by Reese Ryan
Zora stopped breaking branches and eyed him. “Why don’t you fix breakfast here for both of us?”
“Because.”
“I’m not twelve, Blake. That doesn’t work anymore.” Zora propped a hand on her hip.
Blake sighed. “Okay, fine. I have company.”
Zora stepped closer. “Female company?”
Blake tried to keep his expression neutral.
“You don’t have women over to the house. Ever. Not since you broke up with Godzilla.”
“Gavrilla.” But he didn’t correct the part about him initiating the breakup. They both knew it wasn’t true, but saying it seemed to make his family feel better.
“Whatever.” She waved her hand. “This must be serious if you brought one of your out-of-town hookups home.”
“How did you—”
“I didn’t, but I always suspected that’s why you never take Daisy when you travel.” Zora looked more proud of herself than she had when her team had posted record sales numbers the previous quarter.
“Don’t you have anything better to do than to worry about who I’m sleeping with?”
“People around here talk. If they’re not talking, nothing’s happening. I haven’t heard about you hooking up with anyone around here and...well...you are a guy.”
“Zora, enough.”
He was not going to have a conversation with his sister about his sex life. Though Zora was an adult, she’d always be his baby sister.
“I can’t help it if I’m smarter than you.” She shoved him playfully.
“You’re the Jessica Fletcher of who is doing who in this town. Congratulations, Brat.” He dug up her childhood nickname. “Now, can we get back to my request?”
“Right. You need to shop my pantry.”
Zora removed her work gloves and headed toward the garage of her colonial. The place was newer than his, though a bit smaller and far more traditional-looking.
“Let’s find something you and your girlfriend can eat for breakfast.”
“Didn’t say she was my girlfriend.” Blake gritted his teeth.
Zora turned to him. “She woke up at your house, presumably in your bed. Just let that sink in for a minute.”
“I’m seriously starting to wish I’d gone to Mom and Dad’s house. Besides, they have real food. Not just crap that comes out of a box.”
“That hurts.” Zora punched his arm. “Besides, that’s no way to talk to someone you want a favor from, big brother.”
Zora opened her well-stocked fridge. She cut an egg carton in half and gave him half a dozen eggs. Then she took out a mostly full package of thick-cut maple bacon and an unopened jug of orange juice. She arranged everything in a reusable shopping bag.
“Please tell me you at least have the basics...cheese, milk, maybe an onion and some mushrooms.”
“I’m the one who actually cooks for myself,” Blake reminded her. “But I think I used my last onion making fried rice last night.”
“You cooked dinner for her, too?” Zora’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree that had just been plugged in. “After you left Mom and Dad’s last night?”
Ignoring her question, Blake accepted two sweet onions from his sister and dropped them in the bag, careful not to crack the eggs. “Thanks, Brat.”
“You’re not even going to give me a hint who I’m feeding?” She leaned one hip against the fridge.
“I don’t kiss and tell.” He hoisted the bag. “And I didn’t sleep with her.”
“Then why won’t you tell me who it is?”
“Because it’s none of your business.”
“Speaking of business...your mystery guest wouldn’t happen to be a certain not-so-Chatty-Cathy employee who you can’t seem to keep your eyes off, would it?”
Blake froze momentarily, but recovered quickly. Zora was fishing, hoping to get a reaction out of him. If he played it cool, she’d move on to another theory.
“Thanks for the food,” he called over his shoulder. “Holler if you need help with the yard.”
“Only if you’ll bring your girlfriend over.”
Blake shook his head and climbed back in his truck.
Brat.
He waved and backed out of his sister’s drive. As he headed toward home, his neck tensed in anticipation of seeing Savannah.
* * *
Savannah’s eyes fluttered open. She was floating on a warm cloud of indescribable bliss, and her entire body tingled with satisfaction. Her mouth stretched in an involuntary smile.
Last night, Blake had given her mind-blowing pleasure, and he’d done it without removing his boxers.
He’d focused on making their encounter special for her. Even if it meant denying himself.
No one had ever given her such intense pleasure or focused solely on her needs. Savannah groaned. She’d finally met a man who made her want things. Things she hadn’t allowed herself the luxury of wanting.
God, why does he have to be an Abbott?
Because apparently the universe hated her.
As she’d given in to her desire for him, she’d convinced herself she could remain detached and keep their encounter impersonal. Transactional.
But when he looked into her eyes, all she’d seen was Blake. Not his family versus hers. Not the history of their grandfathers. Nothing but him.
For a few hours, she’d allowed herself to buy into the delusion that she could have him and still get justice for her family.
But she couldn’t have both. At some point, she’d have to choose. And her allegiance was to her own family.
Savannah sighed and rolled over. Blake wasn’t in bed. She got dressed and went down to the kitchen.
No Blake.
She walked through the house, calling him without response. His truck wasn’t in the garage. When she returned to the kitchen, she saw his note.
Gone to rustle us up some breakfast.
