Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Deke shrugged. “No clue.”
“The profile was created a little over three months ago,” Tate went on. “What was going on in your life back then?”
Deke pursed his lips. “Not much.”
“You had a ding-dong with Gerard at the Tavern,” Bailey recalled.
Havana’s gaze sharpened. “Oh yeah. It was about Dayna, right?”
“Pretty much,” replied Deke. “He overheard Cassandra offering to help me with the touch-hunger, and he made some crack about how only an asshole would hold Dayna to a promise while he’s sleeping with other women. I asked if he cared to repeat himself. But you know Gerard—he tosses out sly remarks and then immediately pulls in on himself and acts as if he said jack.”
Tate nodded. “So you let it slide.”
“Yeah. But then he accidentally-on-purpose knocked over my bottle of beer as he was placing it on the bar. He stuttered and stammered and apologized, but I wasn’t buying his act. I told him I’d rip him a new one if he pulled a stunt like that again, and that was it.”
“Am I right in guessing he’s got a thing for Dayna?” asked Bailey.
“She was with Gerard before moving onto Deke,” Tate told her. “Some think that Gerard never quite got over her, though he swears they’re better off as friends.” He paused. “Anything else happen back then, Deke?”
Scratching at his suddenly itchy nape, Deke replied, “I briefly argued with Sam, but it was just a misunderstanding. Nothing for him to retaliate over.”
“What sort of misunderstanding?” asked Tate.
“You know he has a thing for Cassandra, right? He saw me having lunch with her at the deli one time. He thought it was a date. It wasn’t. I’d headed there alone, and she’d joined me when she’d spotted me there. He turned up at my apartment later that day and confronted me, accusing me of leading her on.” Sam might be a healer, but he was no softie. Even though he wasn’t a dominant shifter, he didn’t hold back if he had something to say—especially in the defense of others.
Bailey frowned. “Leading her on? So, what, she’d totally hop on the Deke train if it wasn’t for Dayna?”
He stared down at her, feeling his brow crease. “The Deke train?”
“It whistles and chugs and everything,” said the mamba.
Tate’s mouth quirked. “I wouldn’t say Cassandra’s into Deke, but she has a soft spot for him. I can see why Sam would have viewed him as a threat.” He sliced his gaze to Deke. “Did he warn you away from her?”
“Not in so many words,” replied Deke. “He said if I had any decency in me and I respected her at all, I wouldn’t play with her feelings. I explained that he’d mistaken what he’d seen. He accused me of lying at first. Hence why it turned into an argument.” And why his cat was growling at the memory—the feline never appreciated having his integrity questioned. “But I eventually got through to him, and then he turned all sheepish and apologetic.”
Tate’s thoughtful hum came out low. “You’re right, that’s not something he’d retaliate over. There’s no need to.”
Havana pulled in a long breath. “Well, at least the whole catfish thing is over. The profile is down. The email account is deactivated. Maisy knows the score. We can keep looking into who might have created the profile—”
“But we might never find out,” Deke finished. Noticing that Bailey was staring off into space, he poked her shoulder. “Are you even listening?”
She blinked at him. “There’s no D in refrigerator. So why the hell is there a D in fridge? It’s not like it would otherwise have been pronounced differently, is it?”
He felt his brows snap together. “That’s what you’re focusing on right now? Silent letters?”
“Well, they’re everywhere. Castle. Ballet. Climb. Knee. Conscience.” Bailey lifted her shoulders. “Why put letters in places they don’t need to be?”
Jesus Christ. “Why do you care?” Deke shot back.
She inched up her chin. “I don’t see how that’s your business.”
“Fine,” he bit out.
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
She cast him a superior look. “You already said that.”
“Felt like saying it again.”
“Uh, okay, parrot.”
It took everything Deke had not to grab a fistful of her hair, bend over, and slam his mouth on hers. To give his frustration the outlet he most wanted. To remind her of what had happened last night, because, with the way she was acting, he could honestly believe she’d forgotten.
Really, he should be keeping a physical distance from her. Her scent and proximity were making him feel even antsier than usual. Plus, the tension between them was more sexually charged than ever. All of that would likely trigger the touch-hunger to flare up again.
But it was galling him big time that she behaved as though last night hadn’t made an impression on her. No, as if he hadn’t made an impression. It was pricking at not only his pride but that of his cat, driving them both to want to get up in her space and provoke some sort of reaction from her; to get under her skin and push her into losing her infamous temper.