I look up and see a guy who looks like a thinner version of Dean—tall, hazel eyes, and broad shoulders.
Dean rushes over with a crying Fia. “Flip?”
DEAN
My little brother is standing in my apartment, and Tony Rigatoni is out cold on the floor.
I reach for Flip and hug him tight, trying not to crush a hysterical Fia. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but, man, am I happy to see you.” I release him and bask in the wonderful absurd luck that he showed up when he did. “What are you doing here?”
“I left rehab.”
Crap. He did this last time—said all the right things, pretended to follow the program, took his meds. He behaved just long enough so he could get out early. Which means he’s back on drugs again.
My heart sinks. But now is not the time to get into it. Mike is dead, people are tied up in my living room, and there’s an unconscious killer on my floor.
“No, Dean,” Flip says, reading my thoughts. “It’s not like that.”
“I wasn’t—”
“I see it on your face, bro. You think I’m free and looking to party. But I’m not. I’m working hard. I got clean and earned a spot at a halfway house.”
“You have?”
“You’d know that if you bothered answering my calls.”
“I tried calling you back, but—” I run a hand through my hair. “You’re right. I should’ve tried harder. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m glad you’ve been MIA lately. It made me realize I needed to do this on my own. I needed to prove I could make it through the program and stay clean on the outside.”
This is amazing. In the past, he only did the bare minimum so he could get out and go back to drugs. “I’m really proud of you.”
“Guys,” Lara barks, picking up Tony’s gun off the floor and shoving into her waistband, making her look dangerous. So hot! “Can you save the family reunion for later? I need help untying everyone. And it would be great if someone called the police before Mr. Kitchen Magic wakes up.” She looks at Flip. “By the way, it’s great to meet you.” She goes right in and hugs Flip. “How did that even happen?” She glances at Tony on the floor.
Flip shrugs. “He opened the door, and I recognized him right away. The news showed his face right after you held that conference before the game.”
Finally. Those stupid reporters are good for something. “What did you hit him with?” I ask.
“My fists. Finally paid off growing up in that shitty neighborhood.” Flip bobs his head at Tony, looking proud of his handiwork. For the first time in a long time there’s life in his eyes. He looks good. Healthy.
“Fia, meet your uncle Flip.” I hand over my crying daughter.
“No. I can’t hold her…” He takes her anyway, and Fia immediately stops crying.
“She likes you.” We might have a future sitter. Not now, of course, but I can be hopeful. Today has been a day of miracles, after all. I’m alive. My family’s okay. And Tony is no longer a threat. Plus, touchdowns.
I look at the unconscious piece of shit on my floor and give him a hard kick to the ribs. “That’s for Marli.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
LARA
Dressed in a white T-shirt and a pair of black boxer briefs, Dean slides between my champagne-colored satin sheets and sits against the headboard next to me, smelling sexy as ever. Baby lotion and mint toothpaste mixed with his natural woodsy scent. He looks exhausted, not that I can blame him. What a freaking day—press conferences, a football game, and nearly dying.
I’ll just have to forgive him for not bothering to check out what I’ve got hidden underneath my floral comforter: pink panties and my pink satin PJ top.
“Wow. Fia must’ve been tired,” I say. “It only took you two minutes to get her to sleep.”
“We’ve all had a very long day,” he says, shrugging off his awesome daddy skills. The man is a natural.
“I’m still blown away that your brother showed up like that.” I didn’t used to believe in divine intervention, but after today, I’m going to start.
“Neither can I. It was a close call.” The cheery light in Dean’s hazel eyes dulls.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Nothing. It’s just, I’ve spent my entire life rescuing Flip and…”
I don’t know much about Flip other than what’s been made public as part of Dean’s story. “And? How does it feel to have him rescue you for once?”
“Like I’m living in a dream—the type that’s too good to be true.”
“Oh, poor you. Is your life just too awesome to handle now? Must suck.” I grin.
“No. I’m serious. I’ve lived my life being focused on having a plan to get me to a goal. It was all about buckling down, responsibilities, and making sacrifices.”
“You’re a hard worker. I respect that about you.” I’ve never met anyone as driven as Dean.