She couldn’t help smiling. Smart-ass.
Why couldn’t he stop being funny and thoughtful and all-around adorable? He was making it difficult to focus on her mission. Which was the only thing that mattered.
She was alone in Blake Abbott’s house. She’d never get a better opportunity to see if there was anything there that could shed light on what had happened between their grandfathers.
She went to Blake’s office. The door was unlocked, but the moment she opened it, the dogs ran down the hall and greeted her.
Savannah shut the door and stooped in front of the dogs, petting them and giving Benny a peck on his nose.
“Stay here. I just need to take a quick peek.” Savannah slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. The dogs yipped in protest.
A loud thump nearly made her jump out of her skin. One of the dogs had jumped against the door.
Benny. The thud was too heavy to be Sam.
She glanced around. The neat, organized room was flooded with sunlight.
She had no idea how long it would be before his return. There was no time to waste.
Savannah searched the bookshelves. She looked through drawers and scanned files for anything related to the company’s origin. She sifted through his desk drawers, hoping to find something...anything.
There was nothing out of the ordinary.
She spotted his laptop. The same one he used at work.
Frustrated, Savannah sat down at the large oak desk and groaned. She bumped the mouse and the screen woke.
It was unlocked.
He’d obviously used it that morning and hadn’t been gone long. Savannah rummaged through the computer directories. All she found were the same files she accessed at work.
Savannah pulled open the desk drawer again and lifted the organizer tray. A photo of Blake, Sam and a woman was wedged in back.
The ex.
&n
bsp; She was pretty, but something about her didn’t feel real.
Hypocrite.
She was under Blake’s roof, sleeping in his bed and trying to stage a coup at his family’s company.
At least his ex had been up-front with her treachery.
Guilt gnawed at Savannah’s gut. She replaced the photo and then put the drawer back in order.
There were few personal photos elsewhere in the house, but the office walls and shelves were filled with family pictures and photos of King’s Finest employees—many of whom had worked for the Abbotts for decades.
Savannah was struck with deep, painful longing for her own family. The parents she’d never see again. The ailing grandfather who’d raised her. Her sister and young niece. They were the reasons she was doing this.
She had no desire to hurt Blake, but this was war. And in war, there were always casualties.
Her family hadn’t started it. But she sure as hell would finish it.
Even if it meant hurting Blake.
She was a spy working on the side of right. Sometimes trickery and deceit were required. And sometimes people got hurt. Good people. People you liked. But wasn’t getting justice for her family more important than hurting Blake Abbott’s pride?
He was a big boy. He’d get over it. Just as he’d gotten over his ex.
Or had he?
Savannah glanced at the drawer where the woman’s photo was hidden.
She sighed softly. He’d never forgive her once he learned that she was the granddaughter of his grandfather’s enemy.
But maybe he’d eventually understand.
Joseph Abbott hadn’t given her a choice. This was what she had to do, even if what she really wanted now was Blake Abbott.
The garage door creaked. Savannah peeked through the window. Blake’s big black pickup truck was approaching.
Savannah made a quick sweep of the room, ensuring everything was as she’d found it. She hurried into the hall past the dogs.
“Stay.” She held up a hand when they tried to follow her. Benny’s paw prints were all over the door, but there was no time to clean them.
Savannah hurried upstairs and got into the shower. She pressed her back against the cool tiles and reminded herself she’d done what she had to do.
So why was her chest heavy with guilt? And why did her eyes sting with tears?
Because she couldn’t stop wishing last night had been real and that she could have Blake Abbott for herself.
Eleven
Their tails wagging, Sam and Benny ambushed Blake when he stepped through the garage door.
“Calm down, you two.” Blake set the grocery bag on the counter and unloaded it.
The house was quiet, but the note he’d left for Savannah had been moved, so she’d been downstairs.
Blake put the bacon in the oven and set up an impromptu omelet bar. When the bacon was done, he grabbed another shirt for Savannah and headed toward the guest room. The room where he’d awakened with her in his arms.
He knocked on the door. “Savannah, you up?”
She opened the door wearing a bath towel wrapped around her curvy frame. Her hair was wrapped in another. “Sorry. I just hopped out of the shower.”
“Then you’ll be needing this.” He handed her another shirt, this one a gray short-sleeve T-shirt.
“Thanks.” She clutched the garment to her chest. “That was thoughtful of you.”
“Breakfast is set.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling awkward, as if they were strangers who hadn’t been intimate the night before. “Hope you like omelets and bacon.”
“I love them.” Her smile was polite. Distant. “Be down in a sec.”
“Okay then.” Blake rubbed the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure where things stood between them, but their awkward morning-after conversation didn’t bode well.
He jogged down the steps and paused, head tilted, noticing paw marks on the office door. He obviously hadn’t done a thorough job of cleaning Benny after their walk.
Blake grabbed a rag and some wood cleaner and wiped the door down. Then he cleaned Benny’s paws again and tossed the rags into the laundry room.
