Nauti Temptress by Lora Leigh Page B

week.”
    “The owner let her use it since it was just sitting there empty,” Mercedes agreed. “You know how she is; she’ll show up.”
    And she would, Eve thought.
    “I’d help, but I promised Sierra I’d work at Walker’s this week and next,” she told them. “They’ve had two waitresses quit on them in the last month and they’ve not replaced them yet.”
    Piper groaned and turned to her mother. “I can handle breakfast alone, Momma, but not dinner. You’re going to have to talk to Lyrica.”
    Eve grinned at the familiar refrain. In one form or another, from one sister or another, it was the same argument and had been since they were children.
    “You’ll have help, Piper,” Mercedes promised her with a laugh. “Now let Eve go to bed.”
    “I need to talk to Eve first.” Dawg stepped from the television and game room, leaning against the doorframe as he tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans and watched them quietly.
    There was the barest hint of gray in his hair, Eve realized. Right there at the side, when he turned his head just a certain way, she could see the few strands gleaming in the devil’s black.
    How old was he now? Forty-four? Forty-five, she believed.
    He didn’t look it.
    His shoulders were still broad, his arms powerful, his abs lean. He was still in his prime, and Eve knew his wife very much appreciated that fact.
    He’d waited to talk to her, and his impatience was apparent.
    “Is there a problem?” She frowned back at him, surprised he was still there.
    It was rare that Dawg became this stubborn over anything, despite his name and the rumor that he’d acquired it because of his steely determination.
    “There could be,” he growled.
    “In what way?” Mercedes moved to them, her maternal instincts instantly rousing.
    Dawg looked up to the ceiling as though searching for patience.
    When his gaze returned to them there was an edge of amusement in his light green eyes. “Mercedes, it’s nothing for you to get worked up over,” he promised her. “I just need to talk to Eve about something, that’s all.”
    “Let’s get it over with,” Eve suggested. “I really need to go to bed.”
    She entered the television/game room and, turning, watched as Dawg closed the door before turning back to her.
    Her brows lifted at the move to keep the conversation private.
    “Are you sure everything’s okay?” she asked.
    “You tell me.” His gaze was intent as he crossed his arms over his chest and braced his feet apart as though steeling himself for a fight.
    “Dawg, I’m not in the mood for games,” she told him, confused by the question. “I haven’t slept since yesterday morning sometime, and I have to be at the bar by six this evening.” She glanced at the clock. “If I hurry, I might get five hours in before rushing back over there.”
    His jaw clenched. “Then I’ll get straight to the point.”
    “That’s the thing to do,” she agreed with a sharp nod as she propped herself on the heavily padded arm of the chair beside her.
    “Brogan Campbell,” he stated.
    Eve stilled. Dawg rarely had much to say about the men she and her sisters dated or seemed interested in. He watched, waited, and was always there if they needed to talk. But he never played the heavy-handed brother. This was the first time he’d ever approached her about anyone she was interested in.
    She didn’t say anything; she waited.
    “There’s a lot of talk, Eve,” he finally said. “A lot of people are seeing your interest in him.”
    “So?” She crossed one knee over the other before crossing her arms over her breasts and frowning back at him.
    “Are you? Interested?” he asked gruffly.
    “I don’t know.” She shrugged as though it didn’t matter. “Come on, Dawg; we practically live in the same house, and see each other often. He’s cute as hell, and damned interesting—”
    “He’s also a suspected traitor who was dishonorably discharged from the Marines four years ago.”