Which meant Nash was right. Again.
“Damn it,” I muttered.
Nash and Waylay both looked at me with concern over their cones.
“Don’t mind me. Brain freeze,” I said.
Brain freeze, life-altering epiphany—same difference, right?
“We talked to your aunt and Knox and they said it was okay if we asked you some questions about that night,” Nash continued. “Are you all right with that?”
Waylay shrugged carelessly and chased a drip with her tongue. “Sure. Why not?”
“What do you remember?” I asked.
She shot me a duh look. “Uh, everything? You don’t get abducted by your mom and her crazy boyfriend every day. It’s kinda burned into my brain.”
“Let’s focus on when you were in the warehouse alone with Duncan,” Nash suggested. “What did he say or do before your mom came back with your aunt?”
“Well, he fed me some disgusting pizza. It was, like, burnt and cold at the same time. Then when I tried to climb out a window with Waylon, he tied us both up.”
Ever the hero, Nash’s shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly. I reached behind Waylay and rubbed his back with my non-ice cream holding hand.
“What did he do while you were tied up?” I asked.
“Mostly played video games. He ate a lot. Mostly shitty—I mean crappy pizza and some candy. I think he’s a nervous eater. Aunt Naomi would freak if she saw his diet.”
“Did he talk on the phone at all while you were there?” Nash asked.
Waylay wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think so. He mostly just yelled while he played Dragon Dungeon Quest.” She looked back and forth between us, then added, “That’s a video game where you shoot people with arrows and blow sh—stuff up.”
“Did anyone else come into the room while you were there?”
“I guess a couple of…what do you call the bad guys who work for the bad guy in charge?”
“Henchmen?” I supplied.
“Yeah. A couple of henchmen came in. Every time Duncan had to take his headset off, he got mad and yelled at them for interrupting him.”
Waylay walked us through everything she remembered that night, including Naomi diving through the air to save her and Knox squashing them “like pancakes” until Uncle Nash saved the day.
“My mom has the worst taste in guys.” Waylay finished her recap with a sardonic shake of her head. “Not like you and Aunt Naomi,” she added, looking at me.
“Oh, uh, we’re just…” I looked to Nash. “Help?”
“Yeah, me and Knox are pretty great. Well, mostly me. Knox is okay. If you’re into growly grumps who pout all the time,” Nash said, nudging Waylay with his elbow.
It was sweet to watch him with the guarded girl. He was good with kids. And why in the hell was I thinking about that? “Good with kids” had never once been a criterion for me.
“Thanks again for Career Day. Don’t tell Knox, ’cause he really will pout, but you and the ’stache definitely won.”
“Yes! I knew it!” Nolan, who was clearly eavesdropping, straightened away from the front bumper of his SUV and celebrated his official victory with an arm pump.
“You have ice cream in your mustache,” I called.
Sloane: Question. Does following Nash and Lina on their ice cream interrogation of Waylay count as a second date for me and Nolan? Asking for a friend who only puts out after the third date.
Naomi: It most definitely counts. You are one date away from Sexville!
Me: When are you seeing him again?
Sloane: Not before I get a wax, apply a thick coat of sunless tanner, heal from said wax, change my sheets, and buy some underwear.
Naomi: What do you mean buy some underwear? Don’t you mean buy some sexy underwear?
Me: My God. Is our quirky librarian a commando??
Sloane: I have revealed too much.
When we got back to Nash’s place, I freshened up Piper’s water dish and gave her her prebedtime gourmet treat. Then I went into the bedroom and changed into a sexy little silk number that showed more than it hid.
I found Nash standing in the dining room holding up a photo of the interior of the warehouse.
“Whatcha got there?” I asked, sidling up next to him.
“Something Waylay said got me thinkin’—Holy shit,” he said, noticing my outfit.
“Thinking about what?”
“Your boobs.” He shook his head. “No. That’s not what I was thinking about. I mean, I’m kind of always thinking about them. But not in a pervy way. More like a worshipful way.”
I took the photo from his dangling hand and glanced at it. “It’s a gaming console.”
Nash said nothing, and I realized he was still staring at my chest. I held the picture over my breasts. “Focus, hotshot. Talk to me.”
“Hugo’s gaming console,” Nash said, slowly coming out of his boob fugue.
“Looks like it was shot to hell. Do you think anyone could get anything useful off it?”
“We might not need them to.”
I met his gaze and it hit me. “Because he wasn’t yelling at the TV. He was yelling at other players.”
“Because he was playing online,” Nash said with a slow grin.
“Now who’s Nancy Drew?” I teased. “This is good. Really good. We could trace his location, couldn’t we?”
Nash pulled out his phone and dialed. “Hey. I need a favor.”
He listened briefly and rolled his eyes.
“Shouldn’t you be saving that for the wedding night?”
There was another brief pause and Nash winked at me.
“Then put your pants back on and go ask Way what Hugo’s username was on Dragon Dungeon Quest.” Nash waited a beat. “Yeah, the three scoops of ice cream were my fault.”
Nash reached for me and pulled me up against him. But instead of grabbing a handful of boob as I expected, he held my hand and kissed each one of my fingers while he waited for his grumpy brother.
“Yeah, I’m here,” Nash said into the phone. “She remember?”
His gaze held mine. I wondered if I’d ever seen eyes that blue before.
“Yeah. Got it. Thanks… No. You can take your pants off again. I’m about to.”
“She remembered it, didn’t she?” I asked when he hung up.
“Sure did. KingSchlong85.”
“Gross.”
Nash opened up his text messages. “If he’s using the same user name, Lucian’s creepy stealth team should be able to track down an IP address.”
“God, you’re hot when you’re all sleuthy.”
“And you’re sexy as hell when you’re investigating in lingerie.”
He tossed his phone on the counter and took a step toward me, a dangerous, determined gleam in his eyes.
I held up my hands and started to back away. “Hang on. We just had a break. Shouldn’t we wait to see what Lucian says?”
“No one says we have to wait with our clothes on,” he said as he kept coming.
I pulled out a dining chair and put it between us.
“But there’s work to do,” I reminded him.
“And there will still be work to do once I get you out of that outfit,” he said devilishly.