Page 93 of Smoke Screen
Coward. He’d turned the woman’s life upside down and didn’t have the balls to look her in the eye.
“Phin!” a female voice broke through.
Not another one.
Phin angled back, spotted his extremely pregnant cousin Micki and her fiancé Gage Barber working through the crowd. Only Micki, a badass hacker currently teaching cyber warfare classes at her brother Reid’s law enforcement training center and—rumor had it—moonlighting for the CIA, could find a black maternity shirt emblazoned with a white skull.
Micki and Gage darted, as much as an eight-months-pregnant woman could, between a group of teenagers pushing and shoving, one of them plowing right into Micki.
“Hey,” Gage said, his voice dangerously low. “Lady with a baby, here. Knock it off before I bust some heads.”
Phin leaned down, got close to Maddy’s ear. “This is my cousin Micki and her fiancé.”
He stood tall again, plastering a smile on his face.
Normally, he enjoyed seeing Micki. She’d left town right after high school, moving to Vegas and working for some shady fixer. For years, she’d been the black sheep of the Steele family. A gossip-fueling enigma, like the Blackwells, and he considered her a kindred spirit.
Mickiunderstood him. All of his brothers, really. They’d never discussed it, but she knew the weight of being the bad egg.
She marched straight for him, a smile lighting her face. Jesus, the last thing he needed was her and Gage, a freaking former Green Beret with a monster hero complex, in the middle of this.
Between Mrs. Royce and Gage, a public meeting was an epic fail. Fail or not, it was his mess to get out of.
He’d like to step away from Neck Tattoo, but he wasn’t about to leave Maddy with him. But, if he suddenly grabbed Maddy’s hand and dragged her with him to meet Micki, he’d be introducing a woman to a family member, which, in this town?
Major news.
If he wasn’t careful, by dinner, the rumor mill would have him engaged.
To Maddy.
And why wasn’tthatan altogether horrible thought?
He shook off thoughts of Maddy in a skin-tight wedding dress that showed off her curves and held his arms wide for his cousin. “Hey, you,” he said, carefully wrapping her in a hug.
He held on for a second, giving her a gentle squeeze and putting his mouth next to her ear. “I’m in the middle of something, here. Can I call you later?”
She returned the hug and stepped back, nodding.
Phin turned to Gage, held his hand out. “Good to see you.”
Shoulders brutally pinned back—military habits, hard to break—he grasped Phin’s hand, gave it a solid pump. “You too.”
“Oh.” Micki set her hand on her belly.
Gage whipped his head around. “What? You okay?”
“Gotta pee! Right now. Stupid bladder. Phin, I’ll call you later.”
Good old, Micki.
She took off through the crowd, Gage hauling ass after her, and Phin met Maddy’s gaze. Dodged a bullet there.
With them gone, Phin brought his attention back to Neck Tattoo. “Too many people here. Let’s step away from the crowd.”
Phin jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward La Belle Style, the boutique owned by his cousin Reid’s wife. “Let’s walk to the side street. We’ll talk there.”
Phin grasped Maddy’s hand, leading her past La Belle Style to the police barricades at the end of the block. They hooked a left. Bumper-to-bumper parked cars lined both sides. Phin crossed the street, moving to the sidewalk and stopping halfway down at the rear of a black Camaro with rims that cost more than three of Phin’s best suits.
