Bring the Heat by Jo Davis Page A

spotless living room. “It hasn’t been this clean since I moved in. And which one of you is the decorator? I didn’t know you guys had the flair.”
    There were several accent rugs lying about, as well as framed pictures someone had dug out of the albums that had been in storage boxes. Some were of his parents, some of his older brother who’d been killed in Desert Storm. There were even a couple of accent lamps on the side tables.
    Shane smiled. “Um, you know damn well none of us have a decorative bone in our bodies.”
    â€œWho did it, then?”
    â€œLaura. She helped Chris whip this place into shape.”
    â€œWow, that was nice of her.” Warmth stole over him, settled in his gut. He liked how it made him feel that she’d been here, trying to make things better for him.
    Danny and Shane smirked at each other, then at him. Danny spoke up. “Something going on there we need to know about?”
    â€œNo. Not that it’s any of your business.”
    â€œBut you’d like for there to be,” Shane said, grinning.
    â€œYou know, you may have tenure but I can still bust your ass back to investigating stolen bikes.”
    â€œNot at the moment, you can’t.”
    â€œWatch me. The second I’m back on duty, you’re in trouble.”
    â€œWhatever you say, Cap.”
    All around him was evidence that he was a lucky man. He had to remember that.
    He couldn’t allow his grief to keep him from living—or from putting a killer behind bars.
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    Austin nursed his second tonic—he wasn’t sure when he’d ever want so much as a beer again—and shifted on the barstool, glancing around at the crowd.
    The Waterin’ Hole was packed tonight. People were playing pool, laughing, and talking. Taylor’s girlfriend, Cara Evans, was setting up with her band, getting ready to play. They were a crowd favorite. Austin glanced around and didn’t see Taylor, but he figured the man would show at some point.
    Austin hadn’t spoken with Laura in a couple of days, since his release from the hospital, and that bugged him, more than it should. His need to go slow with her was in direct odds with the desire to pick up the pace. Should he make the first call? Something told him she wasn’t that old-fashioned—if she wanted to talk to him, she’d call.
    Or maybe not. Hell if he knew what to do.
    What was the oh-so-sweet Miss Eden up to right now? Was she on a date? Had he kissed her? Taken her home? Fuck.
    â€œHey, man. You gonna drink that tonic or what?”
    Austin met the bartender’s gaze. The man frowned at him, slung a hand towel over his shoulder, and braced his hands on the counter. The position caused his ripped biceps to bulge underneath his T-shirt, emphasizing his buff physique. The type of dude who was a magnet for anything female with a pulse, he’d bet
lonely
wasn’t part of this guy’s vocabulary.
    â€œYeah. What’s your name?”
    â€œChandler,” the man said, giving him a half smile.
    â€œWell, Chandler, it’s just been a long damn week.” He rubbed his temples.
    â€œBeing an instant local celebrity doesn’t agree with ya, huh? I saw the article in the paper, man. Sorry.” The bartender waved a hand at the crowd. “Maybe what you need is some female company to cheer you up. There’s several giving you the eyeball as we speak. Take that
Penthouse
beauty over there. She’s practically burnin’ a hole in your back, not that you’d ever notice.”He waggled his dark brows and nodded to a table off in a corner.
    Austin sighed. He wasn’t in the mood to play tonight. Unless—what if Laura had shown up? Did she even know he came here? The lady was resourceful, so she’d have no trouble finding him.
    The prospect of seeing her again appealed to him a great deal. His morose mood forgotten, he swung