“Foxy,” he greets cheerfully.
“Fuckface,” I shoot back in the same tone.
Colt makes a cooing sound like I’m adorably amusing. I roll my eyes and push my fingers through the damp hair curling over my forehead.
“There was a warrant for impound out on your car and your bike. Two more popped up after I took care of the first one. I dropped a little present in their reporting system that’ll crawl for any others and scramble them. You’re welcome.”
It figures Richard is trying to flex his power now that I’m getting closer.
“Thanks. I found something new. Jacqueline Landry skipped out on her normal schedule and when I traced her, she turned up at this remote address. It was another warehouse, looked shady as fuck. There was a logo on the place. SynCom.”
“Maybe a meeting?”
“That’s my thought. I sent it to you. See what you can pull on it? I’m thinking it’s some kind of silent investor Nexus Lab doesn’t want anyone to know about. Maisy confirmed it’s connected when she told me Jacqueline’s paychecks are paid through this company instead of the public front.”
“Oh?” Colt’s tone goes light and teasing. I can clearly see the kind of expression he has right now—grinning with his tongue stuck in his cheek while he spins around in his stupid fancy gamer chair. “Your little flower is playing ball now?”
I grunt and he chuckles. I haven’t told him yet about how things have changed for me, but he’s always teased me about her, especially when I found her on Instagram before I came back to Colorado. Staring at her photos for hours was so I could learn what I needed to, but he always thought it was more. Now I realize he was probably right. Asshole always sees through people, picking up on what they don’t want found out.
“She’s…yeah.”
Luckily he lets it go instead of picking at it because he’s a nosy bastard. The conversation jumps around for a few minutes while he gives Maisy’s phone the same treatment he’s given to mine and the Crows, making it untraceable. The water shuts off in the bathroom.
I trail off mid-sentence, gaze zeroed in on Maisy walking out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam. She’s wearing one of my t-shirts again and I fucking know she’s not wearing anything underneath because my wildflower likes her freedom. Her damp hair falls around her shoulders and she shoots me a crooked grin that makes my pants feel tighter with just one look. God, she’s heaven and a curse wrapped into one perfect girl.
“Fox?” Colton prompts when the silence has stretched for a minute.
“Uh, yeah.” Shit, what was I saying?
Maisy circles behind me on the couch and wraps her arms around my shoulders, giving me a kiss when I angle my head toward her like a moth to a flame, unable to focus on anything but her. She hums into it and I can feel the curve of her smile.
“Is that your brother?” she murmurs when we part.
“You’ve got company,” Colt says knowingly. Fucker probably has the biggest shit eating grin right now. “Hey sweetheart. You sound hot. Tell me you’re hot.”
Maisy snorts, shooting me an amused glance as she comes around to sit next to me. I leave her be for a minute before giving in and dragging her onto my lap.
“Sure.”
She says it without any shyness, owning herself. My arms tighten around her middle and my love for her expands in my chest. I inhale and the corners of my mouth twitch up. She still smells like flowers and coconut, but now there’s something else.
Me.
After the shower and spending hours together, she smells like she’s mine. It sends a pleased jolt through me.
“Confident,” Colt says with a hum. “I like it.”
Her light laughter makes something tug with want in my stomach. “It’s not for you, sweetie,” she says slyly. “I do it all for me. Everything else is bonus points.”
“Oh, damn. I think I just fell in love. Marry me?”
A brief rush of jealousy flares, but I tamp down on it. My brother isn’t a threat, but I can’t help how possessive I feel about her—how possessive I’ve always felt around her. Maisy as a kid knew her worth and spoke out when she had an opinion, but as a woman her matured sense of self-assuredness is sexy as fuck.
“Sorry, Fox promised he’d marry me when he was nine. It was a proposal complete with a flower. You’ll have to get in line.”
All the air in the room feels like it’s sucked out. She remembered my promise to her?
My throat bobs as I swallow and absently stroke her thigh, inching my fingers beneath the shirt and finding nothing but her warm skin. I squeeze a handful of her ass and nuzzle my face into her neck, trailing kisses and fighting the urge to leave another mark to claim her. I can’t help how tactile I’ve become with her around, like I have this constant need to touch her in some way.