Page 53 of Sizzling Desire

I exhale sharply, shaking my head. “I don’t have time for this.”

Hudson grabs a beer from the fridge—at nine in the goddamn morning—and pops it open. “Oh, you have time. We’re making sure of it.”

Declan leans against the counter, eyes sharp. “Unless, of course, you’d rather sit here and stew over whatever shit is running through your head.”

My jaw tightens. They know. Of course, they know. Nothing stays secret with these guys.

I glance toward the note still clenched in my fist, then back at the group of nosy bastards waiting for me to argue. I could say no. Could tell them all to get the hell out.

But the idea of sitting here, alone, replaying the last twenty-four hours over and over in my head? Yeah. Not happening.

I exhale through my nose, then roll my shoulders. “Fine.”

A round of victorious grins meets my answer.

Hudson slaps me on the back. “Atta boy.”

Trevor grabs another beer and tosses it to Ian. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Ian snags the can out of the air and grins. “And just so you know, Kane—” He lowers his voice. “If you keep acting like a moody bastard, we’re throwing you overboard.”

I shake my head, but there’s a flicker of something in my chest. Something almost like relief.

Because, for the first time since Grace walked away, I don’t feel like tearing something apart.

The water is calm, the morning sun reflecting off the waves as the boat drifts farther from shore. It’s peaceful, the kind of quiet that should settle me, but my mind keeps drifting back to Grace. To where she is. To whether or not she’s safe.

Hudson casts his line, lounging back in his seat. “So… are we going to talk about why you look like you want to commit murder, or are we just going to ignore it?”

I reel my line in a little too fast, my grip tightening. “Not in the mood, Hudson.”

Trevor leans back, adjusting his sunglasses. “That’s too damn bad because we are.”

Ian chuckles. “You’re sulking.”

Declan grins. “It’s pathetic.”

I grit my teeth. “I’m not sulking.”

Hudson takes a sip of his beer. “You definitely are.”

Trevor stretches, cracking his neck. “Yeah, yeah. Now let’s focus. Kane, you gonna keep glaring at the horizon or actually fish?”

I grunt and cast my line. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Hudson shakes his head. “Barely.”

Ian tugs his cap lower over his eyes. “So, are you actually going to tell us what’s going on with Grace, or are we supposed to just guess?”

I reel in slightly, letting the line drag. “There’s nothing to tell.”

Declan scoffs. “Bullshit.”

Hudson cracks open another beer. “Start talking, man. You’re here to fish, not mope.”

I exhale and stare out at the waves for a long moment before finally saying, “Her building burned down.”

That shuts them up.

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