She spun again, squinting to see the source. Someone had definitely ducked behind that oak on the corner.
Her heart stopped, then lunged back against her chest as she peered harder into the foliage. A person. Aman.
She gasped. The man with the fedora.
From the library.
Now walking straight toward her.
* * *
Cade leaned back in his office chair, grateful that Rosalyn had gone to the library for him because, A—Mrs. Peters’s demand that he have a printed schedule of the Friends of the Library booth was a ridiculous waste of time, and mostly B—it gave him a chance to finish the sleuthing he’d started and not been able to finish yet on Rosalyn’s situation.
Keeping one eye on the door for her return, he tapped a few more keys, pulling up a third browser tab and waiting as the icon spun. A small tower of books he’d brought back from Yale were stacked, the top one flipped open, next to his pencil cup and a half-eaten bag of Doritos. His computer hummed.Come on, load.
With every spin, his confidence sank. This was a long shot. He’d failed the bar—what business did he have thinking he’d find a needle in a legal haystack?
He’d already called and sweet-talked Liz over at the courthouse to give him access to the digital files, normally only available via an account and monthly fee. No one had time for that. So he’d played the mayor’s son card he despised yet kept up his sleeve for a time such as this.
Because Rosalyn was worth it.
That access led him to a few dead-ends and more eye-spiraling technical jargon than he’d read in years but eventually proved what he’d thought he’d remembered about marriage license clauses from law school.
He hit a few more keys.
Aha. Further proof filled his monitor.
Cade pulled back up the second tab he’d saved and re-read the fine print. Hope filled his chest—which was silly. This changed nothing between him and Rosalyn, necessarily.
But it could change a lot for her.
He stared at the blinking cursor and frowned, tapping one finger against the mouse. One problem remained.
He had to tell her.
Which meant he had to admit to doing exactly what she’d asked himnotto do.
Cade stood abruptly, pocketed his keys, and headed to the office foyer. A rush of cool AC blasted him in the hall. Maybe he could start walking and meet Rosalyn on her way back from the library. Try along the way to figure out the right words to let her know the good news.
His heart thudded. “I’ll be back, Pearl.” He waved at his secretary, who quickly exited her solitaire game.
“I’ll hold down the fort.” Pearl offered a salute. “Feel free to bring back some Bayou Beignets.”
Those did sound good. Cade rode the elevator down to the first floor. The door chimed and opened, and he stepped out as a blonde figure burst inside.
They collided hard.
He steadied the woman bouncing off his chest, grabbing her arms to keep them upright. The scent of citrus filled his nose.
Rosalyn.
“Ace—what are you doing?” He cupped her cheek, scanning her face for injuries. “Are you okay?”
Crimson flushed both cheeks. Her chest heaved as if she’d been running. “I don’t know.” Panic lingered in her eyes as she struggled out of his grip and turned around, looking behind her.
His arm automatically wrapped around her, protecting her, and he tugged her out of the way of the elevator. “What happened?” He looked over her head and skimmed the lobby, empty except for three potted ferns and a tired coffee pot gurgling next to a sleeve of Styrofoam cups.
Not a threat in sight.
