The Wrong Man (Alpha Men 3)

She didn’t acknowledge either of them when she sat down, merely summoned Suzy over and ordered a glass of red wine, leaving both of her lunch companions to stare at her in surprise.

“What? I can’t have some wine with my lunch?” she snapped, and Daff’s eyebrows went straight to her hairline.

“Okay, asshole, what did you do to upset her?”

“Me? Ask her creepy boyfriend, Ichabod Crane. He’s the one who came slithering over and embarrassed her in front of half the town.”

“Icha—wait, do you mean Grantley Marsh?” Daff asked Sam with wide eyes.

“Gregory,” Lia corrected automatically. Daff ignored her interjection, keeping her eyes on Brand’s face.

“Lanky fucker, wears bow ties, has the beginnings of a comb-over and a gigantic Adam’s apple?” Brand elaborated for Daff’s benefit.

“Ugh, where did you run into him?”

“Homeless shelter,” Brand said concisely. Lia refrained from saying anything. Her drink arrived and she smiled gratefully at Suzy before downing half the huge glass in one gulp.

“Oh, of course, the bank’s across the street from the homeless shelter,” Daff breathed with a slight shake of her head before elaborating. “He’s the bank manager.”

“That explains that, then.”

“And he confronted Lia?” Daff looked completely thrown by that information. Like someone had just told her that they’d taught a monkey to talk.

“Full on,” Brand said grimly, his face going dark at the recollection. “Grabbed her arm and asked her why she hasn’t been returning his texts. Why haven’t you been returning his texts, Lia? I thought he was your guy?”

“That bastard?” Daff asked, her voice dripping with scorn. “No way. He’s a handsy asshole who thinks grinding himself up against an unwilling woman counts as foreplay.”

“What?” Brand’s eyes narrowed and his head whipped to Lia as if seeking confirmation, but she didn’t feel like confirming or denying anything. She just wanted to drink her wine and pretend the other two weren’t there. She averted her gaze and stared off into the middle distance. Refusing to acknowledge either of them until the wine had mellowed her mood a bit. But apparently her refusal to speak was enough of a confirmation for Brand, if his next words were anything to go by. “That motherfucker! I should have torn him apart.”

He looked set to do so, too, Lia observed, taking another calming sip of wine. His good palm braced against the tabletop, as if he meant to push himself up and go Gregory hunting. She’d never seen him look so angry before, and she found it both gratifying that all that rage was on her behalf and intimidating when she knew he was fully capable of maiming or killing with his bare hands.

“Calm down, Brand, it’s none of your business,” she said, injecting a measure of unruffled coolness into her only slightly shaky voice.

“What did he do?” Brand asked, his voice still holding that dangerous edge.

“Nothing. We just kissed, that’s all.”

“‘We’? As in you and he? As in you were a willing participant in this embrace?” he asked tersely, and she shrugged.

“I knew he was going to kiss me. I was prepared for it.”

“Prepared? What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Lip gloss? Breath mints? Tongue exercises?” Daff asked, also seeking further clarification, and Lia glared at her sister, who was so not helping.

“Did you wear the juicy bubblegum-flavored lip gloss for him?” Brand growled dangerously, and both Lia and Daff gaped at him.

“What? No! That’s not what I meant. I meant I knew he was going to kiss me. It was our third date, and I expected some kind of physical escalation from him.”

“How far did this ‘physical escalation’ go, sunshine?” More dangerous growling, combined with lip curling and nostril flaring. He was fascinating, like a territorial male animal.

“A kiss. Our first. With tongue.” She wrinkled her nose at the recollection. “He’d had garlic, though, so it wasn’t exactly what I’d been hoping for.”

“And that’s all? A disgusting, garlic-flavored kiss.”

“This is really none of your concern, Brand,” she tried again, not comfortable discussing this with him, but this time Daff chimed in.

“Oh, he grabbed her tit and rubbed himself against her,” she elaborated, clearly wanting Brand to kill Gregory and go to prison for murder, thereby effectively killing two birds with one stone. Her sister could be pretty devious at times.

Brand swore and was halfway out of his seat this time before Lia sighed and clamped a hand around his left wrist.

“Sit down, Brand. You don’t get to play this role in my life.”

“What role?” he asked between clenched teeth.

“Hero.” The word made him pause, and his eyes narrowed before he released a furious breath and sat down heavily.

“We’re letting the matter go now,” she said, quite proud of her level voice as she aimed a warning look at both Daff and Brand.

“If he approaches you again . . . ,” Brand said, his voice fading as he left the rest unspoken.