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There’s no teasing in his voice. However, there is a sharp edge, as though the idea of me with Granger bothers him. Interesting.

“It isn’t. He and I are friends.”

“And how did that come to be?”

“I pissed off Roman, and long story short, he dropped me off in the bad part of Oakland with nothing but a knife to my name. Granger and I had a run-in of sorts in the middle of the night, and the rest is history.”

“The gash on his face, you did that?”

“I’m pleading the fifth.”

“He said you saved his life and he spared yours.”

There’s no harm in telling him. Maddox isn’t discreet with his affairs, but he keeps mum when it comes to those closest to him, like his parents and his sister. I hope he puts me in the same category.

“We got caught in the middle of a drive-by shooting. I knocked him out of the way and sliced him in the face with my knife. He had every right to retaliate and kill me on the spot. Instead, he took me to the hospital.”

“Holy fuck. Are you okay?”

I smile. “It was years ago, Maddox, so yes, I’m fine.”

“Where’d you get shot?”

“The bullet grazed my shoulder and went under his armpit.”

Not quite the whole truth, but close. I bled like a stuck pig and was in surgery for hours, according to Roman, who felt guilty as sin. I lost consciousness after getting shot and don’t remember a thing other than waking up to a pacing Granger.

“You got lucky.”

“We both were, but boy, he was angry. He said I ruined his good looks.”

Maddox laughs, and the deep sound awakens the sleeping butterflies in my belly.

“You two are truly friends.”

“Yes.”

“And your other bodyguards? Did you save their lives too?”

“Nothing as dramatic as how Granger and I met. Marco is my best friend’s older brother. Shaw is his friend. And Owen is Shaw’s fraternal twin. They’re good guys, and they are all my friends. They’ve been with me since”—I blow out a breath—“since I felt in a right enough place to surround myself with men again.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to you, Blaise. And I’m sorry for what I said last night. I was out of line. I don’t know you and have no right judging you just because you weren’t willing to sell me Betty.”

I glance sidelong at him, biting down on my smile. “Ah, so you do think she’s a girl car. Where is she, by the way?”

“In my garage.”

“From what I’ve read, you have many of those.”

“I have her housed in Montana, near your estate.”

“Ex-estate,” I remind him, somehow not sad that I lost my second place of solitude.

“Whenever you want to see her, I’ll take you.”

“Thank you. That’s kind of you. Now go. Your date is probably wondering where you’re at.”

“How do you figure I’m going on a date?”

Has he seen him? Just looking at him melts my panties.

“What else would a guy like you do on a Saturday night?”

He rises off the couch. “And you?”

“I’m not for going out. My place is behind the safety of four walls. Good night.”