Page 47 of Saved By My Buyers

Finishing up the proposal once she leaves, I grab my suit jacket and coat, shrugging them on. There’s wicked snow drifts falling outside, making me crinkle my nose in disgust.

Detroit’s educational districts refuse to call snow days for shits and giggles, and Bronwyn’s school is just as bad. Her professor did say he wasn’t happy to be in this weather.

Hoping he doesn’t release them early because I don’t want to miss her, I wind my scarf around my face and tug on my warm leather gloves. Time to get the fuck out of here.

My keys jingle in my hand as I stride out of the office, locking up behind me. Due to the sensitive nature of our jobs, we all make sure to power down our computers when we leave and lock everything up.

The last thing we want is a break-in when our job is to make sure everyone’s information is protected.

The last one to leave turns on the security system, and we also have a human guard who protects the floor outside of our offices. Between all of that and the video cameras, our floor is very secure. We don’t fuck around.

Once I’m in the truck, I call Bronwyn to see if she’s out of class yet. She always has her phone on silent, so I’m not worried about it ringing. She doesn’t answer, helping me relax as I drive through the city to her school.

She doesn’t know that I’m on my way, so I call her again as soon as the clock hits nine.

“Hey, Jack. I’m walking out of class now,” she says, and I can hear the door slam behind her.

“Good, what parking lot are you in?” I ask, driving toward the building her class is in.

“Lot D. I was running late again,” she sighs.

“That’s across campus, baby,” I grunt, seeing her on the sidewalk in the cold. “Get in, I’m pulling up alongside you now.”

Turning, I see her smile peeking over her scarf. Her red hair is underneath the hood of her heavy winter jacket, curling wildly in the cold. It reminds me a lot of how Dahlia’s hair was.

Bronwyn clambers up into the truck, shivering as she slides into the seat.

“Thank you,” she says. Tucking her phone into her backpack, she drops it on the floor. “I wasn’t looking forward to that walk. What made you decide to come get me?”

Rolling my eyes at her in amusement, I drop my phone in the cup holder as she closes the door.

“It’s snowing, Bronwyn, and I was worried,” I tell her. “Be prepared to be a passenger princess the rest of the winter. I think I’m going to drive you around the city to school and work.”

“But what about your work?” she asks, pulling on her seatbelt. “That’s the entire point of buying me a car.”

No, I wanted her to be able to be independent and learn how to drive. It was never because I didn’t want to do it for her.

“We’re going to agree to disagree there,” I murmur, pulling away from the curb. “The weather is ridiculous, and I’d rather drop you off than have you driving in it or hiking through it.”

“It’s Michigan,” she says with a giggle. “What else am I supposed to do in this weather?”

“Accept that I’m going to rearrange my schedule so I’m not worrying about you?” I ask, even though it’s exactly what I want her to do. She may have been born with a silver spoon in her mouth between her grandfather's money and Gareth’s, but she’s never acted spoiled in the entire time that I’ve known her.

“Jack, that’s really sweet, but this feels like a big commitment on your part,” she sighs.

Pulling in next to her car in the lot, I turn to face her. “The last time I ignored my instincts, the worst happened,” I remind her. The pinched pain in her eyes makes me release her seatbelt, pulling her into my lap.

“I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you. We’ve been living together for awhile, and we agreed we’d move forward with our feelings, complicated as they are.”

“So more than only sleeping together when we’re drunk and depressed,” Bronwyn murmurs with a small smirk.

“Yes, because you’re a gorgeous, kind woman, who deserves more. I’m not honorable enough to let you go, so I’m yours,” I say seriously. “Being that, I should tell you that the hacker on my team asked if she could add an encryption code into the security system to search for Dahlia. My client has a series of department stores that he owns, which means a lot of people go through there.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” she asks, but straightens to show that she doesn’t care about legalities.

“I rarely follow the law when it comes to Dahlia,” I drawl. Even though I’ve been in the Midwest for years, the southern boy in me still comes out at times. “We said we’d move on…”

“But what if we find her?” she finishes.

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