Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 173733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
I flip through the file and see many shots of the Ward house, as well as shots of the couple this morning. They were fighting, all right. “Royce is on his way back already,” Lauren says as she returns. “Reese just got on a plane with Blake and Kara. One way or another, Reese will have his man back here by early tomorrow.”
“Unless he had a new identity waiting on him in Vermont and he and his wife have now left the country.”
“Unfortunately, we don’t have men on the ground in Vermont, so we can’t stop them without alerting the police. And that would be best avoided. Did you look at those photos? The two of them fighting and her leaving—it all reads to me like manipulation. Like she wanted to make him break his travel rules, which implies he’s running from his guilt.”
“Or she was trying to convince him not to run,” I say. “Or she could have found out that he really did it, and she left him.”
“You think he did it?”
“No,” I say. “I think she did it, too, but I’m playing devil’s advocate. And I hope like hell he’s innocent. Reese won’t just take a hit to his reputation. He’ll start to question his instincts.”
“Spoken like a woman who has seen inside his mind,” she says. “What’s happening with you two?”
“I don’t know yet,” I answer honestly. “But it feels kind of wonderful.”
“So you like him.”
“He’s nothing that I expected and different from anything I’ve ever known.”
She narrows her eyes on me. “You just walked around that question.”
“It wasn’t a question. It was a statement: So you like him. That’s a statement. But yes. I like him, but it’s new. Don’t go marrying me off just yet.”
“Just yet. That’s an open door, so I’ll take that answer. Just don’t let Mitch’s actions get in front of you with Reese, Cat.”
“I’m not doing that.”
“Reese trusts you or he wouldn’t have you helping with this case. Trust him, too. And before you say anything, let me add this. I know it’s scary, but if you don’t take the risk, you will never know what might have been.”
“I do. I trust Reese. And I’m a bit stunned by how much I mean those words.”
Lauren swallows hard. “Oh God.”
“What? What is it?”
“It’s happening again,” she says, covering her face. “Make this stop.”
I go down on my knee beside her. “What can I do? Do you have crackers or soda?”
“No thank you. Those things are from the devil. They make me sick. Apparently now the ice cream does, too.”
I get her crackers, soda, and more ice cream anyway, and my efforts fail. We land in the bathroom again, and when Royce finally gets home, we are both on the floor on our backs, talking about the trial. But I don’t think Royce even knows I’m there. I stand up and he is quick to sit down on the floor and pull Lauren against him. They’re talking and he’s fretting over her, and my heart squeezes as I watch them together. They are so in love, and suddenly I’m thinking of me and Reese, reliving moments in my head with him: The coffee shop, the food-truck stops. The sex. The man knows how to get the job done, for sure. And that kiss goodbye…
I suddenly can’t breathe, and it’s already eleven o’clock anyway. I sneak to the door and leave, calling an Uber that I wait for in the parking garage. And too soon it seems, that car arrives and delivers me to the front of my building, which is not a thought I’m used to having. I like my apartment. I like being in my space. But tonight, it feels like this isn’t where I belong. Nevertheless, a few minutes later, I walk into my apartment, flip on the light, and then lock the door. Leaning against the wooden surface, I stare down the hallway, when I would be normally racing to my sanctuary tub or bed. But tonight, it just feels empty.
I blame Reese, who’s filled up my life too easily and too quickly. Reese, who I already know could hurt me, and yet the idea of walking away from him guts me. I can’t do it. It’s too late to turn back.
“Asshole,” I murmur under my breath, but I remind myself that he’s innocent until proven guilty.
He trusts you, Lauren said.
He tried to leave me at his apartment. He cleared me with security. He told me things that a member of the press would expose and knew that I would not. He does trust me, and I trust him. We’re also at that sweet spot in a relationship: Untarnished, a diamond in the rough with endless possibilities.
I push off of the door and walk across the hardwood floors, before cutting left and up the stairs to my bedroom. I’ve just flipped on the light and walked to my sleigh bed, setting my bag and purse beside it, when my phone rings. I quickly retrieve it from my purse, and there is no denying the punch of disappointment I experience to see Lauren’s number, not Reese’s. “Hey,” I say, walking toward my bathroom. “How are you?”