Chapter Seventeen

Lindsey

Brody's jaw dropped. " You took it?"

The dog bounced into my lap again. I managed to at least hold Max in a position he couldn't lick my face. His happy panting doggy breath still washed across me, but I couldn't condemn him for it. This was a seriously friendly dog.

"I'm sorry, man," Avery went on, his expression miserable. "I did try to find you, to give it back, but you were gone. After a few years, I gave it to some thrift store. Seeing your face again brought all the memories flooding in."

"Holy shit." Brody instantly glanced at the kid, then grimaced. "Sorry. Look, that's why I'm here. Maybe we shouldn't talk in front of him."

Avery eyed Declan. "Hey, son, take Max to your room, okay?"

"Kay."

Declan rose from the carpet and trod across it to Max. Grabbing the dog's collar, he pulled the mutt with him. Max went with him agreeably enough, obviously used to having a five-year-old haul him around. They vanished up the stairs to the second floor. I heard a door swing closed.

"So what's up?" Avery asked, glancing between us.

Brody drew in a breath. "Do you remember Austin Rivers?"

"How can I forget?" Avery rolled his eyes. "He and that prick, er, sorry, Lindsey, Greg Harrison were always looking for trouble. What's up with him?"

"He's a dope dealer now," Brody said slowly. "Some dude who looks like me and wearing my old jacket stole millions of dollars of fentanyl from him."

Avery's eyes widened in shock, and I knew then he had nothing to do with the dope or Rivers. "No fucking way."

"I'm afraid so, man. He thinks it was me." Brody shook his head. "Claims I stole it, then sold it. He's attacked me, my home." He gestured toward his braced knee. "This happened when he threatened to kill both Lindsey and me. We fought."

"Because I stole your jacket."

Avery averted his head, his jaw clenched. I forced myself to reassess my earlier estimation of his looks. He was an exceptionally good looking man. Heavy broad shoulders, a square cut jaw, well-sculpted biceps. His blue eyes could loosen any girl's thighs, I suspected.

"I'm so sorry, man," he said at last. "I grabbed it on impulse. I sure as shit had my own jacket. Later, I wanted to give it back."

"Until Rivers popped up," Brody said with a grin, "I haven't thought about it in years."

"You had the brains, especially for the sciences," Avery commented. "I knew better than to cheat, and you didn't leave your notes behind. I passed the chemistry finals by the skin of my teeth."

"Had you asked," Brody added, "I'd have helped you."

"I know, man. Back then, I was dumber than a brick without much impulse control. I acted without thinking things through. I hope I've become a better man for it."

"I'm sure you have."

"So what are you doing about Rivers?"

Brody shrugged. "The best we can. The cops are involved, looking for him. Lindsey is an ace with a gun. If he comes around, he may not live long enough to regret it."

Avery sent me an admiring grin. "Brody, my man, you're one lucky dog."

***

"Finding our fentanyl thief is going to be impossible," I commented as I drove us back to my house. "Your jacket probably passed through several hands since Avery grabbed it."

"I know." Brody sighed. "But at least I know what happened. And why."

"Avery seems like a decent dude."

"I'm glad to see he is."

"His kid's as cute as a bug's ear."

I sent Brody a glance, who sent me a wicked grin in return.

"Time to start making babies?" he asked, his tone sly.

Feigning outrage, I snapped, "Hardly. I'm sooo not in love with you."

"But you're getting close, yes?"

"Shut up."

I refused to say anything more on the subject, despite Brody's teasing me the rest of the way home. That he was absolutely correct didn't help matters at all. I'm not ready for a romantic relationship. Am I? That I was indeed falling in love, very quickly in fact, with him had me wondering about this fated mate bullshit he kept on about.

Could there be something to what he believed? That outside of time and space, we are destined to find one another and be together, dragon mates, for all our lives? Raise dragon kids, teach them to fly and breathe fire? Could it be possible?

Brody sat heavily on my sofa. After carefully setting his foot on the pillow, he beckoned me. "C'mere."

"Why?" I crossed my arms over my chest.

"I want you to."

"We don't always get what we want."

He laughed. "Go figure."

Deciding against teasing him any further, I sat beside him, letting him pull me against his chest. I ran my fingers over his hard, flat stomach, thinking again of flying rug rats. "Did your folks teach you about being a dragon?"

