Christmas In Snowflake Canyon. RaeAnne Thayne
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“Take you up on what?”
“Nothing. Never mind. What the hell took you so long? Did you stop off for Thanksgiving leftovers at Pop’s on the way?”
Andrew Caine looked very much like she remembered Dylan looking before his accident. Gorgeous. Brown hair, blue eyes, chiseled features.
Tonight, Andrew’s short brown hair was rumpled a little on one side and she wondered if Dylan’s call had caught him in bed, or at least dozing on the couch while a basketball game played or something. His blue dress shirt was tailored and elegant but a little wrinkled, as if he had yanked it out of the laundry hamper at the last minute.
“Tell me why I never get calls about you during business hours. I ought to leave your ass in here overnight. Hell, I should leave you here all weekend. It would serve you right.”
“Guess it’s my turn for the annoying family lectures,” Dylan murmured in an aside to her.
A little laugh burbled out of her; she couldn’t help it, and he gazed at her mouth for a moment before jerking his gaze back to his brother.
“A bar fight at the Lizard. Really. Couldn’t you try for something a little more original?”
Dylan shrugged and aimed his thumb at Genevieve. “She started it.”
“Tell me you weren’t fighting with Genevieve Beaumont.” Andrew narrowed his gaze. “Pop is seriously going to kill you. And then Mayor Beaumont will scrape up what’s left of you and finish you off.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Annoyance flickered across his expression. “I haven’t sunk that low.”
“It was all my fault,” Genevieve said. “I...lost my head and your brother stepped in to try to calm the situation.”
“It obviously didn’t work.”
“Well, no,” she admitted.
“What’s this I hear about you scalping a county prosecutor and breaking her nose?”
She had actually physically attacked another human being. She flushed, hardly able to believe she had actually done that. She didn’t know how to respond. Fortunately, Dylan’s brother didn’t seem to require a response.
“Never mind,” he said. “I’m sure your father will fix things for you. Where is he?”
She gestured to the back of the police station. “He’s talking to Chief McKnight. But he’s not my attorney. You are.”
The man’s eyebrows rose just about to his hairline. “Since when?”
“Now. I want to hire you.” Of course, she didn’t have much money to pay him right now but she would figure something out.
“You really think your father will go for that?”
“I’m twenty-six years old. I make my own decisions.” Most of them had been poor the past few years but she decided not to mention that. “I would like to hire you to represent my interests. That’s all that really matters, isn’t it?”
He studied her for a long moment and then shook his head. “Sure. Far be it from me to turn away business, especially when it’s guaranteed to piss off William Beaumont. No offense.”
“None taken,” she assured him.
“I’m going to assume I’m entitled to some kind of referral bonus for steering new clientele your way,” Dylan said.
Her new attorney frowned at his brother. “You can assume you’re entitled to shut your pie hole and let me see if I can get you and your new friend here out of this mess.”
CHAPTER THREE
“THAT’S IT? We’re really free to go?”
An hour later, Jahn-Vi-Ev Beaumont looked at Andrew as if he had just rescued a busload of puppies from a burning building.
Dylan wasn’t quite sure why that made him want to punch something again.
“For now. Between your father and me, we were able to work the system a little to get you both out of here tonight. You’re still facing charges for felony assault. It’s a very serious accusation.”
“But at least I don’t have to spend the night in jail. I couldn’t have done that.” She shuddered. “I don’t even have any moisturizer in my purse!”
Dylan just refrained from rolling his eyes. He noticed Andrew was trying hard to avoid his gaze. “Maybe you should think of that next time before you start barroom fights,” his brother suggested mildly.
“I won’t be starting any more fights. You can be sure of that. I never want to walk into the Lizard again.”
“Good idea. I can’t guarantee you’re not going to serve any jail time for this. Felony assault is a very serious charge, Ms. Beaumont.”
To Dylan, this seemed like a lot of wasted energy over a couple of punches.
“I know.”
“Your father says he can give you a ride home.”
She looked through the glass doors to where Mayor Beaumont waited, all but tapping his foot with impatience. “Do I have to go with him?” she asked, her voice small.
“No law says you do.”
“Can’t you give me a ride to my car? I’m parked behind the bar.”
Did she really think her attorney’s obligation extended to giving his clients rides after a night in the slammer? And why was she so antagonistic toward her family? It didn’t make sense to him. Seemed to him, the Beaumonts were the sort who tended to stick together. Just them against the poor, the hungry, the huddled masses.
“How much did you have to drink tonight? Maybe you’d better catch a ride all the way.”
“Three—no, three and a half—mojitos. But that was hours ago. If you want the truth, I’m feeling more sober than I ever have in my life.”
He had a feeling she would want nothing so much as a stiff drink if she could see herself right now, her hair a mess, dried blood on her cheek from the cut, her sweater fraying at the shoulder where the district attorney must have grabbed a handful.
“Maybe you’d be better off catching a ride with your father.”
“Would you want your father to give you a ride home from the police station right now?” she demanded of Dylan. When he didn’t answer, she nodded. “That’s what I thought. I won’t drive, then. You can just give me a ride to my grandmother’s house. Either that or I’ll sneak out the back and walk.”
Andrew sighed. “I’ll take you to your grandmother’s house. I have to drop my idiot brother off, too. But you can’t just ditch your father. You have to go out there and tell him.”
So much for his puppy-saving lawyer brother. Now she looked at Andrew as if he were making her pull the wings off butterflies. Dylan didn’t have a whole lot of sympathy for her. Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time, sister.
“Fine,” she said and tromped out of the room in sexy boots that had somehow lost a heel in the ruckus.
The minute she left, Andrew turned on him. “Gen Beaumont. Seriously? I do believe you’ve hit a personal low.”
“Knock it off,” he growled. Funny. While he might have said—at least thought—the same thing, he didn’t like the derision in his brother’s voice when he said her name.
“What were you thinking, messing with Gen Beaumont?”
“I was not messing with her.” He didn’t want to defend himself, but he also didn’t want to listen to his brother dis her, for reasons he wasn’t quite ready to explore.
“Yeah,