Without thinking about it, she said, “Of course.”
Satisfaction curled his mouth. “Because she’s Cannon’s baby sis, and you care about Cannon.”
God help her, she loved Cannon. Always had and probably always would. There wasn’t much she wouldn’t do for him.
Clearing the melon-size lump out of her throat, she squeaked, “Yes.”
“There you go. Accept the helping hand when any of us offers, okay? We’ll be offended otherwise. And seriously, we’re all annoying as shit when we’re offended.”
He spoke of “us” and “we” as if the fighters who utilized the rec center were always of one mind. And maybe, when it came to certain things—like Cannon—they were. She didn’t really know what to say, so she said simply, “It’s very much appreciated.”
“And fun, right? Everyone enjoys hanging out together. It’s not as though hanging a door or moving a few boxes takes all that much effort.”
“I had fun.”
“Good.”
He turned down the street toward her house. They saw that the door was up, and it looked terrific. Better than the old door. Probably more secure, as well.
“Dirtbag.”
Yvette had been occupied watching Cannon replace tools in the garage, but at that growled sentiment, she looked at Armie. “What?”
“The coward who dicked with your door. I hate that sneaky crap.”
She pretty much hated it, too. “It bothers me a lot that my problems are spilling over and affecting Cannon. If I could, I’d keep him totally uninvolved.”
Armie snorted. “Some friendly advice—don’t say that to Cannon. No involved guy would want to hear it, but Cannon gets more involved than most.”
Knowing he was probably right, she said in a smaller voice, “I only meant uninvolved with the trouble.” And before he made her feel even worse, she explained, “I wanted him to see me differently this time.”
At that, Armie laughed outright.
Insulted, she narrowed her eyes at him. “Why is that funny?”
“How the hell did you want him to see you? The poor guy is upside down over you.” He lifted a brow. “Majorly in lust.”
“Armie,” she warned.
But he’d already moved on. “He likes you, too, though. Wouldn’t have brought you around the rec center otherwise. And clearly he enjoys you. Don’t think I’ve ever seen the guy so touchy-feely, and always smiling.” Shaking his head, he asked, “Did you want him to be oblivious?”
“Of course not.” She wanted him to be...well, impressed. And didn’t that just make her sound shallow?
“Then I’d say he’s seeing you exactly as he should.” Softening, going more serious, he said, “But, hon, I get what you’re saying. You wanted to show him that you were free of the past.”
Exactly! “Yes, that’s what I meant.”
“Only no one ever is. Not me, not Cannon.” He glanced at her. “Not you. Some shit digs in, gets under our skin, and while we might get used to it, we can’t get rid of it. It takes part in everything we do, every decision we make.”
Did Armie’s past play into his outrageousness? Most likely. She rubbed a smudge of dirt on her jeans. “The thing is, Cannon got pulled into all my mayhem before I moved away. Then, as soon as I get home, I find out my grandfather has more or less saddled him with me. I was dealing with that, but now Heath is here, causing more trouble.” The spot of dirt remained—much like her problems.
“I say you just go with it.”
She gave up on her messy clothes and instead stared at Armie. “Go with it how?”
“Stop fighting fate. Stop fighting Cannon.”
“I haven’t been!”
“Bull. I see it, so I guarantee you that he sees it.” He pulled into the driveway, and Cannon started out of the open garage to greet them.
“You’re here,” Armie added. “Looks to me as if you’re staying. So jump in with both feet. Tiptoeing around never got anything accomplished.”
She didn’t have time to assimilate that before Cannon opened her door, tugged her out and greeted her with his mouth on hers.
“Way to make me feel like a third wheel,” Armie complained.
Cannon kept his arm around her waist. “Everyone knows you like things in threes.”
“Not when I’m just a bystander.” Grinning at Yvette’s blush, Armie added, “Got everything moved in and locked up again before we left.”
“Great. Drinks are on me tonight.”
When they both laughed, Yvette said, “Why is that a joke?”
“Because neither of us will be drinking.” He stole another kiss, took her hand and started for the garage. “I have to show you what we found.” He looked back. “Come on, Armie. You’ll want to see this, too.”
In the middle of the floor was a medium-size safe. Yvette looked up and saw a panel missing in the ceiling. “It was up there?”
“Yeah. Centered on two-by-fours across the rafters. Damn thing weighs around a hundred pounds. We had a heck of a time getting it down.”
“We?” Armie asked, walking around the safe.
“Denver helped. It barely fits through the opening, so it was pretty awkward.”
“And if you misstepped, you and the safe both would have come through the ceiling.”