“I guess I’d better enjoy it while it lasts,” I said with a grin, not willing to let the little guy go at the moment.

Jake jumped into the driver’s seat and we sped off toward my apartment. When we got to my building, I climbed the stairs reluctantly, and my hand trembled a little as I unlocked the apartment door, ignoring the caution tape run across it.

Jake waited outside with the dog while I tiptoed around the scene. I wouldn’t admit it to him, but I wanted to be in there as little as possible. I felt so violated and vulnerable; whoever had done this had rifled through everything I owned. And if it was Cameron, how could I defend him effectively now? Between my fear and my anger, I couldn’t possibly give him the best defense.

I stuffed some clothes and toiletries in another duffel bag, grabbed my chargers, Maverick’s food and bowls, the crate, and a sleeve of cookies, then locked up behind me. As I ran down the front steps, Jake threw open the Hummer’s passenger door as if he sensed my urgency to get the heck out of there.

The truck was quiet as we set off for another side of town. Highland Park once was the “in” neighborhood with its tree-lined streets and gorgeous parks. For a while it suffered a small decline, but now it was hot again. Large maples surrounded mansions, row houses, and smaller freestanding brick houses—all which Pittsburgh was known for. Kids played out on the sidewalks, and young couples enjoyed their Sunday, walking their dogs to the independent coffee shop in the center of the neighborhood.

When we pulled up in front of a dark red brownstone, Jake announced, “Here we are,” and threw the truck into PARK.

I turned slightly in my seat to face him. “Are we going to discuss anything?”

“If you’re asking if I raided your apartment, the answer is no. Because that’s fucking ludicrous. I was with you the whole time, remember?”

“That’s not what I was asking.” I reached over the center console and ran my fingers over his muscular forearm.

“If you mean rent, I won’t accept anything more than what you were paying for the shithole in Oakland.”

“That’s not what I meant either, although I plan to pay you rent. What I meant was . . . this is going so fast, and now I’m dragging you into all my work stuff and this break-in. Geez, I must look so needy.”

“Just stop. Come on, we’re going in.” He set his free hand on top of mine and squeezed it. “Let’s go.”

He threw open his door and hopped out to come help me, then he snatched the pup.

“The unit on the right needs a little more work,” he explained, “so let’s get you set up in the left. Everything’s been inspected and is working right. My guys may need to do a little work while you’re here, but they’ll be neat.”

The left side of the brownstone had obviously been maintained. The door opened to an exposed brick entry. To the left when we walked in was a living area with a huge stained-glass window looking out onto the yard at the side of the house. In the back was a fairly updated kitchen, but with those old-fashioned knobs on the sink, the white porcelain ones I’d always loved that read HOT and COLD. A staircase led upstairs.

While I explored my new digs, Jake propped open the back door and let Maverick run out and squat. Overwhelmed, I spun in a circle, taking it all in, and realized the place was full of furniture.

“Um, Jake. Why is there so much furniture here?”

He shrugged. “I bought it to go with the unit. I was going to rent it furnished, so now it’s yours.”

I stopped dead in my tracks and leaned on the banister, newly sanded and painted. “Jake? I can’t.”

“You can. Come on, I’ll show you upstairs and then you can get settled.”

Since Maverick still hadn’t gotten the hang of stairs yet, Jake picked him up and carried him with us. Once on the second floor, he tied the leash to his belt loop again, and Maverick bounced around his feet, excited to explore the two bedrooms and bathroom upstairs. The master bedroom was dominated by a king-sized sleigh bed.

Frowning, I turned to Jake. “Seriously, I can’t accept this.”

“You can. Gotta have room to sleep with those long legs.”

My vision blurred and I blinked furiously, but the tears made it hard to see.

“I have to go,” Jake said quickly, as if sensing I needed time to compose myself. “I need to get out to the suburbs and check on a few things in my other location, and then swing by the construction site on the other side of town before the week starts. Can I bring dinner later?”

“Why don’t I go to the store and cook?”

“Another time.” He leaned in and pressed a soft closed-mouth kiss to my lips, then handed me the puppy’s leash and walked away.

“Wait, Jake!” I called out, and he stopped in the doorway. “Thank you.”

He gave me a big smile. “I’m going to run in your bags and the dog crate, and leave the keys on the hall table. Make yourself at home.”

Unfamiliar emotions swirled inside me as I listened to Jake run down the staircase, his heavy boots thudding on the hardwood stairs. In other circumstances, they might seem threatening, but not now, not with Jake.

Funny how we met and where we ended up—so far.

Jake

“Lane, I need a favor,” I yelled into my dash Bluetooth.

“What’s up?”

“I hate asking. I’m trying to do shit on my own, but I’m seeing that girl—woman—the one I told you about. Someone broke into her place and tore the shit out of it, and now she’s living in my rental like I wanted, but—”

“Say no more,” Lane said, cutting in. “I got a guy to look after her.”

“Look, I don’t want you fixing this, bro. I just want the intro. I’m paying for it and dealing with him, but you’re right. She needs eyes on her.”

“I have a guy whose team keeps an eye on AJ, makes sure he keeps his distance from Bess. They’re good. Not cheap, but worth it.”

“Text me their number. Let them know I’ll be calling.”

“Okay. And Jason?”

I huffed out an exasperated sigh. “You must be about to get all serious. No one has called me Jason since Mom died.”

“You deserve to be happy, Jason. Jake. It doesn’t matter what I call you; you’re my brother.”

“Text me the number, Lane. Leave all the mush to Bess.”

I hurried to the South Hills to Fizzle Squared, checked in with the manager on a few issues, then headed over to Cubed, north of the city. Pleased with the progress Jax and his team had made, I sped back to Oakland and ran on the treadmill for a half hour. I needed to blow off some aggression.

As my feet pounded the belt, sweat poured down my back, soaking my tank, and music pounded in my ears. Heavy, dark lyrics rained into my brain, which probably wasn’t smart. I was wound up, more than tense. I should probably be listening to Enya or some New Age junk. At the moment, I was so keyed up, the only thing keeping me calm was the call I’d made to the private investigator. He was going to put someone right on it. They’d keep an eye on my rental, tail Aly, and keep a lookout.

When the thirty minutes were up, I hopped off, even though I could have stayed on for hours. After quickly showering and changing, I called the pizza shop I liked to splurge on and ordered a large pie. On my way to pick it up, I stopped for a bottle of wine. I was about to head straight to the rental at that point, but then realized there were no wineglasses or plates there, so I stopped to pick up some of those too.

Finally at the door, I debated letting myself in, but then decided against it. This was Aly’s place now. I knocked once, twice, before I rang the bell.

“Who’s there?” she called.

“Me with food.”

I sounded like an idiot. I didn’t know how to do this. Up until a few months ago, I was a fuck-and-run kind of guy. Now I was rescuing girls, hiring private detectives, baring my soul, and picking up pizza for dinner.