"Sure. I got mad once – I think I was maybe three – and set the living room carpet on fire. Shit, were they pissed . Anyway, I was forbidden to shift unless given permission, and a stern lecture on proper dragon behavior."

"And controlling your temper?"

"Yep. And being respectful of property, and definitely how to prevent humans from knowing what I am. What we are. Flying and flaming under certain circumstances only, no sharing secrets with my school chums, that sort of thing."

"Was it hard for you as a kid? Carrying all that secrecy around?"

"Not really." Brody stroked my cheek. "Are you thinking of our kids?"

I lightly slapped his belly. "Not so fast, buster. I'm not sure about this fated mate shit. Or that I'll want kids with you."

"You'll come to believe it, babe. That I promise."

"Hmm. That's a stretch in believing that events with Austin and Bethany are pushing us together."

"Not a stretch at all," he replied. "Funny how you just move in and Austin lands on us with both feet, then your ex sis-in-law finds you. Too much to be a mere coincidence."

"I see your point," I said slowly. "I wouldn't fall for such a belief if I didn't find out what I was."

"And that I'm a dragon, too? Again, this is fate. Not a coincidence."

***

"I want to fly again," I commented as I drove Brody to a local dealership the following morning. "Tonight, maybe?"

Brody plucked my hand from the console to kiss it. "I have a great location. Away from the city, not many farms or houses around. We can fly as much as we want to."

An almost sexual excitement sent a thrill through my nerve endings. "Do other dragons go there to fly?"

"Not that I've seen," he replied. "But we all need to stretch our wings, get away from the droll lives as ordinary folks. Answer the call of the wind and stars."

"How do we meet other dragons?" I asked, glancing sidelong at him. "Can we?"

"Well, we can," he said slowly. "I have a few friends who are dragons. Two are currently in Greece with their cats. I'd love for you to meet them."

"I'd like that."

While Brody walked the lot with a salesman, talking, looking at various trucks, I took a moment to update Detective Skinner. He answered the phone with a chuckle.

"I hope you're not calling to say you've got a corpse in your living room."

"In the kitchen," I replied, smiling.

"No way."

"No, just stringing you along, dude. I'm calling to tell you the letterman's jacket is a dead end."

"How so?"

"The kid who originally stole it from Brody owned up to it. Apologized. Tossed it to a thrift store a long time ago."

I heard Skinner writing notes. "Can I get his name and address? Just to get an affidavit from him. Dot all my Ts and cross all my Is."

"Name's Avery Armstrong," I said, then gave his address. "Watch his mutt. The thing will seriously lick all the skin from your face."

"I like dogs. They're generally good judges of character. I trust you're behaving yourself?"

I sighed. "Jeez, man, you sound like my mother. Brody is buying a truck while I'm courteously giving you an update."

"I love you when you're courteous, Lindsey. And thank you for the heads up. You're making my job so much easier."

"We want Rivers arrested as much as you do."

"We're looking for him, girl. And we'll get him."

You'd better, Skinner, before we do. He may not live too long if we catch him first.

Brody wended his way amid the rows of trucks to me. "We have an hour or so to kill," he said. "They're going to put new tires on the one I'm taking. Should we get some lunch?"

"Only if you're buying."

"I am."

In the rental Ford, I drove us down a busy thoroughfare toward a restaurant Brody suggested. On the way, he told me about the Ram truck he planned to buy.

"A sweet ride, I'm telling you," he said, excited. "All the bells and whistles, at the perfect price. I'm getting a sweetheart of a deal."

"I hope you can trust what they're telling you.'

"There you go with the trust issues."

I scowled. "You can trust a car dealer? Since when?"

"These guys have a good rep. It's why I chose them."

I glanced in the mirrors, checking the traffic. "I hope you're right."

"Other people swear by their honesty."

"Okay."

An older model pickup changed lanes, passing other vehicles while speeding up. I eyed it in my left hand mirror, expecting it to pass. It surged forward, giving me a better view of its front end. Its grill had been smashed in, its right headlight gone. A chill raced down my spine.

"Heads up," I said, my tone grim. "We may have trouble."

Brody turned in his seat. "Shit. Silver Ford truck. I think we found our hit and run driver."

The Ford sped up, coming abreast of us. The driver turned her head to the right, staring straight at us. At me.

Then Bethany lifted the gun.