Riley shook his head in annoyance as he sorted through the mail. His little brother hadn't lived in the Bohland House since he graduated from college but still traipsed in and out like he did. Don't you have a refrigerator in that swanky loft of yours?

Yep, but there's no beer in it.

Riley heard the pop of a bottle cap and rolled his eyes. He had half a mind to call the cops on Matt. He'd do it, too, if his brother weren't the chief of the Persuasion Police Department.

Riley threw down the mail and followed Matt to the fridge. You know, seriously, it wouldn't kill you to knock, Matt. What if I was in here all tangled up in a game of nude Twister or something?

Matt took one long gulp of beer after another, staring at his brother over the length of the bottle. Eventually, Matt let out a sigh of relief, slammed the empty on the counter, and patted Riley's arm. I didn't know our girl Loretta was into freaky shit like that. Matt then belched loudly, moved into the parlor, and flopped on the settee.

Riley grabbed a couple more beers and went in after him. Hilarious. Take off your boots, man. They're covered in mud.

Right. Matt unlaced his work boots and set them on the wood floor by the couch. Look, I gotta tell youI really feel bad about spraying Kat Cavanaugh with muck like that. Slowly, Matt turned his head to look at Riley, and after a moment of tightly wound silence, the two burst out laughing. Loretta joined in.

You did that on purpose, dickhead.

No, I swear I didn't! I wasn't paying much attention to Kat, to tell you the truth. I didn't even realize it was her I nailed until I got out of the cruiser. Matt grabbed one of the fresh beers from the coffee table.

I'm not ashamed to tell you that my focus was on the brunette in the Jaguar. I'm lucky I didn't run Kat flat over.