Page 24 of Not-So Real Breakup
I took one step forward and fisted my hand in her T-shirt, yanking her against me and causing us to stumble back into the house. “You shouldn’t be here. But fuck, I missed you, baby.” My mouth slammed down onto hers, and I kicked the front door shut before backing my girl up against the wall.
She let out a little moan, and my whole body lit up like the Fourth of July. I was about to scoop her into my arms and carry her back to our bedroom when she let out an adorable little growl and pushed against my chest.
“Stop distracting me with your stupid magical kisses and sexy body!” I smirked, but it swiftly vanished when she cried, “I want to know why you broke my heart.”
The heavy weight that had been sitting on my chest ever since I left her had lifted the moment I saw her. But her question set it right back, making it hard to breathe without pain. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby,” I apologized, unable to keep the agony out of my voice. “Hurting you nearly killed me. But I would rather die than put you in danger.”
“We’ll come back to why you made the stupid decision to keep me in the dark. Explain how I was in danger.”
I blew out a frustrated breath and ran my hands through my hair. “Do you remember those texts? The stalker?”
Samantha nodded and folded her arms over her chest, watching me warily.
“I didn’t want to scare you, so I didn’t tell you that eventually, they started threatening you.”
The whole story poured out, and Samantha listened without comment until I finished. “So we set up a trap for her.”
She tapped her fingers on her arms as she contemplated everything I’d told her.
“Did it at least work?” she asked suddenly.
Before I could answer, the doorbell rang, and I grimaced. “We don’t know yet,” I confessed as I opened the door to three men in dark suits and sunglasses.
The tall, dark-haired man in the front removed his glasses and stuck them in his breast pocket. “Ready to go?” he asked. Then his eyes strayed over my shoulder, and he raised an eyebrow. “Samantha, I presume?”
I exhaled in frustration and stepped back to allow the men to enter. “Baby, this is Tucker Carrington,” I introduced him. “Tucker, Samantha.”
Tucker nodded in greeting. “I mean no offense, Samantha,” he grunted, then looked at me. “But what is she doing here? If Cheryl sees her—”
“I know,” I interrupted harshly. “She figured it out and came here to bust me for being a fucking asshole, and rightfully so.”
“Sheis right here,” Samantha chimed in, clearly exasperated. “Now, will someone fill me in, please?” Her sugary tone was laced with steel. Not only was I proud of her for being a badass but my cock hardened to stone.
“No time to explain right now,” muttered Tucker. “We need to go.”
Samantha put her hands on her hips and lifted her chin stubbornly. “Not without me.”
Tucker rolled his eyes, but the corners of his lips tipped up. “She reminds me of Eva,” he grunted, referring to his wife. “She can ride with me. I’ll be staying out of sight anyway.” He gestured to the men with him. “Phin and Donovan will shadow you until the time is right.”
I turned and closed the distance between me and Samantha, wrapping her in my arms. “Let’s get this shit done and over with,” I murmured. “Then you can yell at me as much as you want before I take you to bed and fuck you until we both pass out.”
Samantha’s blue orbs darkened, and she licked her lips, making me groan and drop my face into the crook of her neck.
After inhaling her mouthwatering scent for a moment, I straightened and took her hand, leading her to my garage. “I’ll leave first,” I told her. “Then you follow with Tucker. If she’d seen you arrive, it’s likely she would have messaged me already.”
“Time to get going, Bardot,” Tucker announced. “I’ll fill her in on the rest.”
I kissed my woman fast but deep, a promise of things to come, then got into my car and headed back to the city.
The plane ticket we’d found had been a lucky break, but we still hadn’t come up with any verifiable proof that she was stalking me and threatening Samantha. So we devised a plan. Rather than responding to the messages, I reached out to her as if I had no clue she was behind the texts. Playing to her ego.
I’d told her I’d rethought things and convinced Landon to hire her back. I insinuated that the project had gone to shit after she left, and I needed her. She’d been receptive to my ruse and agreed to meet with me at my office to get her rehire paperwork straightened out and go over solutions for the project. Then I’d dropped subtle hints about going to dinner afterward.
The goal was to convince her to confess to the stalking so I could get a restraining order at the very least. However, as unhinged as she seemed, I hoped she’d admit to conspiracy to commit murder.
When I arrived at JB Capital, I parked in my spot and rode the elevator up to my floor. A few minutes later, Phin and Donovan came in from the stairwell and disappeared into the shadows. Then I paced inside my office until the lift dinged. I sat behind my desk and pretended to look busy until Cheryl came sashaying into the room.
I almost rolled my eyes when I got a good look at her getup. She was wearing a pencil skirt with a slit that went all the way up to her pelvis, a silky button-up blouse, stilettos, and she’d fashioned her suddenly blond hair into a neat little bun.