“Just interesting?” She smothered a yawn, wishing he would hurry.
“Dawg never seemed the possessive sort to me.” Johnny shrugged. “But as I said, it’s usually a seduction technique. He has any number of interesting games he’s played over the years. He does give the family plenty to gossip over.”
Suddenly, being here just didn’t feel right. It was obvious that despite their familial connection that Johnny liked Dawg even less than he claimed Dawg liked him. Not that she figured the whole family feud thing was any of her business, but right now, it paid to be just a little wary of Dawg.
“And we’re definitely in trouble,” Johnny suddenly claimed morosely, his lips pursing into a pout as he glanced at the rearview mirror.
Crista twisted around in the seat, her eyes widened, then she flopped forward again and crossed her arms over her br**sts.
Dawg and Natches were riding behind the car like denim-clad motorized warriors. Their expressions were stony, and the smile Dawg had flashed her was anything but friendly. It reminded her of a shark.
“Just drop me off in front of the diner, Johnny.” She sighed. “I’ll be okay there.”
“Are you sure?” A delicate frown formed between his brows. “I feel a little funny just leaving you with him like this. Dawg isn’t always predictable.”
She snorted. That was an understatement if she ever heard one.
“I can handle Dawg.” She hoped.
She waited as Johnny pulled to the curb several minutes later and stopped the car. She didn’t give him time to say anything. She stepped quickly from the car, slammed the door, and then turned her back on all of them and moved for the narrow alley that led to the back lot.
Dawg was right behind her, and so was Natches. Opening her purse, she pulled her keys free, refusing to glance around. He had no right to intimidate her. And if she let him keep doing it, then it would never stop.
As she reached her car and unlocked it, she turned back then, lifting her brows at the two men watching her with equally fierce expressions from the motorcycles that pulled in behind her little red Rodeo.
Déjà vu. She wondered if she would end up leaving with her car this time.
The engines were cut, leaving the parking lot strangely silent, as though even the breeze itself were wondering what they would do now.
“I see you’ve been out having fun.” She flicked a glance to the motorcycles.
“Get on.” Dawg jerked his head to the side, indicating the back of the motorcycle.
“I don’t think so,” she said brightly. “I’m going to go home, pack the rest of my stuff, and I’ll meet you back at the boat later. Why don’t you and Natches there go take the edge off your tempers somewhere? I’m not in the mood to deal with it.”
He swung his leg over the seat of the motorcycle as he rose, clad in faded jeans and a white, short-sleeved, buttoned shirt, he looked like the ultimate bad boy. A ravisher, a modern-day warrior.
The sight of his black hair blowing in the breeze and his light green eyes glittering in his dark face had a rush of damp warmth spilling from her vagina.
As though she hadn’t been wet enough to begin with.
“Dawg.” She sighed. “Don’t start trying to intimidate me, okay? We both know damned good and well no one but you and whoever left that notice knew I was there last night. You’re trying to control me, and a good blackmailer sticks to the main object; he doesn’t blackmail for the air a person breathes.
Okay?”
His eyes narrowed. “You have it all worked out, don’t you, fancy-face?”
“Stop calling me that.” She hated the nickname he had given her as a teenager. It had caused her no end of teasing for years. “Now, you can follow me to the house and help me finish packing, or you can go back where you came from. Your choice.”
She lifted herself into the driver’s seat, closed the door, and shoved the key into the ignition. She gave it a quick turn, and nothing happened. The starter clicked hollowly, but the motor didn’t turn over.
Frowning, she released it, then moved to turn it again.
Before she could complete the motion, the door jerked open, and she barely had time to gasp before Dawg was pulling her free of the vehicle, his expression fierce as he all but lifted her off her feet and rushed away from the vehicle.
“What the hell are you doing?” She tugged at the arm latched around her waist and stared back at her Rodeo. It was sitting there, door open, deserted, as Dawg pushed her to the motorcycle and turned back to the vehicle.
“Dawg. I’m tired. I’m dusty. And I need the rest of my clothes. If you don’t have a really, really good reason—”
A loud, wrenching pop jerked her gaze back to the Rodeo. A Rodeo whose little red hood was tossed into the air like a Frisbee. The front of the vehicle suddenly shot up in flames.
Lots of flames. So fast and so hot that within a second the interior was a red, furious blaze as she stood in shock, trying to comprehend exactly what had happened.
The hood landed on the other side of the parking lot, the crash of metal to asphalt barely registering as she watched Dawg and Natches tearing toward the vehicle, the fire extinguishers they carried in the saddle packs of their motorcycles gripped in their hands.
Diners came running from the back door. The cook lugged out a larger extinguisher, and someone yelled that the fire department was on their way. And all Crista could do was stare at the driver’s seat, engulfed in flames, and feel the ice moving through her body.
It appeared that Dawg had been right after all.
ELEVEN
“I hope the three of you have some damned good explanations, because I’m not really happy with you right now.”
Sheriff Ezekiel Mayes, Zeke to his friends, didn’t bother glancing at Crista or Kelly Salyers, who had arrived at the diner with her fiancé within half an hour of the initial explosion. He trained his light brown eyes on the three cousins instead, a hard frown pulling at his forehead.
“Don’t look at me, Zeke.” Rowdy shook his head, his short black hair gleaming beneath the bright overhead lights. “I just came by to make sure they were still alive.” He nodded toward his cousins, a friendly smile on his lips, though his gaze was cool and warning.
The three cousins sat at the large, round table in the back of the dining room. Kelly was placed between Rowdy and Natches, and Crista between Dawg and Natches. The scene couldn’t have been more incriminating, considering the Mackay cousins’ reputations.