“I haven’t been out on a date in ages,” she confesses. “Well, besides this assignment.”
That makes me very fucking happy for some reason. “Well, I’m glad I get to be the one to take you out.”
“This isn’t real,” she says in a hurry.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
Chapter 17
Addison
If I were an animal, I should be a snow leopard. I’ve learned all about them tonight, thanks to Miffie.
They’re solitary creatures that only mingle to breed. Solitary really works best for me. I mean, see what happens when I’m let out into the wild—I’m humping my partner.
It’s not so bad being alone. After a while it becomes less and less of a thing. Sex becomes an afterthought. Relationships become a distant memory, and you face the world alone, content. Not even knowing what you’re missing.
But then you get an inkling of attention, and you realize you’ve been missing so much. And you become aware of the fact how you kind of like having someone smile at you from across the room, like Vin is doing right now.
It feels good to be noticed. To feel that adoration. But, this isn’t real life. This is pretend, and in real life Vin wouldn’t be smiling at me from across a crowded room.
Vin would definitely be a panther. That’s what he reminds me of, prowling the ballroom of the country club, with his lethal power encased all in black.
It should be illegal how good he looks tonight.
“Thank you all for coming,” Miffie’s voice blares through the room as she speaks into a microphone. “Dinner will be served in ten minutes. Enjoy.”
“You’d think she could find something domestic to raise a million dollars for,” Greg drawls, standing a little too close to me. “Maybe a better personality for herself.”
“Rawr. Tell me how you really feel.”
He chortles like I just said the funniest thing he’s ever heard. I’m not liking this flirting thing. Although, honestly, I haven’t had to make any effort, Greg is doing it all on his own.
“Rawr is right, you little tiger.”
Chills erupt across my skin when Vin brushes his hand against the small of my back. “Hey, babe. Ready to sit down?”
I nod, and he guides me away from Greg toward the round tables adorned with white linens and flowers to match the pictures of snow leopards displayed around the room.
We find our place cards at a table in the center, along with all the primary suspects, and take a seat.
The server places a leafy green salad in front of me and takes my drink order.
“This is all so extravagant,” I whisper to Vin.
He places his hand on my knee and leans in close, so no one can hear him say, “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
I blush, unable to really even answer. Getting a compliment from my fake husband shouldn’t feel this good, but it does.
Miffie flits around the ballroom, fluttering from table to table before she ends up in front of us.
She raises her champagne glass in a ‘cheers’ before she air kisses each of us and moves on. Talk about a social butterfly. But she’s in her element, and you can tell she loves every minute of it.
“I remember when I was first married,” June, seated to my right, says, bumping her shoulder into mine, and obviously overhearing what Vin whispered in my ear. “That ‘newlywed’ stage. It’s the best, isn’t it?”
I giggle, yes like a high school girl, because I think that might have been the last time I ever actually had a crush on someone. And that someone broke my heart. “Dale actually ran me a bath last night.” June waggles her brows in my direction. “You know what that means.”
I don’t.
“That’s so romantic,” I say, guessing this is the right response to that statement.
Greg and Kelly take a seat across the table from us.
Those two, hm. They’re odd, and highly flirtatious, but could they really be someone with mob ties? Could any of these people? I just don’t know anymore.
My eyes scan the table, landing on the next couple: Chester and Helena Fowler. Could they be working for Matteo and his men?
Possibly. Chester’s stand-off vibe with me is strong, but Helena is nothing like that.
She may come off as snooty or bold, but the other night, at cook book club, once you get to know her, you see she’s really just a closet dominatrix with a heart of gold.
But what if she cares about money laundering with that big heart of hers?
My eyes make it back to Vin, owner of the hand that still sits on top of my knee. His thumb draws lazy semi-circles, making my heart thump a little harder in my chest.
He leans in really close to my ear. “Did you notice something?”
His raspy voice sends shivers down my spine.
I take a brief scan, assessing the ballroom. Servers, dressed in white, line the back wall. Miffie stands near the stage, shaking hands with the mayor and other county officials. Nothing unusual, except...where’s Richard? “I don’t see the husband.”
“Bingo.” Vin gives my knee one last squeeze before rising. “If you’ll excuse me.” He drops his napkin onto the table, and then he’s gone.
I watch as he slips through the exit doors leading into the back-kitchen area.
“These things get so boring after a while,” June says close to my ear.
“How many of these type events does Miffie throw?”
She takes a sip of champagne. “Like one every week. I feel like I’m constantly throwing dollar bills at her to save something.”
“She’s very altruistic, huh?”
June tips the champagne glass again and empties its contents. “Oh please, she’s always talking about saving the animals, but I saw the fur in her closet.” She stops a waiter passing by and asks for more champagne. “She’s not fooling anyone.”
After a few minutes, Vin returns to his seat. I smile as the servers clear our salad plates. “Find him?” I ask.
He shrugs a little. “He’s not here.”
“Maybe we should leave? Try to find him?”
