Page 90 of Synced to Us

I feel like a new woman, or maybe more of the woman I always was, and I have Wyn to thank for it.

I roll over in bed, his warm body sunk into my mattress. The turquoise sheets contrast with the golden skin, and I kiss his upper arm where I’ve spotted a freckle.

He mumbles into the pillow. After my confession, we’d taken the rest of our forgiveness to bed. Wyn was gentle with me this time, as if approaching our sex like we’d never had it before. As if he wanted to be the one to take my virginity, or at the very least, replace my memories. He’d worshipped me. He pleasured my core with his tongue, moving up until he traced my belly-button with kisses. Wyn spent time coaxing my nipples into peaks, then spent time coaxing my nipples into peaks, until he found my mouth, pushed one of my legs up, and fucked me at an angle that I’m going to make him try to find again.

The early evening light casts new shadows across my bedroom and brings with it the one, remaining black mark on my soul I’ve yet to confess.

“Wyn?” I prod him on the shoulder. “You awake?”

“Depends,” he mumbles. “Are you still naked?”

I release a short laugh, but sober after deciding what I want to say. “I have one more thing to tell you.”

One of his eyes pops open against the pillow.

“Not about me—that part’s finished.”

“Thank God.” Wyn rolls over and sits up. “Not that I can’t take it, but you’ve gone through enough.”

I offer him a wane smile. “It’s about your accounts.”

“Right.” He nods, remembering. “You read the email.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t get to it earlier. It must’ve gotten mixed up with my assistant, and since you weren’t a named client, maybe she became confused. Either way, it was forwarded over to me to be resolved before I left the firm.”

“Those fuckers ended up firing you, huh. Morons.”

“The investigation was nothing but an HR-friendly way to terminate me. But I did take a look at your accounts and noticed something strange almost immediately. If we go to my computer now, I can get more specific.”

“Yeah. Let’s go.” He chews on his lower lip before moving from the bed. “I sent you the info, I guess I better suck it up and hear it.”

Wyn throws off the sheets, revealing his nakedness. He pads out of the room, his butt-cheeks clenching like two perfectly ripe melons as he leaves.

Not one to be left behind, I dart out of bed. I wrap myself in a thin, silk robe and meet him in my office.

Wyn settles in behind me as I slide into my chair and pull up the pdfs.

“See?” I point at screen. “There. Have you ever heard of Aspen Landing Holdings?”

“Fuck no.”

“Didn’t think so,” I mutter and type on my keyboard. “There have been monthly deposits to this account dating back at least three years. At first, they started small: three hundred here, two hundred there. In the last year, someone got cocky. We’re talking low five-figure transfers.”

“What the hell?” Wyn straightens and combs a hand through his disheveled hair. “The name looks vaguely familiar, but Ma was always saying she needed work done, like electricians, or plumbing, or de-weeding. Things I was just like, yeah, go for it. I must’ve assumed this was the contractor’s company.” Wyn pauses.

Then explodes. “How could I be such an idiot? You’ve seen the house. Nothing’s been done, despite what Ma says. Who is this guy? Who the fuck is in my accounts?”

I lift my hands from the computer, keeping silent, allowing Wyn to come to the conclusion himself. To his credit, it doesn’t take him long.

“Brad?” Wyn blinks at me. “Are you saying my brother is robbing me?”

I clear my throat. “It’s likely he made up this company to skim money without suspicion.”

“That motherfucking—” Wyn grimaces. Paces the room, his thighs bunching and abs rippling with muscles dying to be set free. “He’s not getting away with this. I’ve been living on a goddamned couch while he’s been siphoning my money? Ma’s money? I’ll throat-punch him. No, I’ll rip his bones out of his body, then offer his skin to be made into bacon at the local butcher’s shop.”

“Maybe take a breath before you confront him. Or the night.” Although it pains me to say it, I remember the consequences of Wyn’s temper.

“I’m fine!” he roars. He sucks in a huge breath after he does it. Shudders. Slopes his shoulders. “Okay. I’m not fine.”

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