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One brow rises. “Are you saying you haven’t taken any tests?”

“Whatever happens, I’ll deal with it. You don’t have to worry.”

Trick’s eyes scan my living room, stopping on a glass of ginger ale that’s fallen flat.

“What are you drinking?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for an answer. Stalking to it, he then raises the glass and inhales. His brows crease in confusion.

Did he think it was wine?

He takes a sip. “Ginger ale?” He walks farther into my place, glancing around, then comes back to me. Taking my arm, he walks me toward the bathroom.

The building’s old, and the floors creak accusingly as I walk across the aged planks. Trick pushes me inside gently and stands in the bathroom doorway. Opening the box, he takes out the plastic test wand and holds it out to me.

As I stare at him, my hand grips the sink, waiting for him to step back and close the door. He doesn’t. Is he serious?

“I can’t. Not with you standing there.”

The corner of his mouth curves up. “I’ve had my mouth on everything between your legs. Pee on the stick.”

“I can’t.”

Flicking the sink’s faucet on, Trick glances at the old mirror, giving an extra moment to the crack in the corner. The rented house is old and definitely not up to his slick and modern decorating standards. Leaning back, he rests against the doorframe and stares at the other side. He’s not watching me directly, but I know he can still see me out of the corner of his eye.

He loosens his tie. “I can wait.”

“Why are you wearing a suit? Did someone die?”

“No. Everything’s fine.”

“Hardly ever see a picture of you in one.”

After a beat Trick says, “Had to go to court. Lawyer vetoed my World of Warcraft t-shirt.”

My eyes widen, suddenly very concerned. “Don’t make me pull it out of you one sentence at a time. Tell me what happened.”

He turns his head, and his gaze sweeps over me. “The federal prosecutor pulled me into Grand Jury proceedings.”

“Oh, my God.”

A brow rises. “It wasn’t about me directly. Do you understand how a Grand Jury works?”

I shake my head and realize I’ve moved closer to him.

“A Grand Jury decides if there’s enough evidence to go forward with criminal charges. I wasn’t the defendant. They wanted to hear testimony from me.”

“Oh. Did you—did it go all right?”

A flash of a smile appears and is gone just as quickly. “As prosecution witnesses go, I suck. Couldn’t remember a damn thing about the night in question.”

“Who’s being investigated?”

“No one who matters.”

“So that’s over?”

“For me it is.”

Cocking my head, I look pointedly at his royal blue silk tie for a moment. “All in a day’s work, is it?”