Page 120 of Beautiful Betrayal

“No,” I say quickly. “I just meant—”

“It’s okay. I’m not sensitive and shit. That’s Savage.” He eyes Jacob. “Right, Jacob?”

“Savage is many things I can’t quite name.”

I laugh, thankful for the distraction that’s taken the edge off my nerves. Blake points to the back door behind me. “I’ll trade spots with you,” he says. “I’m going to chat with Grayson.”

My brows dip and my heart lurches. “Is everything okay?” I suck in a breath and wait for the bombshell that has Blake here, chasing Grayson at seven in the morning, and clearly, one he’s going to reveal alone, with me out of the conversation.

Chapter eighty

Mia

“Blake?” I press. “Is everything okay?”

“Relax,” he says. “Everything is flipping wonderful.” He grins. “See. I didn’t say fuck.” He grimaces. “Damn it. Don’t tell Kara.”

Now I laugh. “I promise. If you promise everything really is flipping wonderful.”

He grins again. “I promise. I’m just reassuring him about this deal beingfucking wonderful.” He winks at me now, too—apparently, it’s that kind of morning—before he climbs inside the Escalade with Grayson and Smith.

Jacob shuts the door behind him. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’m going to be,” I say, and together we head toward the building. “What’s your story?” I ask him, preferring to know something about the people who I’m trusting to save my life.

“Army,” he says, “which is a simplified way of defining my past, but I’m a simple guy.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” I reply.

His lips quirk, but he simply holds the building door for me. I enter with him on my heels and towering above me as we make our way toward the restaurant. We’re halfway there when Reese intercepts us. “Morning, Mia.” He stops in front of us, his blue suit fits to perfection, and his good looks, the reason some bloggers call him Mr. Hotness. Which I imagine he can’t like, considering his professional reputation. “Morning, Jacob,” he adds, before his attention shifts back to me. “I use Walker often for investigative and security work,” he explains. “Jacob has helped me out a number of times. And sorry, this has to be early and fast.”

“I just appreciate you making time,” I say. “Grayson wants to drive you to the courthouse and get a few minutes to get a feel for what you think of this immunity deal.”

“In case that ride is too short, let me just say this: I’m feeling optimistic about where this is heading with this deal. And since I know terms are what you and Grayson are likely concerned about, yes, I’m certain they’ll negotiate the terms. All that said, why don’t you two just come over for dinner tonight? We have our daughter and I have trial prep I need to be home to manage. That’s the easiest way for us to get more time to talk.”

“That works for us,” I say, the idea of having our own baby girl doing funny things to my belly “We’d love that.”

“Perfect,” Reese says, lifting his chin at Jacob. “In case you don’t know, Mia, this man’s wife had something to do with helping move this along.”

I glance at Jacob. “Your wife?”

Jacob gives a fast nod. “She’s NYPD but she has a connection at the FBI that proved helpful, even beyond Blake’s deep connections. She wasn’t involved in this case, but she managed to insert herself in the right places.”

“Thank you to her,” I say. “I’ll make sure Grayson knows.”

“Not necessary, ma’am,” Jacob assures me. “We just like to see the good guys win.”

“As do I,” I say, glancing at Reese, “which is why I appreciate this meeting, Reese.”

“Well then,” he says. “Let’s get to it while I have time.”

I nod and we head toward the restaurant. “I’ll wait at the entryway,” Jacob says, while Reese and I step into the doorway to the hostess stand to find Delaney sitting and waiting at a side bench. She pops to her feet, a petite, pretty woman with red hair and the kind of luminous pale freckled skin that money and good genes delivers. Her black dress, boots, and matching purse are Chanel, which I know because I love Chanel and only have Chanel because Grayson buys it for me. I won’t buy it for myself. That was a bonding topic for me and Delaney as it was the same for her. Her husband bought her nice things, but unlike Grayson, who does it because he loves me, hers did it to apologize or hold her captive. She was also expected to present herself as an appropriate trophy wife. I feel as if she doesn’t know how to be anything but what he literally beat her into becoming. Or else.

She hurries our direction and she’s nervous when she joins us. I see that in the twist of her fingers in front of her before she shakes Reese’s hand. “Delaney Wittmore. Or it is now. I’m going to change it back to Adams, soon.”

“Understandable,” Reese replies. “Sorry to rush this, Delaney,” he adds, “but I have to be in court in an hour.”

“Of course,” she says. “Thank you for seeing me.”

---