get me back and if he were for some crazy reason, he’d just have me plucked off the street.”
“We know he sent Gratton after us.”
“Then there had to be another reason and it can’t have had anything to do with me.”
Lips twisting in a grimace, Rowe leaned forward and crossed his arms on his desk. “Ian, the man wasn’t ready to give you up at eighteen. You don’t look much older than that now.”
Ian glared at him.
“Sorry, but you haven’t changed that much. Yeah, you seem older and your face has matured, and yeah, you’ve filled out some, but you’re still the small, slim, cute guy he…liked.”
“You forget, he did give me up. And stop calling me small. I only seem that way because Lucas and Snow are so big and because you’ve got some kind of gym fetish going on. Plus, you’re like an inch taller than me.”