Page 5 of Smith

Nothing else on the page.

Two words.

“Knows what?” I muttered.

“Got me,” she returned. “That’s all they say. Every two weeks, ‘I know’.

“Nothing to your PO box or to your registered agent?”

“Nope. Just these to the house and some dickwad who broke in.”

“I take it the mess from the break-in has been cleaned up.”

“Yep.”

Fuck.

“When you get back from Philly I’d like to take a look at the house. Do you have cameras around the property?” If not, I’d install some.

“I do now.”

“What are the names of the people you bought the house from?”

“George Calvin Jr. and Brittney Peterson. Brittney follows my YouTube channel and has commented on the renovation videos.”

“George?”

“Not that I’ve seen. Though he could use a screenname.”

I had all I needed to get started.

Now, while I had the chance to walk out of there without my cock stiff and protesting our exit, it was time to leave.

“I’ll text you so you have my number. Let me know when you get back and have time to hit the Grasonville house.”

“That’s it?”

“For now. I’ll start running the former owners, see what I can find on them.”

“No personal bodyguard? Around-the-clock caretaker?”

So much for walking out of here without a hard-on.

“Is that what you want, Aria? Twenty-four-seven close cover?”

What the fuck was I doing?

Disengage.

“Well…it would probably make Captain Taylor feel better knowing I had protection. This could get dangerous. Having you close would give him peace of mind.”

That spark was back in her eyes, triggering a hundred fantasies of how else I could get those brown eyes to catch fire.

“Trust me, beautiful, your father would lose his mind if he knew just how close I wanted to get to his daughter.”

The corners of her mouth curved up and, fuck me, I wanted to taste her lips.

Abort. Mission.

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