“Rotten timing,” I mutter, even though the scent of garlic wafts from the house and makes my stomach rumble.

Carly turns to me. “Are you hungry?”

“Not for food,” I say.

She smiles, and damn, she’s beautiful.

“I’m not sure I should join your brothers at the table wearing only this.” She looks down at the T-shirt that hits her just above her knees.

“I don’t like the idea of any man seeing you like this, but you’re completely covered, and you look amazing. I promised your dad I’d take care of you, and that means feeding you.”

“Believe it or not, I actually feel like I could eat. I haven’t had anything since breakfast.”

I’m not surprised. Once they found that body, the sheriff kept her and Lexie busy all day. Besides, a dead body can turn anyone off the idea of eating.

“Let’s go then.” I open the door for her.

Chance and Miles are seated in the kitchen’s breakfast nook, so Carly and I join them.

I inhale. Smells great, kind of like ginger. “What’s on the menu?”

Chance takes a sip from his beer bottle. “Pork stir fry. One of my favorites. Sit on down, both of you. There’s plenty.”

“What do you want to drink?” I ask Carly.

“Just ice water, please.”

I take our two glasses from the already-set table and fill them with ice and water from the fridge. Meals are casual here, even though the housekeeper prepares them for us. We serve ourselves, which is fine with me.

“How are you feeling, Carly?” Miles asks.

“I’m okay.” She takes the plate Chance has filled for her with food. “But I’ll be going home tonight.”

“This bum kicking you out?” Chance glances at me as I sit down, setting our glasses by our plates.

I give him a stink eye. “Of course not.”

“I’m joking, asswipe. Damn.”

“It was kind of a mutual decision,” Carly says, maybe to keep us from bickering. “I have to work things out with my dad.”

Chance nods. “That reminds me. Miles and I were talking earlier, and I’m sure Austin will agree. We’d like to quitclaim your land back to your mom and dad.”

“What’s that?” Carly asks.

“A change of name on a property deed. In this case, giving your land back to your parents. A legal handoff.”

“Can we do that?” I ask. I don’t know much about the logistics and legalities of property.

Chance nods. “Yeah. I got on the horn with Shankle and he says it’s an easy transaction, though he did try to talk me out of it.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because he was our father’s attorney long before he was ours, and that bastard never would have transferred a damned piece of lint without some kind of consideration. Proof of him being shady by taking the Vance’s land in the first place. But I made it clear that we’d be doing this one way or another. I figured we’d have to wait a year until the money’s ours to give the portion that was shafted, but Shankle says we can do the paperwork portion now if we want to.”