Vin places his hand on top of my knee again, circling his thumb over my skin. “Let’s just hang out here for a while longer.”
Miffie grabs our attention again with her microphone, making me feel guilty for the filet just set before me, since the snow leopards don’t have enough to eat.
Her dedication is strong, and I wonder if she does indeed have a fur coat like June said? Maybe it was fake.
Maybe it’s as fake as my marriage to Vin.
This is my first real assignment. First time I’ve been off the desk. I know Vin is a pro at being undercover, and working a case, but for me it’s going to take a little time to adjust. I’ve never done anything like this before in my life, and I keep having to remind myself it’s all fake. Every single thing.
Vin lets go of my knee—thank you— and I feel like I can think more clearly now.
When his hands are on me, when he stares at me the way he does sometimes, it’s hard to think. It’s hard to remember why I’m here in the first place. And honestly, I kind of wish it was all true.
Miffie ends her speech to a round of applause, and like a good hostess, wanders from table to table laughing and chatting.
“Where did Richard run off to?” my not-real husband asks when she arrives back at our table.
Her perfectly arched brows pull together. “Is he not here?”
“I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” I feel sort of bad for Miffie and the fact Richard could leave mid-speech.
“He probably had a work call.” She puts her charming hostess mask back in place. “We’ve raised so much money tonight. Thank you all.”
She leaves us, and I whisper in Vin’s ear, “Should we donate?” I don’t know how or with what money, but I have a little bit saved in an account across town I could use.
“I’ve already taken care of it.” And then he kisses me on the cheek.
> It’s all so husbandly. This is the type of thinking that can get me sent right back to the desk. It was a nice desk, don’t get me wrong, but still nothing as exciting as being out in the field. This is why I joined the FBI in the first place. I wanted to make a difference. Catch the bad guys. This was my dream, and now that I’m finally here, and the promotion hangs in the balance, I’m having a hard time remembering that this is all fake.
We spend the rest of the evening engaging in chit chat with the other couples from our neighborhood, but nothing feels right.
Richard never returned. And Miffie either didn’t know or pretended nothing was wrong.
If my husband left during a party, you bet I’d know about it. Because one thing is certain, I can’t keep my eyes off my fake husband.
Chapter 18
Vin
I’ve never wanted an event to end so badly in all my life. The pretenses that go with a life of wealth are one of the main reasons I went my own way after college. It’s one of the main reasons I joined the FBI. I wanted different. I wanted unstructured. Being at this dinner tonight has me remembering all the brunches my mother would drag me to when I was a kid, and hearing all the talk of things people didn’t really care about—like snow leopards— just to impress their neighbors.
I never understood where the competition came into play, and why it was so fierce between neighbors who call themselves friends.
Why did it matter who had the bigger car, boat, etc?
It doesn’t.
I feel that familiar tug of ‘who gives a shit’ right now with everyone at this table. At least I can say with certainty I have the hottest wife. It’s true.
Like she’s the complete package, and Greg is ogling her the same way I am—like he wants to rip her dress off. Maybe if he looked at his wife the way he’s looking at mine, she’d be sitting next to him instead of god knows where.
“We’re having a garden party next weekend. Has Kelly invited you?” he says to Addison, forking into the tiny sliver of cheesecake on his dessert plate. For the amount of money being donated, you’d think we’d get a full slice.
“No, she hasn’t,” Addison answers. “Sounds fun.”
“Maybe I can borrow that cookbook of yours?” he asks her.
That’s my limit. “Sorry, but no.” I don’t really need to give him a reason, because fuck him. “Ready to go, babe?”
She placates Greg with a dazzling smile and nods. Which makes me growl inwardly. We say our goodbyes and then leave the craziness behind.
“Was that a little rude to just say no?” Addison asks while we wait for the valet to bring the Rover.
“Nope. He can get his own cookbook.” The valet arrives, and I open her door. “He can afford it.”
She slips inside, and I hand the valet a twenty before driving us away.
“We’ll have to ask Richard where he was tonight,” she says as I roll out of the parking lot.
“I’m sure he’ll have some great excuse. This case is going nowhere.” She crosses her arms.
I hit a red light and look over at her. The moon shines into the cab of the Rover, and highlights Addison’s hair to an angelic blonde halo. She doesn’t respond, just stares out the window like I said something wrong. But, it’s true this case is going nowhere. And fast. I need to think like an agent, and quit thinking with my dick.
“Everything ok?” I ask, when she keeps her head turned.
“Is that Richard?”
Over her shoulder, I spot Richard, sitting in his Audi. But, what’s most interesting is that he isn’t alone. A dark haired man sits shotgun in the front seat.
He pulls away when the light changes, and continues down the road a bit before making a right. I follow them.
This could be the big break in the case. Maybe he skipped the event because he has more important things to do—like a money drop off, while everyone else is occupied at Miffie’s fundraiser.
I flick on the turn signal, and follow along behind them. Not too close, mind you. I may have done this a time or two in the past.
“Who do you think that man is?” Addison muses.
