“He’s in town—”
“Just like a lot of your exes…”
“—and he’s a liar—”
“Which has nothing to do with your wife…”
“—and he and my wife met this Monday.”
Ryder stops. “They did?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ask her about it?”
“We sort of talked, but I don’t have a good feeling about it. There’s something there.” I tell him about the envelope with photos and the cryptic message.
“Paddington is certainly the man for the job if you want to get to the bottom of it, but don’t you wonder who sent the envelope in the first place?”
“I do. The concierge said it was some white guy in a suit. Nothing special…” Then I blink as another thought strikes me. “Which now that I think about it is the same description I got for the man who sent me the cake with my wife in it.”
“Whoa. You think it’s the same guy? You said the cake was probably a mix-up.”
“I don’t know what to think. Average looking white guys are a dime a dozen, right?” Even as I say it, my gut tightens.
“So…a coincidence?”
I shake my head slowly. “No. I’ve got a feeling. Someone’s trying to fuck with me.”
Chapter Fourteen
Annabelle
I’m bubbling with excitement by the time Elliot picks me up from the café a couple of hours later. My cheeks are warm, and my dress swirls around me like melted chocolate. It’s all I can do not to grab Elliot and kiss him the moment I climb into the car. The interior of the powerful, luxurious Maserati smells like him—that clean, male scent, which makes my skin prickle with sharp awareness.
“What’s got you so excited?” he asks as he deftly maneuvers the Maserati through the L.A. traffic. It moves like molasses, the cars around us shimmering in the heat, and a small scowl scrunches his face. “Keep looking at me like that, and I’m going to want to go fast.”
I tilt my head, absorbing the delicious presence of him. He’s in a pale gray cotton t-shirt that molds to his torso, outlining his shoulders and pecs. The faded jeans hug his hips and thighs, and I flush as I remember how I gripped his ass last night.
“Or just check into the first hotel I see and fuck you until you scream my name over and over again.”
This time my cheeks warm with carnal need. “You’re such a sex addict.” The mild reprimand is ruined by the breathlessness of my voice.
“We have to make up for the morning,” he says, totally unrepentant.
“I’m sure we’ll make up for it in St. Cecilia.”
“Different time zone. Doesn’t count.” A small smile tugs at his mouth.
He makes a few deft turns, and the traffic flow becomes better. We should be home in no time at all.
“So. How’d your meeting with Traci go?” he asks. “You guys still cool?”
“Pretty much. It was amazing to reconnect with her. I didn’t realize until now just how much I missed my friendship with her.”
“Well, great. I’m happy for you.” He smiles.
I grin back at him. “I’m happy, too. She’s doing well, which is always good. She finished school last year. It’s making me more determined than ever to get my degree.”