Page 36 of Exposed

I was just happy I wasn’t flushing pepper spray from my sinuses.

That shit is no joke, even if it’s not as bad as tear gas. I would know, I’ve experienced that too.

I tossed the pink can of tears to Micah and took her straight to the break room where I made it my mission to caffeinate her and make all her junk food dreams come true.

Despite it being a Sunday, I have no desire to hurry this along. For one, the later it gets, the less likely it is she’ll skip town today. Two, I’ve learned more about Dex Carter in between her ripping open wrappers than I have in the last year.

And three…

I have no desire to send her on her way now that she knows who I really am.

There’s also the fact I like looking at her.

And being near her.

I lean back in my chair and watch her pop a peanut into her mouth. “You’ve told me a lot, which I appreciate. But The Pink is worth a shit ton of money. The land, the historic estate, not to mention the prime oceanfront that spans acres. That’s not even touching the potential business revenue. In essence, you became a multi-millionaire the moment your father died. Why were you busting your balls trying to get my business planning a wedding?”

She pushes what’s left of her trail mix to the middle of the table and downs the rest of her coffee. Food and caffeine have done wonders for her. She doesn’t look like she’s on the brink of imploding at any moment.

“Just like I told your friends, King, I’m not a millionaire—let alone a multi one. And I didn’t move to Miami for the money. I came because having the chance to be a part of a place like The Pink would make all my dreams come true. When I was a little girl, I day-dreamed of happily ever afters and ice sculptures and grand ballroom dances. Those might’ve been day dreams, but I’ve worked hard to build Amare. I’m good at what I do—down to the tiniest detail that makes events special. I’m an event planner, but moving to Miami gave me the chance to focus on weddings.”

“Yet you walked away from all of it.”

“For my safety and sanity, yes.”

I lean forward and rest my forearms on the table. “You felt unsafe in a place that’s half yours?”

She leans back and folds her arms across her chest.

A defensive move.

Or one of self-preservation.

But that’s not surprising given how she reacted last night when her brother confronted us.

“Oh, I didn’t just feel unsafe. I know I was unsafe. And it had everything to do with Dex.”

Marigold Carter might stand five-and-a-half feet tall. She’s dressed in a baggy T-shirt, shorts, and flip flops. She doesn’t flaunt her body, but I know for a fact her curves are in all the right places from when I had her in my arms last night.

And from what little I know of Goldie, I have a feeling she’s as pure and as solid as her name.

I also work to put the scum of the earth in prison—scum like her brother. And people like that will take advantage of women like Goldie every chance they get when millions of dollars aren’t at play.

But when they are?

They’ll fucking eat her up like a delectable snack served with the finest champagne.

Not that I would know. Champagne tastes like piss. I hate the stuff.

“What did he do to make that happen?”

“Do you mean what didn’t he do? He did a lot, King. And he didn’t keep that task to himself. He delegated it among every jerk who works for him.”

Jerk.

This woman.

I lower my voice and push, “What did they do?”

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