Lancelot (The Theriot Family 3)

“No, and he isn’t going to find out.”

I loved when Remy gave me leverage over him. “He won’t if you allow me to correct this problem without any more insults and if you watch Tony while I do it.”

Corbin smiled. “I think that’s going to be a hard choice.”

“What’s your fucking plan?” Remington asked, and I knew I had him.

“Gwen, the other librarian, told me Julian loves beignets, and he often comes in early. First thing tomorrow, I’m going to take him some.

“Jesus Christ. What did I tell you when I sent you there?”

“To get the information no matter what.”

“I fucking hate you sometimes.”

I scowled at him. “That is literally what you said.”

“What else did I say?”

“To not be noticeable.”

Corbin sniffed. “You actually thought Lance could do that?”

“I was desperate.”

“I can tell.”

I scowled at them. “Fuck you all. I’m doing this my way.”

Remington snarled. “Do not do anything to get the police involved.”

“I’ve not been arrested yet, and I don’t intend to ever be.”

“Arrest is not the issue. We need to stay off the radar on this. We can’t let Carlotti know we have any suspicions he’s involved. I don’t want to jeopardize my contact. He’s also a friend.”

“You could have told me that to start with.”

Corbin huffed. “You know Remington likes to keep the details to himself.”

“Watch it.” Remington’s voice was like ice.

“You do. That’s not always wrong, but sometimes we need to know everything if we’re going to be useful.”

“Our baby brother is right,” I said.

“I have a lot of people relying on me to keep them safe, including the two of you.”

I shook my head. “I’m in this with you. You don’t have to protect me from anything.”

“Me either,” Corbin added. “I know Pop wants you in charge, and I guess since one of us has to be you’re the logical choice, not just because you’re the oldest but because you—”

“Have sense and self-control.”

Corbin grinned. “That’s part of it.”

“But we’re here for you,” I said. “Talk to us when you need to.”

“Fine, but if I’m going to talk, you need to actually listen.”

I grinned. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Me too,” Corbin added.

We stood, and we all hugged until Remington pushed us away. “Enough of that sentimental shit. Go home. I expect you to have the information we need tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, brother dear.”

“What can I do?” Corbin asked.

“Talk to Blackjack and see what he can find out about this necklace and why Carlotti wants it.”

Corbin looked thrilled to be fully included. “Aren’t they just after the money?

“There are lots of ways to get money. I think it’s more than that.”

“Then let’s find out.”

Corbin and I headed out. I dropped him off at Beau’s, then pulled out my phone and made a call. On the off chance I didn’t succeed with the beignets, I needed to find a copy of Down by Lilac Creek. If Blackjack couldn’t find me one, then one didn’t exist.

I woke up the next morning at an ungodly hour. Did Julian really get to work as early as seven some mornings? What time did he get up? How did he function? He probably went to bed at nine like an old man. I imagined him tucked into bed in a pinstriped pajama set reading a thick book, glasses perched on his nose. Why the hell was that so hot?

I felt my forehead with the back of my hand. Surely I’d developed some sort of delusional fever. No, my skin was surprisingly cool considering how hot it already was.

I arrived at the library just after seven with a box of beignets and two coffees. I’d almost gotten a tea as well. Julian seemed like a tea drinker, but I bet he drank coffee too. Didn’t all academic types pour coffee into themselves to stay awake while frantically studying minutia that would put anyone to sleep?

There weren’t any cars in the lot. I hoped that meant I’d beaten Julian there, though I suppose he could have walked, carrying a canvas tote bag full of books and eating an apple like a librarian in a picture book. Damn. That image was hot too.

Surely I was building his presence up in my head. He couldn’t really be as sexy as I imagined him.

A few moments later, a car pulled into the lot. It was an ancient Honda Civic that sounded like it was near death. I smiled when I saw Julian in the driver’s seat. When he opened his door and stood up, he turned toward my car, giving it a skeptical glance. The tint on the windows kept him from identifying me. I waited until he neared the door, then I grabbed the beignets and the drink tray and approached him.

“Good morning!”

He startled and dropped his keys.

“I would get those for you, but my hands are full. I brought you beignets.”