Read Cole McGinnis 05 - Down and Dirty for Free Online Page A

least waterboarding, if not bamboo slivers under his fingernails.
    With a possible chaser of hot sauce in his eyes and coarse jalapeno salt rubbed into his wounds.
    “That’s my brother you’re staring at there, old man,” Cole muttered into Bobby’s ear as he sat down beside him. “No need to try to get him pregnant with your eyes.”
    “A guy can look, Princess,” Bobby shot back, digging into his potato salad with a plastic fork. “Maybe you should tell your baby brother not to suck that thing off like he’s trying to remove chrome from a tailpipe. Might give a man the wrong idea.”
    “He’s not—”
    One of the neighborhood flotsam invited to the casual dinner made a hungry noise despite the mound of food she’d just shoveled into her mouth, and Bobby grinned up at his friend. “Maybe even give a woman the wrong idea too.”
    Cole shook his head at Bobby’s teasing, picking at the label on his beer bottle. As long as Bobby’d known the man, Cole’s effervescent nature shone through even the darkest of moods. The man’s skin vibrated with energy, his gold-green eyes sharp with intelligence. Long months of pain and stress left a faint hint of crow’s feet at the edges of Cole’s slightly turned-up eyes, but it did little to detract from his strong cheekbones and handsome face. His thick brown-black hair was almost shoulder length again, more from neglect than any attempt to grow it out, and a few strands tangled into his long lashes, falling across his nose.
    It was easy to see a resemblance between the brothers, even though Cole’s shoulders were wider, and his features bore the stamp of his Irish father. Both men had their mother’s mouth, a full, rich shape made for kissing or biting.
    Thing is, he’d never wanted to bite Cole, whereas Ichiro was beginning to look mighty tasty.
    “Remember, Dawson,” Bobby muttered through a mouthful of salad. “Vlad’s got nothing on a pissed-off Cole.”
    “What?” Cole jostled into Bobby’s side, their elbows doing a quick dance for space. “Going crazy? Talking to yourself now?”
    “Yeah, well, if I want intelligent conversation with you around, talking to myself is my best bet.” He made a show of looking around the yard, taking in the small clusters of brightly dressed people scattered about. “Who invited Greenpeace? You or the boyfriend?”
    “We’ve come to an agreement. A détente. For the good of the neighborhood.” Cole flashed a quick smile, brightening the shadows in his eyes. “Besides, they brought dessert. The cake’s awesome.”
    “Never thought you’d show belly over a cake.”
    “It’s chocolate,” he shot back. “I’d show belly, dick, and the inside of my butt crack for a good chocolate cake. I’m thankful as hell Jae doesn’t bake, or I’d be up shit creek.”
    “I think you’re already there, Princess.” He shot another quick look at Ichiro, who’d ambled over to where Jae was poking at what looked like tofu chunks on the new grill’s griddle attachment. “Any word about Sheila?”
    He’d dug far enough to strike molten rock, or maybe the anger in Cole’s eyes was merely simmering on the surface, because a green fire lit in their depths. A piece of chicken on Cole’s plate suffered from an intense plastic tine stabbing before Cole shook his head.
    “Nothing yet.” Cole’s attention roamed over the yard as if he were searching through the shadows for his dead partner’s wife. “I don’t like that she’s out there. And I really don’t like that I can’t find her.”
    “She’ll show up.” Bobby hoped he sounded encouraging, but the odds of them finding the woman were slim. Los Angeles had a way of hiding its deadly secrets, and most didn’t surface until it was much too late to do anything about them.
    “Yeah, so I keep saying, but so far, nothing.” Cole must have grown tired of pushing his food around because he shoved his plate across the table. He turned sideways until he straddled the