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“Since I’m thinking about getting you naked, I’m thrilled you’re not Howie.”

Outside, Owen started to call Jones.

“I’ve got a question first. What was your immediate thought when I said the asshole called Sonya a bitch?”

“That Trey and I should take a ride to Boston, then flip for who got to punch him first.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Trey wouldn’t do it, not for words. But if that fucker goes after her again, even with words, he’ll find a way to make him pay for it. That’s what Trey does.”

She nodded as they walked, as the sea beat its drum and the moon sailed overhead.

“I took a pair of his boxer shorts when we packed up his crap. I buried them with a curse. I really hope it worked at least some.”

“What kind of curse?”

“Jock itch.”

Owen winced, shifted. “Remind me to stay on your good side. I’ve got to get going.”

“Mmm. Do you snore?”

“Nobody’s complained. Why?”

“I like my sleep, so I need to know if I’ll let you stay after we have sex or boot you out.”

She turned, wrapped around him, and kissed him in the moonlight like a woman who’d already made up her mind.

“Is this because I talked about punching that guy?”

“That put a cap on it, but there are several more reasons in the bottle. Do you want to hear them now?”

“Not really. Do you snore?”

She smiled, took his hand, and drew him toward the house.

“Why don’t you come in and find out?”

Dobbs didn’t wait until three.

Just after one, the doorbell began its bong. And smoke alarms through the manor began to scream. The dogs leaped up barking.

Trey was out of bed in a flash and dragging on pants.

“It’s Dobbs.” Sonya scrambled up. “It’s got to be.”

“It’s Dobbs, but we need to check. The alarm company’s going to call, give them the code, tell them to hold off the fire department.”

“I don’t remember the code. Damn it!” The echoing boom from the third floor nearly drowned out her voice.

“LBM-1794.”

Trey was out of the bedroom a step ahead of her and hit the hallway as Owen and Cleo rushed out of Cleo’s room.

He said, because he couldn’t think of anything else, “Okay. Ah, Sonya’s going to hold off the fire department. You head down, we’ll head up. If you see any smoke, any fire, send me a nine-one-one.”

Shoving at his hair, Owen nodded. “It’s Dobbs, but we look.”