Remi looked at Ian instead of him and beamed. “You hear that, Chief Technology Officer? You’re impressive.”

“Hey, Mom. Does this mean I can have a brownie explosion for dessert?” Ian asked, looking hopeful.

“I can’t come up with a good reason to say no,” Kimber admitted.

Ian celebrated by pumping his fist and then digging back in to his dinner of pancakes.

“I think if we spend all of next week testing it, we could be ready to roll it out the week after,” Remi announced.

“Chief’s gonna love this,” Carlos predicted, flashing a grin in Brick’s direction that made him want to punch the man in the face.

“On that note,” Remi said. “I’m heading out.”

“I’ve gotta go, too. You want a ride home?” Carlos volunteered.

“That would be great. Thanks,” she said, showering the jackass with unnecessary and excessive attention.

“I’ll go warm up the sled,” he said, pushing his chair back.

Remi high-fived her nephew. “See you guys around,” she said. He was presumably included in the “you guys” even though she only looked at her sister when she said it.

Brick caught her at the door, where she was sliding her arms into her coat.

“Can we talk?”

“Maybe some other time,” she said with a perfunctory smile that was a goddamn sucker punch to the gut.

Their tech officer was already heading out the door with his mother.

“It’s about Camille.”

That earned her attention. His entire body lit up when those green eyes finally landed on him.

“What about her?” she asked. There was a note in her voice that worried him. Something that hinted of fear. The front door opened, and a family of four wandered in, bringing an icy gust of wind with them.

He nudged her into the alcove near the restrooms so they were out of the cold and away from any prying eyes. People were used to them being close, being places together. But this time, Brick didn’t trust himself to maintain that respectful distance that reassured everyone he wasn’t interested in Remi Ford.

“I made some calls,” he said.

“To who?”

She looked so stricken he took her by the shoulders. “To a cop friend I met at a LEO conference a few years ago. He works in a precinct in Chicago. He got me an update on your friend.”

“What—what did he say?” she asked. Her muscles felt like concrete beneath his hands, and he gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze.

“He couldn’t get me much. But she’s okay. She had surgery for a collapsed lung and broken ribs. Things were touch and go for a while. But they’re expecting her to go home soon.”

“Home?” Remi repeated.

He nodded. “I’m sure you’ll hear from her once she’s recovering in her own bed.”

“Did you mention my name to your friend?” she asked, bringing shaking fingers to her lips.

“No. He didn’t get the information directly either. So there’s no connection to you.”

She blew out a breath, then nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Thanks.”