“Oh, come on. It’s not a crowd. Two more people isn’t a big deal.”
Wes glanced at Rebecca and, for the first time, they were on the same side of the courtroom. She was about to list all the reasons why she could not spend the afternoon there and was hoping Wes would have more reasons of his own to add to the argument. But Marco cleared his throat, and Wes looked back to his brother. Something silent but effective must’ve passed between them. Because after a moment, Wes closed his eyes and shook his head. “Fine. The more the merrier.”
What? Rebecca’s mouth opened to protest, but she couldn’t get the words out before everyone else chimed in.
“Great,” Marco said.
Kincaid clapped her hands together. “Yay.”
Wes simply sighed. “Food needs to go up and into the fridge, or no one’s going to have anything to eat.”
Rebecca walked over to Kincaid while Marco helped Wes with the groceries, and she leaned close to her friend’s ear. “I’m going to kill you in your sleep. Slowly.”
Kincaid smirked. “No, you should be thanking me. I’m doing this as much for you as for me. You weren’t lying when you said your Good Samaritan was hot. Woo, boy.”
“Which completely doesn’t matter because he figured out who I am, and now he hates me.” Rebecca huffed. “I’m not feeling so fond of him either.”
“Oh, I doubt he hates you. Who could hate you?” Kincaid patted Rebecca’s arm. “Come on. It’ll only be an hour or so. Maybe y’all can talk it out. And it’s for a good cause.”
“What? Your love life?”
Kincaid bit her lip. “Well, the doc is super adorable. And smart. I love buttoned-up, brainy guys. They are usually full of surprises behind closed doors.”
Rebecca grunted.
“But if you need me to figure a way out…”
Rebecca glanced at Kincaid’s hopeful face and couldn’t bring herself to tell her to cancel. “You are going to owe me so big for this. Like, huge.”
“You’re the best.” She grinned and grabbed Rebecca’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go and let hot, angry guy cook for us.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes. That was how long it took for Marco and Kincaid to abandon Rebecca and Wes in the kitchen under the auspices of Let me show you the view from Marco and Does this building have original details? from Kincaid.
Kincaid had motioned at Rebecca as she slipped out of the kitchen, some invented sign language that probably meant Talk it out with the hot chef but looked more like a drunken game of naughty charades.
Rebecca had promptly flipped her off.
But now here she was. Alone with Wes again.
Wes stood behind the large island, black bandanna keeping his hair back, gray T-shirt putting all that colorful arm ink on display, and forearms flexing as he sliced and diced an onion with practiced precision. If not for the simmering annoyance, it would’ve been a nice show to watch from her spot sitting on a stool on the other side of the counter. But he hadn’t said a word to her since they’d gotten into the condo. Just chop, chop, chop and irritated grunts.
“Do you need any help?” she asked for lack of anything else to say.
“Can you help me murder my brother?”
“I was thinking we could get rid of them both in one go. How far is the drop from the balcony?” Rebecca tapped her chin. “We could make it look like an accident. I know someone who could defend us.”
Wes smirked.
The little break in the wall helped her relax some. “Why’d you give in anyway? I was about to get us out of it. I had a whole argument prepared. There were bullet points. Closing statements. We could’ve saved ourselves this lovely moment.”
He frowned and dumped the onions into one of the prep bowls. “Yeah, but you didn’t see the look on my brother’s face.” He pushed a basket of strawberries and a paring knife toward her. “Can lawyers hull strawberries?”
“Sure.” She took the berries and stole one of his empty prep bowls. “So what kind of look was that?”
“The don’t-ruin-this-for-me look. The remember-all-the-times-I’ve-helped-you-out look. That look.”