18
Two days later an urgent knock on my door had me rushing over, only to see Lucas behind it. He wore casual clothes, but he looked worse for the wear, a grim twist to his full mouth.
"Lucas? Everything okay?"
"Can I come in?"
"Of course," I held open the door and let him inside. "Coffee?" It was still morning and I was in sweats and a tank.
"Please."
I poured him a quick mug and handed it to him. "Have a seat," I said and sank into my old recliner.
"It's Marissa. I have a feeling she's being closed in on. I need to move her as soon as possible, and I still haven't found a location."
I blinked at him. "I was born and raised in this town. I don't know where she could be moved where someone won't find her. I honestly think you've been pretty lucky she hasn't been found already."
His expression grew even grimmer. "That's the problem. I think she has. And I think the people who found her are merely biding their time."
"Shit," I muttered.
"Definitely."
"Were you followed?" I asked.
He shook his head. "No. I took precautions."
"What about using a trust to buy a plot of land?"
"I did that with the last place and I think it was uncovered. Someone is tracking my movements." He shifted in his seat. "What about you?"
My brow furrowed. "What about me?"
"If I gave you the money would you be able to purchase a property through trust?"
Okay. How had this escalated so quickly? "I'm already linked to you. I'm surprised they're not tracing me too." I wasn't quite sure if that was true, but it seemed like the most logical scenario. I thought about it some more while we sat there in silence. "The Comey's. You should ask them."
He let out a bark of laughter. "Morgana told me if she ever saw me in her shop again she'd incinerate me with lightning."
She probably would. I blew out a slow breath. "Okay. Then I'll ask them."
His expression grew thoughtful. "It could work."
"Of course it could. I thought of it."
"So humble."
I grinned at him and his eyes went molten. The smile slid off my face but we didn't break eye contact. "When this is all over, Grace Banner, you and I are going to be sweaty."
I swallowed hard. "I don't like to run," I whispered.
His eyes widened and a bark of laughter escaped him. "That wasn't what I had in mind, but chasing you seems like it would be good to get the heart pumping and the blood flowing." His gaze flickered to my neck.
"You are a naughty man, Mr. Marsh. I'm not quite sure we're there yet."
He leaned forward. "I am a very patient man."
I practically had to shove him out of my door in order to keep from jumping his bones. Things with us were heating up. And not in a race to the altar. More like a race to the first flat semi-comfortable surface.
