Page 52 of Dirty Rotten Cheating Husband

As the shadows deepened in the yard, out of the corner of my eye I saw a brief flicker of movement on one of the security cameras.

My spine turned to ice.

Clementine was sitting beside me. Tiny, soft curves, her little foot curled up under her, sitting drinking her lavender tea in her sweatpants on the couch.

No one was going to hurt her. Ever.

They’d have to get through me first.

“I’ll be right back,” I said, dragging my eyes away from the security screen so she wouldn’t be anxious.

She flicked hazel eyes over to me.

“Getting tired, Grayson? Going to sneak out the back and down to the pub to watch the game?”

“Nope,” I said firmly. “I am riveted and rooting for Princess Sasha, the elegant Russian Blue. I’m just going to take the garbage out.”

“That Russian Blue is a real longshot,” she said.

“I’m rooting for the longshot,” I said. “Because I don’t give up. Even when things seem hopeless.”

“Pft,” she said, turning away and snuggling deeper in the couch.

I let myself noiselessly out the garage door, shutting the light off so the intruder wouldn’t see it slice across her green yard.

Letting my eyes adjust, I crouched behind a hydrangea bush and planned my attack.

It looked like there were two big dark figures in the driveway, beside the garbage bins. They were way too fucking close to the house!

I didn’t know who they were or what they were doing. It couldn’t be Harvey’s prison correspondents unless he’d been seducing some linebackers. Were they some of Harvey’s mob associates? Did he finally get the missing $50 million and they were here trying to get its location from him? Were they planning to burn down her home?

Moving slowly, I took a careful, circuitous route around the garden, stepping carefully over Clementine’s crocus and tulip bulbs.

She would not appreciate me destroying those.

Anger rose in me as I approached. One of the dark figures was facing her house now, where Clementine sat framed like an angel in the window. As I crept closer, one of them raised a camera to take a picture of her.

How fucking dare they threaten Clementine!

I wanted to rend them apart with my bare hands.

Moving as lightly as I could, I pounced, smashing an elbow into one of the men’s necks, knocking him senseless to the ground.

“You’re missing it,” Clementine called smugly from indoors, “Princess Sasha just bit one of the judges.”

“I want to hear her side of the story first,” I said.

“Oh my god, Grayson!” she caroled, and I heard the unbearably delightful sound of her little throaty chuckle. “Don’t try to grovel by pretending you’re a cat dad.”

“I’ll be whatever kind of daddy you want,” I said, as the other man raised a heavy cudgel, like he was going to strike me.

Kicking out with my foot, I knocked him off balance. He looked like a pretty big guy too, and I whipped around and elbowed him in the shoulder, sending him flailing sideways.

“I’ll be a plant daddy, cat daddy, and I’ll give you as many babies as you want,” I said, smashing my fist in this guy’s face and hearing the satisfying crunch of his broken nose.

There was something sort of familiar about the grunt he made, and when another black-clad shape emerged from the shadows, it only confirmed my suspicion.

“Grayson, goddamn it! Stop! It’s us!”

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