“Right after I screamed.”

“Yeah, after that. But anyone can get startled.”

“Ah, hon.” Armie pitched in on the effort of reassuring her. “You were a rock last night after that bozo tried to grab you.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Impressed the hell out of me.”

Cannon tried to shake it off, but he was completely leveled. Armie, the guy who never got close to nice girls, not even if they were attached to another man, had obviously become friends with Yvette. He was completely at ease with her, caring, funny...himself.

Incredible.

Oh, sure, Armie could be friendly with anyone. He was nice to Harper, Gage’s girlfriend, but Harper was almost like one of the guys. Armie kept his interactions with her superficial. And he was always respectful enough, though distant, with Rissy.

But with Yvette, the nicest of the nice girls, he was the same good friend that Cannon knew so well.

Yvette had done what no other woman could—she’d gotten close to Armie.

Armie scowled. “What?”

He caught himself and shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Screw that. You’re staring at me like I’ve grown a second head, dissecting me or something. I want to know why.”

“You’re not coming on to Yvette.”

He flattened back in his seat. “What? Hell, no! I wouldn’t.” He glanced at Yvette. “No offense.”

She smiled at him. “None taken.”

“But damn, man, just because she flashed me the goods—”

“Armie!”

“—doesn’t mean I’d do the unthinkable!”

“Yeah, that’s what I just said.” Cannon knew it, 100 percent. He trusted Armie without reservation.

“So...what?” Expression fierce, Armie barked, “Make sense, damn it.”

“All right.” If he was right, they had a very big problem on their hands. “I don’t think Heath was here last night. I think it was Mindi.”

Both Yvette and Armie gaped at him.

“I know it sounds nuts, but hear me out.” Leaning forward, elbows on the table, Cannon detailed his suspicions, filling Armie in on everything that had happened. “She’s been on me hot and heavy, unreasonably so.”

“True,” Yvette agreed. “But I figured she just wanted you like everyone else does.”

Armie had to rub away his smile over that.

“I was really confused when she went after Armie the other night.”

“I was relieved,” Cannon told her. “Until I found out she wasn’t with him after all.”

“Agreeing to go home with me meant she wasn’t all that dead set on having you,” Armie mused aloud. “No broad is that dense to think you’d take second serve.”

“Eww.” Yvette scowled at him.

“Not directly second,” Armie told her with a laugh. “I meant that Cannon doesn’t take other men’s leavings. If I’d laid hands on her, he never would.”

“Enough on Cannon’s nitpicky ways,” she announced, then turned to Cannon. “So you assumed she was with Armie last night?”

“Yeah, so I never considered her. But maybe when it all went down, she saw her opportunity, knowing we’d be tied up for a while.” He nodded at Armie’s phone. “I don’t suppose that was her texting you?”

“No, just the promoter. They’re going to run the show tournament-style.”

Yvette didn’t understand, so Cannon explained, “He’ll fight more than once.”

“Long as I keep winning,” Armie clarified.

“Like I said. You’ll fight more than once.” He knew Armie’s ability, even if Armie chose to downplay it. “It’s done like a wrestling tournament. Winners keep advancing.”

Fascinated, Yvette started to ask more questions, but Armie shook that off.

“Just because Mindi wasn’t with me last night doesn’t mean she ran over here to wreak havoc on your windows.”

“No. But I picked up her scent.”

Yvette lifted her brows.

Armie guffawed. “Since when are you a bloodhound?”

“Since never. But she wears that damned overpowering perfume.”

Yvette slanted him a look. “I think it’s actually expensive stuff.”

“Whatever. I don’t like it.” He’d take Yvette’s own personal fragrance any day. But thinking about that, about her skin and hair and arousal, would get him in trouble. “I especially dislike how she wears it so thick. Right after I noticed the broken window in the garage, I smelled it, but it didn’t register. I was so set on thinking it was Heath that I totally missed the significance.”

Yvette suddenly perked up. “Remember when she dropped by? She was awfully nosy about what we had in the boxes.”

“I know.” Cannon held out his hand, pleased when she put hers in it. Touching her seemed to be a requisite of every circumstance. “I think your grandfather might have had something of hers—maybe something pawned—and she’s hoping to get it back.”

“The illegal way?” Yvette frowned. “Why not just ask us?”

“Good question,” Armie said. He stood. “I know you two were planning to do the nasty and all that—”

“Armie!”

“—but what do you say we take another look at that safe first?”