Page 63 of Cruel Expectations

“I’ll take care of Meadow.” He gave Hunter a direct look, one that typically came from the top rank down. “Will you take care of Ivy?”

He didn’t even hesitate in his response—he spoke from the gut. From his soul.

“Fuck yes.”

He and Ivy hadn’t spent very much time with each other, but since their first meeting, he’d learned what a lovely, caring and special woman she was. Each time they were together added another notch scored into his soul. Spending today with her, just running errands—and giving her a blazing orgasm in the kitchen—had seared her into his psyche.

Ivy was his person. The one he’d turn to at his high points and low.

The scent of her lingered in the back of his mind, a sweet, intoxicating and womanly scent that disrupted his every thought and dream.

He wanted her. Now.

He looked at Colton. “Will you take over watch for me?”

Colton chuckled. “How did I know you were gonna ask? Sure, man. Go to her. But don’t expect this every night. I don’t like being away from my woman either.”

“Thanks, brother.” He stood and passed the rifle to Colton. With his long legs eating up the distance between the knoll and the main house, it didn’t take long to reach the front porch.

He let his epiphany roll over him—no, steamroll over him.

He was going to break into her bedroom window if need be just to tell her that she was his—in all ways.

She belonged with him.

To him.

Chapter Fourteen

Ivy hunched over the desk. The muscles between her shoulder blades had stiffened more and more as the night wore on. As she reached for the file folder on the corner of her father’s desk, a twinge shot through her shoulder with the movement.

Throwing a glance at the heavy brass clock sitting on one of the bookshelves, she found it hard to understand how so many hours had passed since she shut herself up in the office, determined to get to the bottom of the attacks on the ranch.

She had her suspicions that the ranch’s money issues were linked to what was going on around here. Why Colton had needed to kill a man. A ranch hand was murdered. And Meadow attacked. How much more didn’t she know?

Hunter clearly was being overprotective with her, keeping her out of the loop until pressed to provide information.

She stretched her arms overhead and rolled her neck from side to side.

The house was so quiet that it seemed to throb with it. While the silence helped her focus on her task, it unnerved her too.

A big yawn took over, and she stretched into it, extending her feet under the heavy desk and curling her bare toes. The scent of leather and her father’s cigar smoke filtered into her nose, stirring memories of walking in on her father working. Sometimes he’d let her climb into his lap. Most times, he sent her away.

She looked over the file again, leafing through pages she skimmed for the third time since she began searching days ago. With a sigh, she closed the folder and set it aside again.

She’d searched every scrap of paper in his filing cabinet and desk. After that, she turned to his hard drive. She’d read every single file on the computer.

Also, she’d dug around until she found a list of passwords he kept in a secure document. With his login information, Ivy was able to access his accounting program.

But it all seemed on the up-and-up.

There had to be another set of books. Question was, where would she find a second set of books? All the bad guys in the movies had one. They kept them in a safe.

Ivy eyed the safe on the wall behind the desk. She didn’t have the combination, but she highly doubted that her father kept more than important legal papers there and maybe a little cash. Knowing his steel trap of a mind, any secret information was locked up in his head.

Once again, Ivy pulled up the spreadsheet she’d been using to keep track of the paper trail.

Daddy attended six conventions this year. Twice as many as the previous year.

---