Charli lost her ability to speak for a moment. And the first words that jumped to her lips were holy shit, but luckily she managed to choke those down. She gripped the bedpost, the reporter inside her jumping up and twirling. “On the record?”
“Yes. This whole thing is getting out of hand and needs to stop. They’re trying to buy my silence now. I’ve sent my wife and kids to stay with her family for a few weeks. These assholes need to be outed. I can name names for you and give you some documents that may help.”
“Pick the time and place. I’ll be there,” she said, searching the drawer in the bedside table for a pen.
“How about tomorrow morning around eight? You know where the Southern Pancake Hut is?”
“Yep. Perfect.” She jotted down the time and place on the back of a napkin. “Thanks so much, Rodney.”
“And, Ms. Beaumonde, watch your back. There are lots of powerful people who have their hands in this.”
The warning sent a dart of anxiety down her spine, but not enough to outweigh the excitement of knowing she was finally going to get the truth and break this story. “Thank you. I’ll be careful.”
She ended the call and did a little spin for real this time, her dress swirling around her. This was it. Not only would she be able to expose some nasty cheaters, but she’d prove that she was capable of handling a big story.
With a smile on her face, she hurried to the bathroom to finish getting ready. A few days and she’d be able to go back to her normal life. No more worrying about someone trying to hurt her. No more hiding out.
And no more Grant.
Her smile faltered in the mirror.
Grant stared down at the scalloped-edge invitation he’d discovered in his mailbox. He read the words again, each sentence settling in his gut like heavy boulders.
Georgia Eleanor Waters and Barry Sparks request your presence at their wedding…
Grant sank onto one of his barstools, the combating emotions too much to process standing up. His mom was getting married again? To someone who wasn’t his father. The notion seemed too preposterous to even comprehend.
And who the fuck was this Barry guy?
Did he treat his mother well? Did he make her happy? Did he have a job or was he just after the family’s fortune?
You wouldn’t know, asshole, his conscience whispered at him. You never go home.
Grant’s front door swung open, banging the wall and startling him from his thoughts. “What the hell?”
Charli burst through the doorway like a cyclone, all smiles and flushed cheeks. “Oops, sorry, the wind took the door right from my hand.”
She pranced inside and pushed the door closed behind her, her red mane whipping around in one final gust. She spun back around, a wide grin still on her face.
Fuck, she was gorgeous. The outfit he’d chosen for her looked even better hugging her body than he’d imagined. And knowing what she had on underneath had him almost forgetting what he was so upset about a moment before. He glanced at the clock over the fireplace. “You’re early, freckles.”
“I know,” she said, a bit breathless. “But I couldn’t wait to tell you my good news.”
“Oh?”
“The guy I tried to get information from that day someone broke into the car is now ready to talk—on the record. He said he can name names in the cheating scandal.” The words spilled out of her like a river overflowing its banks as she made her way across the living room toward the kitchen. “He’s going to meet with me tomorrow morning. Isn’t that great? I’m going to get my story.”
Her excitement was contagious, and Grant couldn’t help but return her smile. He tossed the invitation and accompanying note onto the counter and pulled her close when she reached him, caging her between his thighs. “That’s awesome, darlin’. Congratulations.”
Without warning, she wrapped her arms around him in an enthusiastic hug, almost knocking him off the stool. He closed his eyes, absorbing the scent of her shampoo and the feel of her body against his, a thread of regret knitting through him. If she landed her story, this would be one of the last nights she’d be here with him.
She pulled back from the hug but remained standing between his knees. “So I thought maybe tonight, I should stay at my house instead of coming back here. I have to meet him early, and it doesn’t make sense to come all the way back out this way.”
Grant frowned. “I’m not leaving you unprotected, Charlotte. Even for one night.”
The little shiver she gave at the use of her full name, her sub name, brought Grant more pleasure than it should’ve. She shrugged. “So stay there with me.”
The suggestion was a simple one on its surface, but the idea of sleeping next to her in her own house had tension gathering in his shoulders. He didn’t sleep with anyone. And his nightmares wouldn’t care if he was alone or otherwise. They’d come anyway. He rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen some of the tightness. There was always the couch, and he could pull an all-nighter, keeping guard. God knows he’d pulled enough of them in his military career.