Dess let out a soft chuckle. “I feel kind of like I was hit by a small train.”
Her tussle with Julius and Talon yesterday wouldn’t have helped her healing, but she didn’t sound upset about it.
“Not a large one?” I joked.
“A large one would have finished the job,” she said dryly.
A laugh I didn’t have to force tumbled out of me. Dess didn’t strike me as a woman who put much stock in being funny. She seemed like she lived a serious life with serious problems, but she obviously didn’t let it get her down too much. I liked that about her too.
“Well, I’m definitely glad you didn’t meet one of those, then,” I said.
“No? It seems like I’ve messed with your job quite a bit.”
“Aw, totally worth it to have a pretty face like yours around instead of only having these lugs in sight.” I winked at her and gulped the rest of my pasta. Even a heaping plate always seemed to vanish so quickly.
Dess’s posture tensed. Maybe I’d said something that’d reminded her of her boyfriend’s comments. I chucked my plate and fork in the dishwasher and came back to lean against the island a little closer but not too close to her. “But hey, having a new voice with new thoughts in the mix is an excellent addition to the crew too.”
She relaxed enough for a sly glint to come into her eyes. “Does that mean you’ve considered my offer to check out the crime scene and see if I can help?”
“That’s Julius’s call. I’ll let him talk to you about that. But I can promise you that I have no doubt I’d enjoy your company.”
She gave me a bemused look as if she wasn’t sure how seriously to take me. “You hardly know me.”
The words echoed Garrison’s point—made with much darker intentions—so well that I had to counter it. “Well, everything I know, I like.”
Just then, a strand of her hair slipped from behind her ear to drift across her face. I reached automatically to tuck it back, my fingers just grazing her cheek—
Dess moved so suddenly I didn’t have time to so much as catch my breath. One instant I was touching her face, the next she’d lunged forward to shove me against the edge of the island, one forearm smacking the center of my chest and the other hand at my throat. There was no humor at all in her eyes now, only fury and… and something behind it that looked more like panic. The faintest tremor ran through her limbs against my body.
“Keep your hands off me,” she snarled, her voice somehow soft and yet full of the promise of death at the same time. My pulse stuttered. All at once I was sure she could kill me in the space of a second if she’d really wanted to.
“Get your hands off Blaze, or you won’t be around to have any opinions on what he does with his,” Julius said with just as clear a threat in his tone. He’d whipped up his gun from where he’d taken a seat at the corner of the island, and he aimed it at Dess. Talon had drawn his as well. I couldn’t see Garrison in my current position, but the click of a safety from several feet behind me told me that for all his snark, he’d leapt to my defense as well.
Dess jerked her hands back to her sides, with a wince as her braced wrist brushed her side. I stared at her for a moment before yanking my gaze away. The other guys gradually lowered their guns.
“I don’t want him touching me, or any of the rest of you either,” Dess said tightly, her gray eyes smoldering like embers. Then she sat back down on her stool and picked up her spoon as if she hadn’t just pinned me against the countertop like I was a fifty-pound child.
My throat didn’t even hurt, but my pulse was still racing. Someone had definitely hurt Dess before—bad. But she had more capacity to deal out hurt than I’d given her credit for too. I swallowed hard and stepped away.
I’d spoken up for her. I really hoped that hadn’t been the wrong call.