“It’s a start. We’ll figure something out. I have a friend who’s a private investigator that I’ll talk to first thing in the morning. Okay?” The little furrow between her brows eased and she nodded. He finished his first sandwich and wiped his mouth. No way he could fix this tonight, but maybe he could take her mind off the situation. “So, what else is on that top five list?” he asked, latching onto her earlier comment.
She nibbled at a piece of her bun. “What do you mean?”
“Of comfort foods.”
“Oh. Let’s see.” She picked up her sandwich again. “Sloppy joes, of course. And, hmm, lasagna, chicken pot pie. Uh, macaroni and cheese. And maybe pot roast. Or meat loaf and mashed potatoes. Aw, or red beans and rice.”
“That’s seven,” he said, enjoying her enthusiasm, not to mention the way talking to her pulled him out of the darkness of his own head. “And no chili and corn bread is a huge oversight.”
“Hmm . . . chili’s a good one. As you can see, I’m not picky.” And he damn well liked that. She finished the rest of her sandwich and reached for another bun, then stretched to scoop more sloppy joe from the pan. After she got it all fixed the way she wanted it, she lifted it to her mouth and glanced at him. “What?”
Rixey shook his head and hoped the distraction had worked. Even if only a little. “Nothing. Eat up.”
They’d just finished their seconds and carried their dirties to the sink when Jeremy walked in. “Dude. You made sloppy joes and didn’t tell me? You better’ve saved me some.” He stepped up to the stove and peered into the pan. “Aw, yeah.”
Becca chuckled.
Jeremy’s gaze cut to her and froze, then he looked at Rixey. Shit, Nick recognized that glint in his brother’s eyes. Jer was about to be a pain in the ass. Since Nick had returned to the real world, he hadn’t once brought a woman here, let alone cooked for her. No doubt his dipshit brother was reading all kinds of significance into that.
“So, Becca, did you enjoy the sloppy joes Nick made for you?”
“Yeah,” she said, leaning against the counter. “They were great.” She didn’t seem to hear the innuendo dripping from the guy’s words.
But Rixey did. And he knew his smart-ass brother enough to know he was like a dog with a bone. Wouldn’t stop until they were squirming. Which would undo the relaxed rapport he’d finally managed to achieve with Becca. “Jeremy,” he said, lacing the syllables with a warning his brother sure as hell would recognize.
Grinning, Jeremy started in. “Wow, that was really nice of Nick to—”
Rixey swiped the pan out from under Jeremy’s nose and crossed to the trash can. His foot depressed the pedal and the metal lid flipped up.
“Hey!” Jeremy whirled, following Nick’s quick movements.
Nick tilted the skillet at a forty-five-degree angle and paused, ready to scoop the leftovers into the trash. “You were saying?”
Jeremy gasped and threw his hands out. “What the hell are you doing, man? You can’t . . . that’s sloppy joe!” Mouth agape, eyes wide, his expression was almost comical.
Becca glanced between them, a confused smile on her face.
Nick winked at her, then arched a brow at Jeremy. Boy damn well knew what this was for.
Jer rolled his eyes. “All right, all right. Just”—he gestured to the stove—“step away from the trash. Slowly.”
Settling the pan back on the burner, Nick glared, then finally let go of the handle. Jeremy pulled it close and shielded it with his body like it was his firstborn child. Rixey snickered.
“If I hadn’t known you two were brothers before this moment, I would know now.” Becca grinned.
Building his sandwich, Jeremy glared out from under his long hair. “Why? Because he’s such an asshole?”
She laughed, but then her smile turned sad. “No, because just then you reminded me of my brothers.”
“You have more than one?” Rixey asked, not remembering Frank ever mentioning a third kid. Rixey had known her father for five years, though Frank had never been the most verbose when it came to his personal life. Wasn’t unusual. A lot of guys compartmentalized their real-world lives while they were in the field. Thinking about everything and everyone you were missing back home was exactly the kind of distraction that got you injured or killed.
“I did. My older brother, Scott, died eight years ago this summer. He was twenty-one. Heroin overdose.” She blinked up at him. “Anyway, Scott and Charlie were in a perpetual competition to annoy one another. I just tried to keep out of the way.” She lifted one shoulder in a small shrug, a faraway look in her eyes.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Becca.” Damn if the sadness in her voice didn’t cut right into him.
“Thanks,” she said.
Jeremy slid around to the bar and pushed onto a stool. He bit into his sloppy joe with a loud moan. When Becca chuckled, Rixey found himself glad his brother was there. Losing his parents had been horrific enough. He sure as hell couldn’t imagine losing his kid brother.
Pain in the ass or not, Jeremy was a good guy through and through. Would do anything for a person, and often did. Which meant Nick had been remiss in not explaining Becca’s presence. “So, Jer, I should’ve mentioned it earlier, but Becca’s here because someone broke into her house today.”
Jeremy’s gaze cut to hers, his eyes scanning over her face and landing on the scratch. He frowned. “Shit, seriously? I’m sorry. That sucks. Does this have something to do with your brother?”
Becca sank onto the stool next to him, as if Jeremy’s outrage on her behalf put her at ease. And it probably did. Jer had that way about him. “I don’t know. But we’re going to find out.” Her blue eyes cut to Nick, filled with equal parts determination and question.
Rixey nodded. He’d do everything he could to keep the darkness from closing in over her.
Her expression brightened, and some of the stress seemed to bleed out of her shoulders. She cast a sideways glance at Jeremy. “Can I have a bite?” He jerked his sandwich to the side, away from her, and she gave a soft laugh. “Just kidding.”
He mock-scowled at her, then smiled when she bumped her shoulder into his.
“So, you like sloppy joes, bacon, and walking around naked. What else do I need to know about you?” Becca asked.
Jeremy frowned. “Bacon?”
She pointed. “Your shirt.”
He looked down at himself and chuckled. “Oooh. Right.” Damn boy and his funny-ass T-shirts. This one read, “This Guy Loves BACON” with two hands pointing their thumbs back at himself. After that, they fell into an easy conversation.
As Rixey watched the two of them together, resolve threaded through his very bones. Becca had lost one brother to tragedy. No one should have to go through that once, let alone twice—even if she was related to the man who’d ruined so much for him. But she wasn’t responsible for the sins of her old man. So he was going to do everything he could to make sure it didn’t happen again.
Chapter 7
Becca couldn’t sleep. Despite being more exhausted than she’d maybe ever been in her life, she’d tossed and turned for hours. She couldn’t get her mind to stop racing from one question to the next. Where is Charlie? Is he okay? Could he have run, or was he taken? Who ransacked his apartment? Who broke into my house? How are we going to figure all this out?
We. As in, her and Nick.
God, the man kept her on edge. One minute polite and helpful, the next cold and moody. As if her head wasn’t spinning enough from the mystery of Charlie’s disappearance.
Sighing, she turned on her side. She’d wanted Nick’s help—no, more than that, she needed it. Still, she couldn’t help but feel like she was getting in way over her head.