Jaymie Holland by Tattoos, Leather: BRANDED

she let her gaze drift over his square jaw, his powerful tattooed arms, and the way his jeans encased his athletic thighs. “At least let us do a sweep of your apartment,” he said.
    With the advanced security system they’d set up in her place, she figured that Dane and Colton were probably sure she was safe, but it wouldn’t hurt to let them check things out.
    She nodded. “Okay.” She stepped back so the men could enter, and closed the door behind them.
    The men spent a few moments looking around her apartment and checking all rooms. While she waited, she turned on the air conditioning unit and stood in the somewhat cool air. The unit chugged but at least produced enough air to dry the perspiration on her skin from the heat outside.
    It wasn’t a very big apartment so it wasn’t long before the men returned to where she waited in the living room.
    “It’s secure,” Dane said.
    Colton touched the side of her face. “If you need anything, you call us. Got that?”
    She nodded. “Promise.”
    He kissed her lightly then stepped away. Dane kissed her, too, and then the men left her apartment.
    She closed the door behind them and leaned with her head back against the door. Spending any time with these men was treading on dangerous ground. She’d let them take her to Dr. Anderson’s for her appointment, then she’d thank them and send them payments for the doctor bills, and that would be that.

Chapter 6
    Drew’s sundress fluttered in a light breeze as the three of them left the building where Dr. Anderson’s office was located. She preferred sundresses in this heat and had several in similar styles.
    It was five days after the surgeon had stitched her up and today he’d removed the sutures. She had a bright pink line down her cheek, but it felt much better now. She no longer had a black eye, the scrape on her forehead had healed, leaving only a faint pink mark, and her butt didn’t hurt when she sat.
    This was the first time she’d seen Colton and Dane since they’d originally taken her to the doctor. They’d called and she’d put them off, telling them she didn’t feel well enough to go out or had things going on.
    But today was the day she had promised to go out to dinner with the men. And here she was.
    “I know a great little Italian place.”
    “Italian sounds good,” Drew said.
    They reached the Mercedes that they had arrived in. Colton helped her into the backset through the curbside door while Dane went around to the opposite side.
    When they were seated, Colton squeezed her knee, sending delicious heat throughout her. “I met the owners when I was a beat cop and have been going there ever since.”
    “Tony’s Italian is the best.” Dane nodded his agreement and looked at Drew. “You’ll love it.”
    Tony’s Italian was a basement restaurant with only three of the square tables taken by couples this evening. Drew took in the dim dining room as they walked through the entrance. The tablecloths were red and white checked over long white cloths, and had four place settings at each unoccupied table. At the center of each was a bottle of table wine, along with wine glasses at the place settings, and a flickering white candle by the wine bottle. It was cool inside the small restaurant, a welcome reprieve from the heat.
    Above them, bunches of plastic grapes hung from crisscrossed pieces of wood. Arched cubbies in the walls each had a scene, as if the cubby was a window looking out at Italian landscapes.
    An opening to the kitchen, like a long large window with no glass, allowed patrons to see the chefs at work. The place smelled amazing, of Italian bread and red sauce.
    Colton glanced at Drew. “We’re here early so the dinner crowd hasn’t arrived yet.”
    “ Benvenuto, Signors James and Packard.” A man with a strong Italian accent swept out of the kitchen. He wore a white shirt and black pants, and had a red cloth over one shoulder.
    “Hi, Tony.” Colton gave a nod.
    “Who is this