“What do you mean?”
She sighed. “Sasha is friends with Flynn Campbell. Flynn Campbell owns The Rex Hotel empire. Flynn is also old friends with Colt Weston, president of the Blue Angels. So, yeah, that’s the club your new plaything is in. They’re all involved in business together.”
My mouth dropped open as her words digested. “Business? Your fiancé is in business with Flynn Campbell? And an MC club?”
“Business,” she repeated. “You just had the best sex of your life with a man who’s deep in the criminal underworld.”
“I never said he was the best sex of my life,” I protested.
She laughed. “Honey, you didn’t have to.”
Chapter 12
Cool evening airteased my temples as I stood on Peyton’s doorstep. I rang the doorbell and a moment later she opened the door, looking fresh and casual in a pair of dark slacks, a cream sweater, and bare feet.
“You didn’t have to bring flowers,” Peyton said, waving me in across the threshold of her townhouse.
“Yes, I did.” I handed over the bouquet of white lilies and the bottle of cabernet and then removed my boots. “You offered to feed me. The least I could do was bring flowers. The wine was a given.”
Peyton beamed. “The flowers are lovely. And thoughtful. Thank you.”
The living room and the kitchen were one large room. The kitchen itself wasn’t overly spacious, but it had decent counter space and new appliances. Peyton had made her home warm and vibrant. Bright red and turquoise pillows accented the gray couch. A matching gray ottoman rested in front of the gas fireplace that was currently on, blazing with heat. Photographs graced the walls and leafy plants brought the entire space together.
I set my purse aside and was unable to stop myself from reaching for my cell phone. No missed calls or texts. I held in a sigh. Reason told me not to expect to hear from Boxer. Hope was telling Reason to shut the hell up. But after the way I treated him, I couldn’t blame him for not calling. And I was too chicken to call him.
So here we are.
“Bad news?” Peyton asked.
“Hmm?”
“Bad news,” she repeated. “You’re frowning.”
“Oh.” I hastily stuffed the phone back into my purse and stood up straight. “Not bad news. Just hoping to hear from someone.”
“Someone.” Her grin widened. “Yes! I finally get the details! Let’s open this bottle of wine. The chicken and rice are already in the oven; I just need to make a salad. And while I do that, you’re going to tell me everything that’s happened.”
I was talked out after having spent an hour on the phone with Quinn. My mind was a whirl.
“Do we have to?” I asked in exasperation. “Didn’t you get the details from Amanda and Lizzie?”
Peyton’s blue eyes twinkled. “I want the play-by-play from the source. You promised me.”
Peyton’s rescue cat slid out from underneath the couch and came to greet me. He walked through my legs, his tail curling around my calf. I reached down to pet him.
“Hello, Magic.”
He turned his head into my palm and purred as I scratched behind one jagged, scarred ear.
She opened a kitchen drawer and pulled out the wine opener. In a few deft moves, she had the bottle open and poured the wine into two glasses.
I took one of the glasses.
“Did you sleep with him?” she asked.
I nodded.
“And?”