Page 64 of Just Between Us

A dark chuckle rumbled through Royal. “It’s worse when it’s intentional.”

My eyes searched his, but he glanced away. “Your dad?” I asked quietly.

“My dad was always cold and callous. Even after everything we uncovered recently, it tracks. It was my mom leaving that really gutted me. She was everything to me. My person.” He shook his head. “It’s taken me years to come to terms with the fact that she could walk away from all of us—that we didn’t matter enough for her to stay.”

I could feel the tension thickening the air. Behind the happy-go-lucky, tattooed tough guy was still a confused nine-year-old boy who missed his mother. My chest ached for him.

Indecision gnawed at me. My teeth pressed into my lower lip when I finally exhaled. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Royal’s gaze slowly moved across me, and I gathered my courage. “Your brother is up to something. He didn’t want me to divulge to the family the real reason I was hired, but it’s more than business consulting. He’s digging. I think he believes something might have happened to her and your father used the business to cover it up.”

His jaw went rigid. “Abel thinks our father may have killed our mother. He’s flat-out voiced his suspicions. But you need to be careful with JP,” he warned. “My brother has been groomed to take over the family business since he was a kid. He’s so much like my father it’s scary. If hewantsto find something, he will.”

“Okay.” My voice was quiet. Sure, JP had been calculating and stern, but he didn’t strike me as ruthless—not in the same way Russell King had been whispered about. My mind was reeling with the fact that at least one of Royal’s siblings thought Russell King was capable of murder. My heart ached for each of them.

Royal rubbed his hands across his face. “God, I do not want to think about this right now.” He shook his head. “That’s it. It’s going in the bucket.”

“The what?”

Royal leaned over me, his glorious scent and masculinity taking over my senses. His body covered mine. “I’m taking this conversation, and I’m going to chuck it in the fuck-it bucket.”

A giggle rolled out of me as he pressed me into the mattress and peppered my neck with fervent kisses. I was learning that it was what he was best at—Royal was quick to crack a joke and change the subject when things got uncomfortable.

He used humor to numb his pain.

Truth be told, I didn’t want to think about it either—in many ways sharing our secrets felt too intimate, too close—so I leaned into him and allowed him to pull me under.

EIGHTEEN

ROYAL

I rubbedmy thumb over the black cat tattoo on my thigh like it was a phantom itch. That woman was getting under my skin, and I wasn’t sure what to do about it.

Maybe another tattoo would help ...

I sighed at myself. Numbing out and masking whatever was going on inside me hadn’t worked so far—as evidenced by the concerning lack of unmarked skin. In the end I knew it wasn’t going to do either of us any good ... at least not in the long run.

Unreleased energy buzzed through my blood. It was the following Saturday night and getting late, but I couldn’t just sit around. I’d finished with my clients for the night, and I had sent Luna home early before closing the shop.

I needed to do something—anything.

What Iwantedto do was demand Veda come to my house so I could have my way with her before making her dinner and snuggling up on the couch to watch the latest season of that historical romance drama my sisters couldn’t stop talking about.

Veda’s rules rolled around in my skull.Clear boundaries, clear expectations.I was fairly certain all the feelings that had come up lately would push against her rigidno strings attachedrule, which meant a quiet, low-key evening together was likely out of the question.

The Pulse app mocked me from my home screen. My inbox was flooded with unhappy messages about my lack of posting new content, and the unsubscribe notifications had been coming in droves. I’d taken a hit financially but couldn’t quite muster up the gumption to care. What had started out as a half-baked plan to fund a cushion to my business had morphed into something that had quickly lost its luster.

I’ll be waiting when you’re ready for the next shiny thing.

My father’s words rolled around in my head. He had spouted off different versions of it since I was a teenager—he never could stand my impulsivity, and I hated the fact he was right. Trouble was, I had been on my best behavior for a while, and I could already feel myself sliding off the rails.

I pulled up the group chat.

Let’s do something stupid.

Lee

I’m in.

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