They drive past the front gate of the Highlands, and I keep following. “No clue. I’ll try to get up close and maybe you can snap a pic.”
She pulls her phone from her handbag and lines it up to try to get a shot.
They make a left at a red light and I follow, trying my best to catch up.
My mind races with a plethora of theories of why Richard and some mystery man would be driving around town late at night.
Something has been off with Richard since day one. His mortgage companies may check out, but it doesn’t mean that he’s not finding another way to launder. Maybe he has a partner. Maybe this guy.
It’s highly plausible.
Richard speeds up to beat the yellow light ahead and makes a left onto Boulder Road. Shit. I get caught at the light, and oncoming traffic prevents me from following.
The light finally turns, and when I make the left, his car is nowhere to be seen.
“Lost them.” I slam my hand against the steering wheel.
Addison slumps in her seat, and I turn the Rover around, backtracking to the Highlands. As soon as we pull into our driveway, the loud security system siren wails from next door.
“What the fuck is that?” I draw my gun, spotting a man running through the bushes.
“Stay here.”
“Um, no,” she says.
It’s too late though, I’m already out the door, and racing across the lawn.
I’m sure security has already been alerted and the police are on their way, so I can really only keep my gun drawn for a minute, maybe two, before my cover is blown.
And that’s when I see the dark figure running through the rose bushes behind the house.
I don’t even have a second to think before I’m chasing after him, holstering my weapon. He’s a fast fucker, and my feet barely hit the ground as I chase the asshole into another lawn, and into the back of the neighborhood park.
His labored pants echo in the dark, and the fact this fucker isn’t used to running works to my advantage.
I close the distance and grab the back of his hoodie, bringing him back to me. “Don’t say a word, asshole.”
Of course, he’s cursing me out, telling me to let go or he’ll sue me. Sad thing is, in this day and age he’d probably win. If I wasn’t FBI.
So, I’ll let him threaten me all he wants. There’s no way I’m letting this prick go.
With his hands behind his back, I take him back to the house where the cops, and neighborhood security, have shown up.
The cops spot us and raise their weapons, telling us to freeze.
“Relax, I’ve got your perp,” I tell them.
They holster their weapons, and step closer. The flashing red and blue has lit up the whole neighborhood, and I release the man to the cops who handcuff him immediately.
The fact this man was snooping around our house has me on high alert.
“Leave our family alone,” Dale shouts at the man.
What the fuck is going on? Who is this man?
“What happened?” Addison whispers to me.
“I’m not a hundred percent sure.”
She moves across the lawn toward June, wrapping her arm around June’s shoulders.
Once the man is in the back of the cop car, a policeman moves to Dale. “Have you ever seen that man?”
“He’s my wife’s ex-husband, Carl Matthews.”
Addison’s eyes meet mine. Ex-husband?
June stays quiet as Dale answers more questions from the officer, and I don’t move a muscle, absorbing all the information.
After the cops ask me a few questions, they finally haul the man away. Dale and June apologize to me, over and over.
“It’s fine. Seriously, I just want to make sure you’re both all right,” I say to Dale.
His shoulders relax, like having his secret out in the open eases a tension he�
��s been holding onto for so long. He wraps an arm around June. “We’ve been hiding from that asshole for a really long time. Even changed our names. And somehow he keeps finding us.”
“Will you have to move?” Addison asks June.
June’s shrugs, like she’s resigned to a life of moving and hiding. “I hope not.”
Addison gives her a quick hug. “I hope not either.”
She’s sincere, and fuck, we’re screwing this up so bad. The house feels like it’s closing in on me, once we’re safely inside.
I blow out a breath, crossing the hardwoods to the fridge. “Water?” I ask.
She shakes her head no. “Well, that explains the gun I found.”
“Yeah.” I take a swig of water. “They just slid to the bottom of the suspects.”
“Well that’s good, though. Less people at the top,” she says, finding the silver lining.
“I like that.” I like her.
“Why did you tell me to stay?” She chews her lip for a moment. “Do you think I’m incompetent?”
“No,” I answer, with the truth. How can I tell her I didn’t want her to get hurt? I know she’s more than qualified to protect herself, but in that moment, I wasn’t thinking as an agent, I was thinking as a man who wanted to protect something important. And I’m not ready to admit that.
She accepts my answer and grins. “You chased him pretty far.”
“I think sleeping on that hard ass bed has slowed me down.”
“Your bed is hard?”
“Like bricks.”
“I can switch with you.”
“No. I’d never subject you to that.”
”Listen,” she pauses, “we’re kind of past the modesty stage. I mean...well, we could share the cloud bed?”
“You’d share your cloud with me?”
She nods. “Obviously, no...stuff. Just sleep.”
“Stuff?” I place my palms on the countertop. “Like kissing and touching?”
“Vin…”
“I can keep my hands to myself,” I assure her, knowing full well I can’t.
“Good.” She thumbs over her shoulder. “I’m just going to head on up. Prepare my side.”
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