“Annoying you, apparently. But that’s just a side benefit. Flynn home?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, but stepped away from her and headed for the living room. Moe roused himself, sent out a halfhearted growl.

“That’s it, Moe,” Dana said cheerfully. “Sic ’im.”

Obviously unconcerned about being attacked by an enormous mass of canine, Jordan crouched down. “So this is the famous Moe.”

Veterinary trauma forgotten, Moe scrambled up. He charged, flopped both front paws on Jordan’s shoulders, and gave him a welcoming kiss.

Dana could only grind her teeth as Jordan’s laugh joined Moe’s happy bark.

“You’re a big guy, aren’t you? Look at that face.” He rumpled Moe’s fur, scratched his ears, then glanced over at Flynn. “How’s it going?”

“Okay. Didn’t know you were coming so soon.”

“Had some time. Got a beer?”

“Sure.”

“I hate to interrupt this emotional, heartfelt reunion.” Dana’s voice was an ice pick aimed at the nape of Jordan’s neck. “But what the hell’s he doing here?”

“Spending some time with friends, in my hometown.” Jordan got to his feet. “Still okay to bunk here?”

“Absolutely.” Flynn unfolded himself from the couch. “Man, it’s good to see you.”

“Same here. Big house. Great dog. Bad couch.”

With a laugh, Flynn swung his arms around his oldest friend. “Really good to see you.”

For a moment, just an instant, as she watched the two grown men hug, Dana’s heart softened. Whatever else she could say about Jordan Hawke—and the list was long—he was and had always been Flynn’s. As much brother, she supposed, as friend.

Then those hot blue eyes met hers and baked her heart hard again.

“How about that beer, Stretch? We can play catch-up and you can tell me how you got roped into looking for imaginary keys.”

She shot her brother one accusatory look, then jerked her chin up. “Unlike the two of you, I actually have things to do.”

“Don’t you want to see the painting?”

That nearly stopped her, but giving in to curiosity would’ve spoiled her exit. She continued to the door and strode out without a backward glance.

She had things to do, all right. The first of which was to carve a wax doll in Jordan’s image and stick pins in sensitive areas.

“Did you have to piss her off?” Flynn demanded.

“My breathing pisses her off.” And knowing that put a little hole in his gut. “How come she’s not living here? The house is big enough.”

“She won’t.” With a shrug, Flynn led the way back to the kitchen. “Wants her own space and blah-blah. You know Dana. Once her mind’s set you can’t move her with a forklift.”

“Tell me about it.”

Because Moe was dancing around, Flynn dug out a dog biscuit and flipped it to him before getting the beers. “You brought the painting?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what it’s going to tell you.”

“Me either. I’m hoping it tells Malory something.”

“So when am I going to meet this Malory?” Jordan leaned back against the counter.