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“You’re distracted. You’re hardly ever here. What the fuck are you up to?”

“Maybe he needs a therapist,” Cash grumbled.

“Fuck you, Cash.”

“Seriously, Gunner. What’s goin’ on? Beck said you offered to pick up some groceries for her the other day,” Blade tattled.

Turning to Blade, Gunner sounded offended when he asked, “Why is that weird? I was going by the store and thought she might need something.”

“Cuz you ain’t nice,” Jingles commented.

“What the fuck? I am too nice.”

Scoffing, I looked at my brother. Who did he think he was kidding? He was never fucking nice. That wasn’t true. He was nice to the girls when he opened his mouth and spoke to them.

Which wasn’t often.

But he didn’t offer to do things for them. That’s what we had prospects for, and Gunner never shied away from making sure they had plenty to do.

With a heavy sigh, he confessed, “I needed a reason to go into the store.”

Nav started clicking away and before we could blink, he had a video of Manny’s up on the screen at the front of the room.

We watched as a beautiful woman with long, dark hair walked into the store, followed by Gunner a moment later. Sitting back in my chair, I kept my mouth shut as I grinned. Gunner was stalking this woman, but if I had my guess, he wouldn’t admit to why.

“Is that the woman from the bar? The fucking shrink?” Cash asked.

We all watched as he grabbed her arm and then immediately let go. Everyone turned his way and glared at him. Without any sound, we couldn’t tell what he’d said to the woman, but it looked pretty damn incriminating.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you two? Who is this woman?” King barked at both Cash and Gunner.

“That’s Haizley Walker. She was two years ahead of me in school. She grew up in Diamond Creek. A car accident killed her parents when she was sixteen, and she convinced Sheriff Jones to let her avoid the system and live alone in her house,” Blade informed us.

Nav was busy banging away. It didn’t take him long before he came up with more information.

“Looks like she got a full ride scholarship to college, got a degree in Psychology, and then came home to open her practice.”

“How can she have a practice? She never leaves her fucking house,” Gunner complained.

“She sees clients online,” Nav noted.

“How the fuck do you know she never leaves the house?” King asked him.

I rolled my lips to contain the laugh that wanted to burst out. Gunner gave me so much shit about the woman I met when I was in Oklahoma. I wouldn’t let this go, but now wasn’t the time. Not with the vein in King’s neck beginning to show.

“She told me.”

“Explain,” he demanded.

Gunner ran his hands over his face. He was screwed.

“I saw her at the bar the night Cash got wasted and I had to call Tank and Ben to take him home.”

“Wasn’t wasted,” Cash argued.

“You couldn’t even stand up on your own, asshole,” Gunner insisted.