Page 31 of Things We Hide from the Light
Usually I was good under pressure. No. Not just good. I wasgreatunder pressure. I was patient and smart and cunning when necessary. But Nash giving me that hard, authoritarian look like he wanted to drag me into an interview room and yell at me for an hour was definitely screwing with my balance.
“I’m guessing not as well as you and I know each other,” Nolan said to me with a wink.
“Seriously?” I demanded. “Get over it.”
“Angel and I are close,” Nash drawled without looking away from me.
Angel?Iwas the Angel from Nash’s shower fantasy? My brain launched into a graphic replay of my nocturnal eavesdropping. I shook myself mentally and decided to deal with that information later.
“We share a wall,” I said, not sure why I felt the need to explain. My past with Nolan was none of Nash’s business. My present with Nash was none of Nolan’s.
“Shared a bath too yesterday,” Nash said.
My jaw dropped, and a sound like an accordion getting crushed wheezed out of me.
Both men looked at me. I shut my mouth with a hard snap.
I was going to knee Nolan in the balls and push Nash down the stairs, I decided.
“She always was a sucker for law enforcement,” Nolan said, rocking back on his heels and looking like he was enjoying this.
I was fuming, but before I could let the two testosterone-addled idiots have it, the library door opened. Nash moved to hold it.
“Ma’am,” he said to Cherry Poppa as she exited.
“Charmer,” she cooed.
Nolan bowed.
“It’s certainly yummy out here,” the drag queen observed as she headed for the door.
“Well, this has beenfun,” I snarled at the idiots clogging the hallway before following the beautiful drag queen outside.
“You know what no one tells you about standing in the middle of a pissing contest?” Cherry said to me with a toss of her blond curls.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“You’re the one who ends up smelling like pee.”
SEVEN
WE WEREN’T DRY HUMPING
Lina
Iwas still reasonably ragey by the time I got in my car and headed to Knox and Naomi’s house for dinner. Sure. What woman hadn’t had the stray fantasy about two men fighting over her? But it wasn’t nearly as sexy when the fight was actually a jurisdictional pissing match and I was just a pawn.
A little action on the gas pedal had my beefy Charger roaring to life on the open stretch of road. I loved big engines and fast cars. There was something about the open road and the rumble of a V8 that made me feel free.
I eased back to my customary nine miles over the speed limit. Just enough for a little fun but too much hassle for a cop to pull me over.
Angry, kick-ass lady music blasted from the sound system, and wind whipped through my hair.
All too soon, I slowed to make the turn onto the gravel lane that wound through the woods. Part of me was tempted to just keep going. To drive fast and sing loud until all the frustrations that had been building flew right out the window.
But as mad as I was, a cross-country road trip probably wouldn’t be enough to clear my head.
So I did the annoying, responsible thing and made the turn.
