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thought he might say no. “I enjoy your company, too,” he said softly, appearing to be considering his next words.

A loud knock on her door cut him off. They both went still, though Bridget immediately started barking. Carly muted the TV and looked at Micha.

“Should I answer it?” Carly asked, her voice trembling. She absolutely hated that she now felt unsafe in her own home.

“Do you have a peephole?” Micha asked, making his way toward the front entrance ahead of her. Since she did indeed have a peephole, he looked through it.

“Well?” she demanded when Micha simply continued to stare outside silently. “Who is it?”

“I think it might be your brother,” he told her, stepping back. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him, but that guy really looks like Jones.”

“Let me see.” She took a quick look through her peephole, before unlocking the dead bolt. “Jones! What are you doing here?” She stepped aside, ushering him into the house, locking the door behind him. “Come on in.”

After pulling her in for a quick hug, her brother grinned, his bright blue eyes full of mischief. “I came to make sure you’re all right.”

Had he heard about the car bomb? She eyed Jones, with his short dark hair and athletic build, deciding to stay quiet about that for now. The last thing she wanted to do was alarm her family.

“I’m fine,” she said firmly.

“Good.” Eyeing Micha, Jones held out his hand. “And I’m not going to lie. I wanted to see Micha. It’s been two years, after all.”

Jones had always liked Micha, and vice versa.

The two men shook. “It’s been too long,” Micha said.

“Yep. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do, for sure.”

Carly motioned them toward the den. “Jones, can I get you something to drink?”

Her brother laughed and lifted up a paper bag. “I brought a few bottles of our newest beer for you both to try. Micha, I remember how much you enjoyed a good IPA.”

“Your newest beer?” Micha asked. “What do you mean?”

Straightening, Jones beamed. “I own Lone Wolf Brewery. It’s in West Loop. We only serve beer and a few quick bar snacks.”

“It’s really nice,” Carly agreed. “Though the last time I was there, Jones was still working on getting it ready to open. Lots of space, and I’m guessing he’s got it all fixed up now.”

“I do.” Jones beamed. “I purposely kept it small and intimate. We can hold around twenty people at the bar, and thirty more at tables in the general area. So far, it’s exceeding my early expectations,” Jones said with modest pride. He dropped down onto the couch and gestured at Micha to join him.

“I’d love to see it.” Sitting, Micha accepted the beer Jones handed him. “Tell me about how you got started.”

Watching the two men banter, Carly felt a warm glow of pleasure. She kept her distance, wanting to give them time to catch up. But Jones glanced up and shook his head. “Don’t try to vanish into the kitchen. Come sit with us. Put up your feet and try my newest beer.”

Slightly sheepish, Carly did as he asked. Instead of joining them on the couch, she took the armchair. Jones tilted his head but didn’t comment as he handed her a can of beer.

Immediately, she jumped back to her feet. “Does anyone else want a glass?” When both men shook their heads, she practically dashed into the kitchen, beer can in hand.

“Do you think she’s avoiding us?” she heard Jones ask.

“She’s had a horrible few days,” Micha replied. And then, to her horror, he told her brother all about the car explosion.

Stomach in knots, Carly poured her beer into a glass, squared her shoulders and made herself march back into her living room.

Jones’s eyes narrowed. “Were you going to tell me about this at all, Carly?”

“Eventually.” She glanced at Micha. “Now I don’t have to.”

Glancing from one to the other, Micha frowned. “Why am I getting the feeling I should have kept my mouth shut?”

Carly snorted.

“You shouldn’t have,” Jones said. “Clearly, someone has to look out for Carly.”

“Ouch.” Carly clenched her teeth. “Jones, you just got here. I planned to tell you eventually. I just want to ask you not to mention this to Heath or any of the rest of the family.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Taking a long drink of his beer, Jones didn’t bother to stifle his disbelief. “Carly, everyone has to be told. This is a clear danger. You never know who in the family might be next.”

“Except we aren’t sure who was the target,” Micha pointed out. “The device was installed on my rental car, not Carly’s vehicle. That would seem to make it likely that I was the intended victim, not her.”

“Is that what the authorities think?” Jones asked.

“I believe so. The FBI asked me to provide a list of any known enemies.”

Surprised, Carly eyed him. Again, he’d kept something important hidden from her. “Why didn’t you tell me that?” she asked, carefully keeping her tone neutral. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d kept silent because he’d thought she might not need him to stay with her.

Micha shook his head. “I’d planned to get around to it tonight. We’d just started talking when Jones got here.”

“Give the guy a break,” Jones interjected in typical younger brother fashion. As the middle child in the family, Carly had often been stuck between Heath’s firstborn bossiness and youngest Jones’s teasing. “Come on, sis. Lighten up.”

As Jones had known it would, his admonishment annoyed her. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of reacting, Carly shook her head and sent a jab of her own. “You act more and more like Heath every day.”

Instead of being infuriated, Jones laughed. “Touché,” he said. He looked from Carly to Micha and back again. “I’m having a little family get-together at the Lone Wolf on Friday at eight and I wanted to personally invite you both.”

Carly’s first instinct was to balk. She still wasn’t sure she was

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