Shiori cocked her head. “His usual snarl does look much less pronounced. So I’m curious. Where did you nail her? I’m betting the locker room. What say you, Knox?”

“Nah. Too many kids running around. I’m betting—”

“It’s not up for discussion. Ever. So fucking drop it.”

“Hell no. What goes around comes around, my friend.”

“What did you say to me the time you caught Knox and me sneaking out of the Crow’s Nest?” Shiori asked.

“He said you had that high-pro glow,” Knox answered. “Who’s the dog now?”

Shi-Shi howled and Knox laughed.

Everyone was a fucking comedian. “I was a dick, okay?”

“Was a dick? You’re still a dick, Yondan. Even when you’re smitten and acting all embarrassed about it, we owe you massive amounts of payback.”

“Look, I had a shit day and she made it better by just walking in the damn building. The rest between her and me is just a bonus. A private bonus.”

“Damn. He does have it bad,” Shiori said to Knox.

“Told ya.”

“Bring her over for dinner one night next week. Knox will cook. We’ll play charades. We’ll show you vacation photos from our week in Japan.”

“So it’d be like a couples’ dinner-party thing?” he said with mock horror.

“Yes.”

He grinned. “Cool. Sounds fun.”

Shiori tried to get in his face. But at five feet nothing it was a stretch for her. “Knox, get Riggins. I think Deacon sustained a serious blow to the head today.”

“Ha-ha, Shi-Shi. This is me bein’ all mature and in a relationship and shit.” He kissed her forehead. “Get used to it.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

MOLLY doubted Deacon liked surprises.

But here she was, dressed to the nines, cursing Tag Westerman and his southern charm, because she was about to horn in on a family dinner.

When Deacon’s cousin called to ask if the lawyer he’d recommended in Nebraska was working out, she’d thanked him because the house and land sale had turned into a big mess. Having a lawyer looking out for her interests had saved her sanity.

After some small talk, Tag casually mentioned being in Denver and then he’d invited her to dinner as a surprise for Deacon.

For some bizarre reason, she’d justified saying yes by reminding herself that Deacon had shown up in Nebraska without warning. And he’d handled her relatives just fine. Since she knew Tag was the one cousin Deacon got along with . . . well, how bad could it be?

She approached the hostess stand inside Ocean Prime. “I’m meeting the Westerman party.”

The hostess typed on her computer. Then she frowned. “Could it be under another name?”

“Look under Bishop,” a deep male voice drawled behind her.

Molly turned.

The tall, slender man offered his hand and a smile. “Molly? I’m Tag Westerman.”

Tag had dark blond hair and pale green eyes. He’d dressed casually in a button-down shirt the color of celery, khaki slacks, and a pair of tan cowboy boots. Once her gaze returned to his handsome, almost pretty face, she returned his smile. “Yes, I’m Molly.”

“I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but, darlin’, you’re lovely.”

“Thank you. I hope you don’t mind me saying that I don’t think you have a reservation here. Did you maybe make it at Oceanlandia instead? Easy to get the two places mixed up.”

“Ah, here it is,” the hostess said triumphantly. “Under the name Bishop.”

Confused, Molly asked, “Bishop is a family name?”

“No. It’s a joke. A bishop outranks a deacon in the religious hierarchy, and since I’m older than him . . .” He grinned. “I’ll admit I sometimes use Cardinal and Pope just to keep my cousin on his toes.”

The hostess said, “If you’ll follow me.”

They headed up a staircase and down a hallway. Then a tuxedoed waiter opened the door to a private room.

Molly was so busy checking out the ambience of the space—glass windows, candlelight, sheer curtains—that she didn’t notice the man sitting in the corner at first.

“Punctual as usual, Mr. Bishop,” Deacon drawled.

“Thought I’d beat you here, Deacon,” Tag returned in an equally thick drawl.

Deacon stood and crossed over to Molly.

“Your cousin called and asked me to come. If it’s not okay, I can go.”

“Stay.” He curled his hands around her face and planted a very possessive kiss on her. “Looks like someone blew off class tonight.”