Why was Benny trying to get into the office?
He wouldn’t unless someone was in there. The muddy prints weren’t on the door when Blake left. That meant Savannah had been inside.
But why?
Blake returned to his office. Everything was exactly as it had been that morning. Still, she’d been there. He was sure of it.
He returned to the kitchen and cut up some fruit, his mind turning.
“Smells delicious.” Savannah stood at the entrance of the kitchen with Sam and Benny at her feet.
Traitors.
They dropped him like a bad habit whenever Savannah was around, Benny more so than Sam.
“Thanks. I made bacon, set up an omelet bar and made a fruit salad.” Blake poured himself a glass of orange juice. He lifted the container. “Juice?”
“Please.” She sat at the breakfast bar. “But let me make the omelets. I insist.”
“The stove is all yours.” He handed her a glass.
Savannah sipped her juice, then melted butter in a pan and sautéed vegetables.
“I hope you were able to get some sleep,” Blake said finally. He wanted to ask why she’d been in his office.
“Didn’t get much sleep.” She flashed a shy smile. “But I certainly have no complaints.”
“Glad to hear it.” The tension in Blake’s shoulders eased. He parked himself on a stool.
“One other thing...” Savannah pulled an ink pen from the breast pocket of her T-shirt and handed it to him. “I borrowed a pen from your office. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.” Blake breathed a sigh of relief. Savannah did have an innocent reason for being in his office. It was good he hadn’t accused her of snooping. “Glad you found what you were looking for.”
He tapped a finger on the counter after an awkward silence fell over them. “About what happened last night,” he began.
Her posture stiffened. She didn’t turn around. “What about last night?”
“It was amazing.”
“For me, too. Believe me.” Savannah’s cheeks were flushed but she seemed relieved. She moved to the counter and cracked eggs into a bowl.
“I like you, Savannah. I have since the day you walked into my office and called bullshit on me for trying to reschedule your interview.”
She looked at him briefly and smiled before washing her hands at the sink with her back to him. “But?”
“But I shouldn’t have kissed you or let things get as far as they did.”
She turned off the pan with the vegetables, then heated butter in another pan.
“I get it. I work for your family. Last night was my fault. You tried to show restraint. I should apologize to you.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “It won’t happen again.”
“That’s the thing.” Blake stood, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. “I don’t want it to be over. I don’t think you do, either.”
Savannah turned to him slowly. She worried her lower lip with her teeth.
“It doesn’t matter what we want. You’re an Abbott, and I’m...” She sighed. There was something she wouldn’t allow herself to say. “I’m your subordinate. If anyone knew about what happened last night...it wouldn’t look very good for either of us.”
She wasn’t wrong.
Blake groaned, leaning against the counter. “I’ve never been in this position before.”
“You’ve never been attracted to one of your employees before?” she asked incredulously.
“Not enough to risk it.”
Her teasing expression turned more serious. She returned to her task. “You’re worried I’ll kiss a
nd tell, like everyone else in this gossipy little town.”
“That isn’t it at all.”
“Then there’s no problem. Once the bridge opens, you’ll take me back to my car and we’ll pretend this never happened.”
Blake wanted to object. But Savannah was right. It would be best if they pretended last night never happened.
But that was the last thing he wanted to do.
* * *
“Thanks for breakfast,” Savannah said as she ate the final bite of her omelet. “Everything was delicious.”
They’d endured the awkward meal, both acting as if walking away from each other was no big deal. The heaviness in the air between them indicated otherwise.
“Your omelet especially.” Blake gathered their plates and took them to the sink. “Good thing I raided my sister’s refrigerator.”
“You told Zora I was here?”
“Of course not.” He turned to scrape the plates. “She hinted that she thought it was you, but she was just fishing. Trust me.”
Savannah joined him at the sink. “What did she say exactly?”
“I don’t recall her exact words.”
Savannah was supposed to be a fly on the wall. Working in the background, hardly noticed. Now she had the full attention of Blake and she’d be on Zora’s radar, too.
And if Zora suspected, did that mean she’d already told the rest of his family?
“But your sister asked specifically if it was me you were entertaining for breakfast?”
“She didn’t mention your name. And if she had any real reason to believe it was you, she would’ve told me. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Maybe for you. Your family won’t fire you over this.”
“No one is getting fired. I promise.” He dried his hands on a towel and gripped Savannah’s shoulders. “Look at me.”
She did, reluctantly.
“I’d never let you get fired because of me. Trust me. All right?”
Savannah nodded, her breath coming in quick, short bursts. She’d come so far, and she was so close. She wouldn’t let anything derail her plans—not even Blake Abbott.
“When do you think I’ll be able to leave?”
“Got a weather alert on my phone.” Blake pulled it out of his pocket. “The bridge is still closed. According to the alert, it’ll be a couple of days. My dad already emailed us to say that if the bridge isn’t open by tomorrow, the plant will be closed on Monday.”