She dropped her head to his chest. “I’m worried,” she murmured and his heart stopped. Because this was probably where she told him what he could give her wasn’t enough for her and then she was going to dump him—

“We’re getting nowhere,” she said, “and I have less than a week left before I’ve got to authenticate those pieces or lose the penguin forever.”

He let out a breath of relief. She was giving him a stay, a reprieve. She wasn’t dumping him.

Yet.

“You’re not going to have to do that,” he promised. “We’ll find the penguin.”

“I want that to be true,” she said.

“It is true.”

Kylie nodded and held on to him for another minute. She was fierce, she was strong, she wasn’t easy, and she always had something to say. She had flaws and he loved that. But he thought maybe his favorite thing about her was that when she got knocked down, she got right back up again. Something he could relate to, not that he’d planned on relating to her at all.

Chapter 19

#ShakenNotStirred

Kylie waited as Joe pulled some things from his fridge. Then he took her by the hand and walked her outside and around to the other side of the duplex. Not ten minutes ago, she’d been naked on his floor with him, a big deal for her. Normally right about now she’d be running for the hills, needing some time alone to process and assimilate. And to distance herself.

So the fact that she was actually still here and preparing to meet Joe’s dad staggered her. “Won’t he think it’s odd that I’m with you at this time of night?” she asked.

“My dad doesn’t keep track of time unless I’m late or he needs something,” he said. And then he paused. “But there’s something you need to know about him. He’s . . . different.”

Kylie smiled. “And you’re not?”

“Smartass,” he said with an answering smile, but then he hesitated again. “Listen, if he says any weird stuff, just ignore it, okay? He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“What kind of weird stuff?”

“He’s not always 100 percent present,” he said. “He came home from the Gulf War with some injuries, not all of them physical.”

Her heart softened and she met his gaze. “And you and Molly take care of him.”

“Yeah. And he doesn’t like anyone else, ever, so don’t be insulted if he ignores you.” Joe knocked on the front door, four hard raps, then a pause, and then one more. “Dad?” he called out. “It’s me.” He unlocked three dead bolts and then knocked again in the same pattern as before as he opened the door. “Dad? You hear me?”

“Of course I do,” came an irritated male voice. “I’m not deaf.”

Joe didn’t step over the threshold. “And you’re also not armed, right?”

Kylie shot Joe a worried look. Armed?

Joe smiled reassuringly at her. “Don’t worry. He doesn’t have any bullets right now.”

Oh good. That made her feel all better.

“But he likes to hold his gun,” Joe warned her softly. “Just ignore that too.”

Kylie nodded, thinking she was doing a most excellent job of hiding her nerves until Joe squeezed her hand and smiled reassuringly.

“What’s taking you so damned long?” his dad yelled.

Joe stepped inside first, making sure Kylie was behind him. He took a quick look into the dark room and apparently saw something she couldn’t, because he sighed. “Dad, where are your pants?” He shifted, and then there was a click and a light came on.

The place was small and extremely neat, not a thing out of place. Well, except the man in the wheelchair in the doorway wearing only a wifebeater and boxer shorts.

Oh, and a rifle, which was lying across his knees.

In spite of his dark hair liberally streaked with gray and his equally dark eyes surrounded by a web of weathered wrinkles, Joe’s dad looked very much like Joe, and far younger than Kylie expected. The Gulf War had been nearly thirty years ago. She tried to do the math in her head, guessing that he had to be fiftyish.

“Pants are stupid,” he said.

“Yes,” Joe said. “And so is greeting visitors with a shotgun and no clothes and yet you do it. Put your gun away.”

Joe’s dad looked beyond Joe to Kylie. “Who’s that?”

Joe turned to Kylie. “This is—”

“Not you,” his dad said. “Her. I asked her.”

Kylie smiled at him. “My name’s Kylie Masters.”

“Huh,” he said. “I had a Masters in my platoon. Jeremy Masters. He was a class-A asshole. Is he your father?”

Joe shook his head. “Jesus, Dad—”

“No, it’s okay,” Kylie said to Joe, but kept looking at his dad. “My dad is a class-A asshole, Mr. Malone, but he wasn’t in the military. At least, I don’t think so.”

“You don’t know for sure? How come?”

“Because he walked away when I was young and hasn’t always kept in touch.”

Joe’s dad stared at her and then nodded. “You can stay.” He turned to Joe. “What’s for dinner?”

“Nothing unless you’re going to be nice.”

“I’m always nice.”

Joe snorted and passed him and went into the kitchen.

“Thinks he knows how to cook,” his dad said to Kylie.

“I do know how to cook!” Joe yelled from the kitchen.

Joe’s dad lifted his forefinger and thumb about an inch apart.

Joe stuck his head out of the kitchen. “How about you call for takeout if my food sucks so bad?”

“And he’s as sensitive as a girl,” his dad said.

“Boys are just as sensitive as girls,” Kylie said. “Maybe more so. So probably you meant to say he’s as sensitive as a boy.”

Joe’s dad paused and then tipped his head back and laughed out loud. “Son, you went and did it now,” he yelled. “This one’s going to give you a run for your money.”

Joe didn’t respond to this, but Kylie could hear him banging stuff around in the kitchen. She told herself it didn’t matter that he didn’t agree with his dad about her giving him a run for his money. Because what they did agree on was that this was merely a friendship and a working relationship with a bit of holy-cow sex on the side. Which was fine. Because maybe there were some feelings developing for him deep down, but since she had no idea what those feelings were exactly, or what to do with them, it didn’t matter.

But she couldn’t deny that a small part of her would’ve filled with warm fuzzies if Joe had agreed with his dad about her at all instead of radio silence.

His dad rolled himself past Kylie and checked all the front door locks. He checked each of them exactly four times, paused, and then checked them a fifth time.

The same pattern Joe had used to come inside.

Kylie watched this with a sudden lump in her throat, understanding now exactly how much Joe cared about his family. And—whether he realized it or not—just how big a capacity he had to love.

Joe’s dad finished at the front door and grunted in satisfaction before wheeling to the windows, checking each of those four times as well. And then a fifth. There was one window that was too high for him in his chair so Kylie crossed to it herself and checked the lock. She did it four times. Then paused and checked it a fifth time.