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Isaac pursed his lips. “I’m surprised you can still plot over that after being distracted byRileytoday.”

“Plotting? Who’s plotting? I’m just asking.” Dalton leaned on the edge of the table. “And we had lunch, Dad. That’s it. Riley’s cute. Wicked smart. I might see him again. You know, getting out, dating, letting people get to know you, can all be good things.”

Isaac’s eyes fell to the table.

“Wait, itisAndrew that’s bothering you?”

“No,” Isaac snapped. But then, he had to admit, “Somewhat. It’s this family dinner. You realize Andrew’s brother only wants to prove to himself and to Andrew that I’m no good.”

“Maybe,” Dalton said, “but that’s why I’ll be there to help show off to everyone how amazing you are. Ooo, we should bring dessert!” he brightened as though his current grungy surroundings could never stifle him. “You can make those brownies we had at Kathleen’s birthday.”

The contentment that fluttered in Isaac’s chest might be happiness, fulfillment,enough, but it was all so domestic, he was bound to screw it up.

“Dad? What’s wrong? Really?”

The words caught in Isaac’s throat, but he knew Dalton wouldn’t leave things alone. After months of back and forth in moments like this, he’d learned that occasionally he had to give in. He just wished he had something less melancholy to say than, “I’m sorry this isn’t a home.”

“What?” Dalton reared back. “What do you mean?”

“This is an old hideaway for criminals. It isn’t a home. Not a real one.”

“Home isn’t a place, Dad.”

“It should be. Everyone deserves a safe place to return to.”

“I thought thatwasa safe house?” Dalton grinned.

He was too sweet, too good for Isaac. Isaac wanted to offer him something better. “What if, after all this is over, I get a real apartment?”

“Is that something you want?” Dalton asked. “Don’t do it for me. I don’t need… I don’t even know what to say, rent control? This is fine, Dad. Really.”

“Hey!” Luke called, peeking his head out from beneath the car. “You going to take all night getting those beers? We got a crankshaft to place.”

“Coming!” Dalton called back, never discouraged by Luke’s surly disposition. Then he turned to Isaac with understanding and… love. “Whatever you want, Dad, as long as you’re happy. You get that’s all I want, right?”

Isaac nodded mechanically, feeling his throat tighten like he might choke up, because he wasn’t used to anyone feeling that way about him and saying it so freely, but Dalton always made him feel so much.

Smiling broadly back at him, Dalton snatched up the beer bottles, but before he left, he pressed a quick kiss to Isaac’s temple.

Heat prickled Isaac’s eyes, making him glad Dalton moved behind him and couldn’t see. He’d gotten a good life from his mother, but he’d missed out on having a dad, and Isaac had missed out on having any kind of normal family interactions, so he was going to make up for that, even if it meant having dinner with a family of detectives and their friends that hated him.

First, he had to complete a fake heist with his fake ex without falling any further down the rabbit hole that he was afraid he’d never be able to climb out of.

Chapter 8

ANDREW

Daltonwassupposedtobe the one doing all the plotting, pushing them into awkward situations or making up excuses to get them alone. But somewhere along the way, that had fallen aside, and everyone else started playing their part too—even Steven, however unintentionally, by suggesting dinner.

And Andrew himself. After all, he had no one else to blame for picking up coffee for him and Ford for the second time in two weeks.

It was mid-afternoon, not the morning coffee rush, so the place wasn’t packed. Some afternoon caffeine seemed like the perfect way to break the ice for his upcoming B&E.

Andrew snickered as he waited for his order. He was not excited—well, just a little. Ford did mock burglaries all the time, it was his tried and true method having been a thief, but Andrew never went that far with a client. He did inspections and made recommendations. If this worked well for him, maybe he’d give it a try more often.

Besides, he refused to believe Candace’s warnings that there was some looming betrayal or elaborate tricks planned, not with Dalton involved. He wanted to enjoy himself and follow Ford’s orders to the letter.

He liked following Ford’s orders.