Blane glanced around the house with interest, taking in the bedding on the couch where Kade had slept before his gaze landed on me again.

“I’m glad to see you’re all right,” he said roughly, hooking his sunglasses on his shirt. “A phone call would’ve been nice.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized again. “I just thought . . . you and me . . . we needed some time.”

“How’re you feeling?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Okay.” It was super awkward to talk about being pregnant with Blane, so I moved on pretty quick. “How about you?”

His lips twitched. “I’m fine, but I’m not the one who’s having a baby.”

So much for not talking about it. “So, uh, how’d you find me?”

“I called him,” Kade said.

He had come downstairs, again without making a sound. I was really going to have to make him show me how he did that. Then I processed what he’d said.

“You called him?” I asked, facing off with Kade. I could feel my temper flaring.

“Don’t get upset,” he warned.

“Then don’t do things that make me upset,” I ground out.

“Thought you might want to know how Lewis was doing,” Blane interrupted.

I glanced around to him, confused. “Lewis? Alisha’s Lewis?” At his nod, I asked, “What’s wrong with him?”

“Kade shot him.”

I whipped my head back toward Kade, who was glaring at Blane. “What?” I screeched. “You shot him? What the hell for?”

“Really?” Kade said to Blane. “I tell you where she is and that’s the bomb you wanna drop? Asshole.”

“I’m not the asshole in this situation, and Lewis is fine, thanks for asking,” Blane said.

“I already knew he was fine,” Kade retorted in disgust. “I know where I shot him.”

“So you did shoot him?” I asked, interrupting their argument.

Kade’s gaze swiveled to mine. “Alisha wouldn’t tell me where you’d gone,” he said simply, as though that was justification enough for shooting Lewis.

“Oh my God,” I moaned, grasping the sides of my head. “Alisha’s going to hate me! And poor Lewis!” It’s not like being shot was any fun. Even if he was going to be all right, it wasn’t okay that Kade had done that.

“Alisha’s not going to hate you,” Kade said.

I jerked my head up and got in Kade’s space. “You’re right,” I said. “She’ll hate you!” I poked his chest hard to emphasize my point.

Kade’s eyes narrowed. “May I remind you of what would’ve happened this morning if I hadn’t been here?”

I swallowed, some of my anger leaching away.

“What happened this morning?” Blane broke in.

“Do you want to tell him about the body now buried in your backyard or shall I?” Kade asked.

“A body?”

I ignored Blane. “You didn’t have to threaten Alisha,” I argued. “I’m sure she would have said where I was if she knew I was in danger. You could’ve just told her that. You certainly didn’t have to shoot Lewis!”

“I’ll keep that in mind for the next time you disappear and someone has a contract out to kill you,” Kade sneered, not at all apologetic.

“Let’s talk about that,” Blane interrupted again. “Kade, what’s going on? Who’s after Kathleen? And what body’s in the backyard? And last but not least”—he held his arms out, palms up—“why am I here?”

“Yeah, I’ll let you two figure it out,” I groused. “I’ve got to get to work.”

“You’re not going to work,” Kade said.

“Watch me.” I grabbed my purse, stuffed my gun into it, and headed outside.

“Come on,” I heard Kade say to Blane, and I’ll be damned if I didn’t have both Blane and Kade following me in their separate cars into town.

I parked and got out, glancing around to see both Kade and Blane mirroring my actions. In a moment, they were trailing two or three steps behind me as I headed into the pub.

Yeah, this isn’t conspicuous or anything, I thought grumpily. So much for blending back into my hometown. Blane and Kade stuck out like they’d been dropped from another planet into Smalltown, Middle America—their planet being one filled with designer clothes, cars that cost six figures, and a surplus of incredibly hot men who accessorized with deadly weapons.

I went in back to clock in, grabbing a black apron to tie around my waist. The morning cook, Randy, was finishing up and he waved hello as I walked by. Danny would be in any minute. Carol was clocking in, too.

“Glad to see you survived your midnight visitor last night,” she said, falling into step with me as we headed out the kitchen door.

I sighed. “Survived, but didn’t ditch. He’s still here.” I nodded to where Blane and Kade now sat side by side at the bar. Sal, the other bartender, was just setting two bottles of beer in front of them.

“Wow,” Carol said. “Who’s the new guy?”

“My ex.” And I left it at that.

Carol looked at me, her eyebrows raised, but she didn’t ask anything further. Since she was someone who seemed to keep her business private, I appreciated that she didn’t want to pry into mine. I wouldn’t have known how to explain anyway.

I relieved Sal, a guy in his late fifties who poured drinks at the same speed he moved—turtle slow. He was fine during the early part of the day, but I was glad I didn’t have to work with him in the evenings. It would have driven me nuts.

There was barely a handful of customers, since it was still before the dinner rush, so it didn’t take me long to put the bar in order and make sure everything was set the way I liked it. When I was through, I walked over to Blane and Kade.

“So you two are just going to sit here all evening?” I asked.

“I’m not too thrilled with someone trying to kill you in your living room,” Blane replied.

“Then call your uncle and take care of it,” I retorted. “Hasn’t he done enough now? You know he was behind Summers taking me, that he tried to have Kade killed. I’m just trying to figure out why you’re sitting here instead of taking this right to his front door.”

“It’s not that easy,” Kade broke in.

“What would you have me do, Kat?” Blane asked. “Go kill my uncle?”

“So you’d rather he kill me?” I asked.

“No, of course not—” Blane replied angrily.

“Well, then you two better figure something out,” I interrupted, “because I’m not living this way, looking over my shoulder all the time and being afraid. Something’s gotta give.” I stalked away.

We got busier soon after that, and it was a while before I returned to Blane and Kade.

“You two want something to eat?” I asked, handing them each a menu. I waited while they looked it over. I couldn’t help it—even with what had happened this morning and the awkwardness of being with both of them, I was happier for their presence.

They both ordered the exact same thing, big surprise, and declined more beer. Instead, I gave Blane water and Kade a Coke.

“So did you come up with a plan?” I asked as I slid two plates of double cheeseburgers and waffle fries in front of them.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Kade asked.

“Hello—I’m working,” I said in an isn’t-it-obvious tone, resting my elbows on the bar, chin in hand, and eyeing his fries.

Kade must’ve read my mind, because he picked one up and offered it to me as he said to Blane, “Keaston’s gotten out of hand.”

I leaned forward and snagged the fry from his fingers with my teeth. Yum. Still hot and crispy.

“You said you’d found something linking him to Sheffield and the Waters trial,” Blane said, taking a bite of his cheeseburger. “What about that?”

Kade shook his head, chewing a fry before offering another to me. I let him feed me that one, too. “Won’t hold up,” he said. “A witness would be better. Someone who knows all Robert’s dirty little secrets.”

Blane chewed thoughtfully. “What about George?” he asked. “He’s his chief of staff. He’d know everything. Maybe he’d help us in return for something.”

Kade took a bite of cheeseburger, dutifully holding up another fry for me to eat. He swallowed, then said, “Yeah, George is dead.”