CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“If it’s something dangerous or volatile then I don’t want it in my house,” Lyssa said, running up her front stoop, keys in hand, as the men followed with the bags from Pinch’s.
“He’s volatile,” Ruger said, nodding at his brother. “And you let him into your bed.”
“He doesn’t have the potential to explode and kill me,” she said, putting the key in the lock.
Ruger snorted. “No? Sure about that?”
“You, can it,” Colt said. Coming up behind her, he kissed her shoulder. “It’s nothing dangerous.”
“Thank you,” she said, appreciating his honesty, alleviating her concerns, as opposed to Ruger who was contrary for the sake of it. Obviously, her suggestion that he might need a bout on her couch had upset him. “You two wait here.”
“Why?” Ruger said.
Colt crowded in behind her
