Page 92 of Magnetic God

“He seems to create a lot of trouble for the Brotherhood.”

“He’s a member?”

“No, but I think he has enough connections that the Brotherhood still intervenes. That’s why they have Grant Carter running against him. They want to control the narrative.”

“It’s wild knowing they control that much.”

“I agree.” She rubs her stomach. “Now, would you like to join me at the dessert table? I spot a piece of cake calling my name.”

Smiling, I say, “Lead the way.”

Because I’ll never turn down a good piece of cake, especially when it’s with a friend.

26

Hannah

Another month goes by in marital bliss. Each day, a new story about me and Brooks is released, until we become old news in the public’s eye. It’s exactly what we want to happen.

Today we’re meeting in downtown Dallas to go furniture shopping. Since we’ve decided to make Dallas our full-time residence, I want Brooks to feel at home. That means turning one of the guest rooms into an office for him. We’re still keeping the house in Denver and will use it for vacations and getaways.

Brooks is running late and was kind of vague about what was keeping him, so I’m curious. I check my phone, but there aren’t any new text messages from him.

He rounds the corner, smiling.

“Sorry I’m late, Angel. My appointment ran late.”

“Appointment?”

He holds up his right hand, which is covered with a dressing. “New tattoo.”

“I wish you would have told me. I’ve been craving ink therapy.”

He puts his hand over his chest. “A woman after my own heart. We can get inked any time you want, Angel.”

“What did you get?”

“It’s a surprise.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “I’ll show you if you’re a good girl.”

“Tease.”

He takes my hand, bringing it to his lips. “Where to, Mrs. Henderson?”

“There’s a new Thai place a few blocks over. I thought we could try it out before we go shopping.”

“You know I love Thai. Lead the way.”

We hold hands as we walk, talking about our upcoming trip to Los Angeles.

“Grant’s people said the fundraiser will last a few hours. They’re expecting it to be a star-studded event.” He smiles down at me. “Of course, we don’t have to stay late.”

I poke at his side. “We never stay late.”

“Like I told Grant, we’re still in our honeymoon phase.”

I hum. “Yes, we are.”

I’m about to say something suggestive when I spot something out of the corner of my eye. No, not something. Someone. My mother and stepfather, to be precise.

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