“Personal matters aside, you were the best choice by far. But, yes, there’s no one else I would trust with this.”
He nods, looking down at his hands. “At Lucky’s, you seemed pretty bent about me getting the contract. I have to be honest. I’m confused at this point. But then, you also seemed to have an audience.”
I nod. I knew nothing would get by him. “I have no clue how deep the criminal infiltration of my employees runs or who’s listening to what. Honestly, I had the impression somebody eavesdropped on us in the alley Friday night. Or at least tried to. I kept seeing a shadowy form but couldn’t make out the person. So around the museum staff, I think it’s best if we act like we only begrudgingly get along.”
Understanding lights his face.
“Begrudgingly get along” hasn’t been too far from thetruth for nearly a year now. Even before Wolfe left for the UAE, all we did was fight. He often spent nights at Flynn’s cabin, making the estrangement feel real long before I took the step to move out with the kids and get my own place.
I continue, “We need it to look like I oppose you working here. At least on some level.” I sit back, watching his unreadable face.
He nods in response, catching my eyes in another heated gaze that makes my pulse pound.
I shake my head, looking down and trying to clear my thoughts. Why is he still so capable of making me feel this way? I clear my throat. “By the way, I’m sorry, in advance, for getting you involved in this.” A swirl of guilt sours my stomach. If I had more scruples, I wouldn’t drag him into this. But I’m desperate and out of options.
He twirls the band on his left hand, replying, “I’ll never let you down. But I’m still confused by your official story. Do we secretly love each other? Openly hate each other? I just need to know how to proceed with stuff like heavy petting in museum parking lots.”
My lower core tightens, and my cheeks darken.Damn him, and damn the gorgeous grin that momentarily captures his face.I shrug, trying to look as calm and polished as he does.
“We’re your typical estranged couple. Preferring to keep our interactions brief, to the point, and professional. I’m certain those involved in whatever’s going on are counting on a general lack of communication and trust between us.”While sexual longing burns me alive.I keep the last part to myself. “I’ll review your recommendations, and we’ll go from there. Let me know what you think after your review.”
“Of course,” he stands up, and I do the same. I take the hand he offers me, feeling the thrill of his touch as I always do. Will flesh-to-flesh contact ever become easier with him? With his other hand, he pats the place on his chest where he took abullet for me so many years ago. It’s how he used to let me know he has my back. I nod in recognition, fighting the tears forming in my eyes.
How did things ever get to this point? There’s nothing I want more than for him to pull me into his arms and hold me. He was always my strong fortress against the world. As much as I long for him to claim my body and do a million filthy things to me, I miss the safety and security of his arms even more.
“I’ll be in touch.” Still holding my hand, he momentarily covers it with his other before letting go. I immediately miss the warmth and security of his flesh against mine. “Brief, to the point, and professional it is.” He grabs the pile of evidence from my desk and puts it in his briefcase. Looking up, he adds, “Oatmeal. Stasia wanted me to request you have oatmeal for breakfast at your house tomorrow.” Placing his brown cowboy hat on his head, he winks, walking out the door and closing it behind him without a glance back.
I stand there, disappointed and overheated. I don’t know what I was expecting. But he’s walking away from me again. I hate it. I also resent how he can act so calm and pulled together while I incinerate.
He’s got me tied in so many knots that I can’t think straight. I take a deep breath, attempting to calm my erratic pulse. Nobody on this planet affects me like him. Where once it thrilled me, now it flusters and frustrates me.I’ve got to pull it together.
Chapter Seven
WOLFE
Iset down the papers, my head swimming. Izzie’s always been good at finding trouble—me included—but this takes the cake.
I’ve spent the last three hours pouring over museum artifact records. At first, I wondered why she had me looking at these, but a closer examination of descriptions soon revealed a startling and complicated operation. Somebody’s using the museum as a shield to launder artifacts.
Even more alarming is a warning message typed into the comments section of PastRecord that Izzie highlighted in yellow. “Snoopers end up in stupors.” I’ll kill the motherfucker who harms one solitary hair on my wife’s head.
My eyes still swim with accession and deaccession numbers, forged provenance, auction records, and incriminating photos. All I know for sure is this involves multiple people accessing the museum’s artifact record-keeping system, PastRecord.
As much as I hoped to infiltrate the statewide museum system and get the inside scoop on the fraud and corruption within, I never thought Ophir City would be such a hotbed ofactivity. It’s mind-boggling. But a small-town museum with poor funding and few protocols represents the ultimate low-hanging fruit for enterprising criminals. I now understand what she meant about not letting her get stoned. Hell, we could both end up stoned if this goes the wrong way.
I text her: “Meet at Trav’s place at noon?”
I’ve stopped by the cabin to watch Travis and Faith’s new baby, Ryder, while they head to the grocery store in Ophir City to get a few things. It’s been a while since I was around a newborn, and it brings back many bittersweet memories. When my own kids were this age, I missed out on far too much with them. I know that now, but it’s too late. I can only try to move forward and ensure it doesn’t happen again.
My phone vibrates, and I see her one-word answer: “Yes.”
This has to be a safer location than meeting at a restaurant or even one of our houses. Besides, Ryder’s her nephew, so she has an easy excuse for stopping by.
Thirty minutes later, I hear a knock at the cabin door, and I stand up, crossing the small rustic living room in a few strides to answer. I move slowly and quietly to keep baby Ryder asleep. She stands at the door with a smile, whispering, “Hi.” She gets the need for quiet even before entering the house.
“Can I see the little guy?” she asks almost inaudibly, and I lead her back to the mint-green-colored nursery, where she admires her tiny, downy-haired sleeping nephew with love-filled eyes. What I wouldn’t give to see those directed at me. It’s been forever. “He looks just like Travis. Oh my gosh!” She mouths, shaking her head.
While she admires him, I appraise her. The tight skirt she wears emphasizes her thick thighs and generous hips, inspiring an immediate half-chub. And her button-down sweater has tiny pearl buttons down the front that I long to unfasten with my teeth before slipping up her camisole and reminding her why she likes my filthy mouth. Fuck! I haveto take a step back to calm myself. Thankfully, she’s so caught up staring at the tranquil baby that she doesn’t notice.
