Must Love Frosting (Must Love Diamonds 1)

But Loyal shook his head. “I want to get answers from this guy, not ambush him. Five of us at once will only make him defensive.”

CHAPTER 26

“Shit,” Asher muttered as they approached Grayson Cole’s driveway and saw two unmarked vans parked across the street. “We should’ve borrowed Roxanna’s Jeep. You know that’s the press.”

He switched his visor to the side window as the sliding door of the closest van opened and a camera man jumped out.

“Hang on.” Loyal took the turn fast enough to fishtail between the plastic Private Property and No Trespassing signs on either side of the gravel driveway, then gunned the gas. Thankfully, it appeared the guy’s house sat a decent distance from the road with trees in between to block the view.

Asher twisted to look out the back window. “Think they’ll obey the signs?”

“They fucking better.”

No one looked to be following, so maybe they wouldn’t make the news. He exchanged a look with Loyal as his brother parked his Audi Q8 rental next to a rusty, faded red F-250 a little after one p.m. Located ten minutes southwest of Boulder, the place was neat and clean, but no amount of tidiness could hide its age.

He ran his gaze over the weather-grayed boards on the small house while shutting his door to join Loyal in front of the vehicle. There was an uneven, moss-covered brick walkway leading to the front porch, but the echo of a hammer striking iron from the backyard drew them around to the back of the house. With each step they took, the quicker his pulse beat.

“Looks like he could do a lot with an influx of cash,” his brother groused in a low voice.

Asher cast him a sideways glare. “Probably not best to go in with accusations.”

Loyal didn’t bother with a reply.

On the other side of a rustic, chest-high fence, a tall, dark-haired guy in jeans and a T-shirt swung a sledge hammer against a metal stake. After a couple more blows, he sidestepped a few feet to start another, his movement disturbing a large, black and tan German Shepherd lying on the pat

chy grass.

As soon as the dog spotted them, it started barking and bounded across the yard to jump at the fence. They each took a cautious step back as Loyal called, “Grayson Cole?”

Without turning around, the guy let the hammer hang by his leg, and tipped his head back in obvious annoyance. “I already told you people I’ve got no comment, so take your stupid interviews and shove ‘em up your ass,” he hollered over the barking dog. “Now get the fuck off my property before I call the cops again.”

Noticing Loyal’s hands fisting at his sides, Asher laid a hand on his arm. “We’re not reporters,” he called. “Just wanted to introduce ourselves.”

“Call off the damn dog,” Loyal growled.

The guy turned around, his expression hard as stone. The moment he saw them, the sledge hammer slipped through his fingers, and the iron head thudded on the ground. After a moment, he bent slightly to grip the handle again, then adjusted his grip to the base by the steel head as he crossed the yard.

“Remy. Quit. Heel.”

The dog immediately stopped barking and trotted around to his left side. When he stopped by the fence, the dog obediently sat next to him.

Saying Loyal and him could pass as twins was an understatement. Discounting Grayson’s trimmed beard being a bit longer than Loyal’s scruff, they both had the same angled jaw, stood about the same height, and had the same pissed-off-at-the-world look in their dark, brown eyes.

Asher reached a hand over the fence. “I’m Asher. This is my, ah, brother, Loyal.”

The guy’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth pressed into a thin line at the word brother. Still gripping the sledge hammer in his fist, he ignored the handshake offer, and Asher pulled back when a low growl lifted the dog’s lips.

“I know who you are,” Grayson said brusquely. “What the fuck do you want?”

Asher blinked in surprise at his continued hostility.

Loyal bristled beside him. “That’s how you’re going to play this?”

“What?” He turned his free hand outward, palm up. “Did you expect a fucking hug or something?”

“Of course not,” Asher returned. “Basic manners would suffice.”

Loyal crossed his arms and braced his stance. “Why should he bother? The story is out. The check is probably clearing the bank right now. His job is done.”