Page 28 of Point Blank

“He’s not much of a sleeper,” Milo said, shrugging.

She let her breath hiss through her teeth. “What did he say?”

“He was appalled by what’s happened to Dani. He’ll be here around nine, so you can grill him then.” Milo stood and hooked his hands around her elbows. “Look, we need all the help we can get. Whatever differences you have with Brock, set them aside.”

She tapped her foot on the ground. It wasn’t about her differences with Brock. She’d never had anything against him. It was Dani’s differences with him she defended.

He was Dani’s ex-boyfriend and rival. But he was the best of the best at what he did, like Dani. This heist wasn’t about money. It wasn’t about being the one on top. All that mattered was getting Dani out alive. And if that meant recruiting Brock, so be it. She’d deal with Dani’s wrath later.

The thought made her cringe.

“All right.” She jabbed her finger against the wall of Milo’s chest. The muscle didn’t give. “He’d better not be late.”

Chapter

Seven

“You need to eat.” Milo thrust a plate piled high with scrambled eggs and toast across the island. She wrinkled her nose. Not because the food didn’t look good, but because her stomach clenched at the thought of anything being put in it.

“Thank you,” she said. Milo nodded at her plate, and she picked up the fork. The scent of buttery eggs and freshly cut oranges tickled her nostrils. “I’m sorry, it’s hard to do all these normal things when Dani—” The muscles in her throat constricted.

Milo took the seat next to her, his pile twice the size of hers. “I know. Let’s just talk and try to have a few bites, okay?”

She nodded and took a bite of the eggs. Despite everything happening with Dani, one question kept surfacing in her mind.

“What brought you back to San Diego?”

Milo swiped a pad of butter over his toast and lifted his shoulder. “Tasha’s partner wanted out of the business, so I came to help her.”

She lifted her eyebrows and took a sip of orange juice. “You’re working at the pub?”

“Kind of. I’m part owner now, so?—”

“Owner?”

“Yeah. It was a really shitty situation and there was no way she could buy out her partner and keep the bar.”

She lowered her fork. “You gave her the money?”

He pulled his shoulders back. “No. I invested in a good business.”

She gave him a skeptical look.

He sighed. “Yeah, I gave her the money. She didn’t ask, though. Tasha’s not like that.”

She didn’t know Tasha well, but when they were kids, she’d always been responsible, and so sweet. And Milo had always had a soft spot for his younger sibling.

“I don’t work the bar much. I’ve never been good with stuff like that. But sometimes I bounce on the weekends.” He chuckled. His laugh was low and brought up a deep memory that slipped away from her before she could grab and relish it. “Thankfully most customers are there to eat and watch sports. I’m too damn old to deal with millennials.”

“Watch it. You’re only three years older than me.”

His eyes bore into her. “You still look the same as you did ten years ago.”

She laughed and then quickly covered her mouth so he wouldn’t get an eyeful of chewed-up toast. “That’s almost an insult. I’ve dyed my hair, if you haven’t noticed.”

He lifted his hand, and his fingers tangled themselves into the strands of hair she’d let loose from the ponytail.

“I noticed.” His voice dropped an octave, and the words came out on a slow drawl. He moved his eyes from her hair to her face. “I also noticed a tattoo on your back.” His mouth lifted suggestively, and her insides tightened with need.