Page 23 of Dirty Rumors

There is more muttering and mumbling about how amazing the Wolfe family is, as I try frantically to scribble down as much as I can. The two women behind me are silent with their shoulders slumped, as if they’d just been chewed out by their favorite movie star.

Once the chatter returns to normal, my mind turns as I stare out the window at the tree line in the distance. I knew that the Wolfe and Dirty families went way back. I didn’t realize that they were still so close.

Which makes my mind race off in a different direction. I don’t know everything about Carson yet. Here I am making assumptions based on other men instead of the incredible man right in front of me.

This makes me not only a bad person, but also a terrible researcher. What I should be doing is maintaining an open mind while gathering all the facts.

Like the fact that I’m pretty sure I’m already accidentally in love with Carson.

Crap.

14

CARSON

Ihate this not knowing when I’ll see Nikki again, but she clearly needs time to figure out what she wants. Still, all I can think about is proving myself to her, and ensuring sure that I’m the man she wants.

Of course, that doesn’t help if she doesn’t want a man in her life at all.

I text her a few funny jokes and memes throughout the day. That night, I send her a close-up photo of my freshly finished bright green diecast Dodge Charger.

She responds with a string of bombs exploding and happy face emojis.

The next morning I force myself not to message her until just before noon, with a photo of the stack of four parcels before I drive to the post office.

Very suspicious business around here. Sending new cars to Austin, Miami, Chicago and Toronto. My first Canadian order! I hope the moose like it.

Nikki: Look at you, working away on your top-secret mission in the lab. And here I am, an agent out in the wild.

She sends a photo from where she’s sitting, showing half of Main Street. So she’s right in front of the library.

I hurry to mail my packages, then roll up in front of the bench where she’s still sitting taking notes. I jump out and sit beside her. “Am I allowed to disturb you for a few minutes? Do you take a lunch break?”

“I was going to grab a sandwich at Corina’s in a bit. What’s up?”

My fingers slip through hers so naturally that it feels like we’ve been together forever. At least, a tiny part of me wants that to be true.

“Working, as always. Mailing suspicious packages that apparently upset the townsfolk, just like Grandpa did.” My eyes roll as Nikki laughs.

Then she straightens up. “Oh! I forgot to tell you about some of the family research we’ve been doing. Your family and the Wolfe family go way back. It looks like your great-grandfathers bought a whole bunch of land together.”

“Really.” A tiny prickle of worry chases between my shoulder blades. I don’t know what to think about Nikki or her friends peering so deeply into my family business. “Are you searching for anything in particular?”

She squeezes my hand. “No deep, dark secrets, promise. Just regular local history.”

Her soft, brown eyes melt the tension right out of me, even as her face falls. “I’m so sorry.” Her bottom lip is already wobbling. “I didn’t mean to piss you off.”

My arm slips around her. “Sorry, kitten. For just a split second, I felt a twinge that an outsider was prying through our family history.” My lips graze her forehead. “But you’re not an outsider. You’re…”

She looks up at me, practically holding her breath. My lips drop to her ear. “See, I’m torn between wanting to tell you that you’re mine, and wanting to take things slowly so that I don’t frighten you away.” Her expression is unreadable. “Should I have waited to tell you that?”

“No. Um. I…” She takes a deep breath, backing away before turning to face me head on. “I was thinking about what you said about your grandpa. I found some old records at the bank. They were in a library archive so old it wasn’t even loaded onto microfiche or digitized or anything.”

Another prickle. “…And? What did you find?”

Her fingers twitch, picking at the denim covering her knees. “He wasn’t just mailing a little money here and there to people. Well, he was. But he was also having money sent directly from the bank. The manager helped him disguise it in cardboard envelopes. The official bank label made it look like it was just a report about the recipient’s account or mortgage or something.”

I shrug noncommittally. “The stuff that people get away with in small towns, I guess.”

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