Page 40 of Call Back

My first reaction was horror. Colt was a fucking traitor.

“Tonight behind Stringer’s in the industrial park in Franklin.”

I tugged my T-shirt over my head and slipped my arms into the shirt, quickly securing the buttons as I continued to listen.

“I’m not bringing all of it. Just one bar to prove I have it. But we can’t be seen together. Send me the amount we agreed upon for the one bar, and I’ll leave it behind the barrel in front of Space #145. You can pick it up after eleven o’clock. Then contact me later and we’ll negotiate the terms for the rest.”

I peeked out through the crack. Colt’s back was to me and his phone was pressed to his ear.

He started to turn around and I backed up, trying to control my anger. But the anger faded as quickly as it had sprung up. This was probably part of his master plan. Make a phone call while I was in the other room so the people behind the cameras would believe I didn’t know anything. But he also said he was setting up a plan for tonight, and I suspected that was because he was trying to keep me out of harm’s way. I was going to confront him later.

Since I didn’t know when I’d be moving back in, I grabbed a couple of days’ worth of clothes and stuffed them into my last bag. Then I left the room and found Colt opening a cabinet door. “You really need to have more food options.”

“I’ve been busy.”

Colt glanced over with a grin, but something shifted in his eyes when he saw the deep V of my shirt. “I’m almost ready,” I said. “I need to grab a hair tie out of the bathroom.”

I grabbed one out of the bathroom drawer and slid it over my wrist. Before leaving, I did up another button on my shirt. Colt was standing in the middle of the living room when I walked back out, and he snagged my arm.

“You still sleepin’ at Detective Bennett’s place tonight?”

I wasn’t sure staying with Brady was the best idea after Emily’s murder, but I had nowhere else to go. “Yeah.”

“Why the hesitation? Having second thoughts?”

What was he doing? “I’m not discussing my love life with you.”

“Come on, Magnolia,” he said playfully. “You love it when I talk dirty to you in bed.”

His mouth lowered to my neck again, sending shivers down my back. The haughty comeback died on my lips.

I pressed my palms to his chest, meaning to push him away. Some distant part of my brain screamed at me to step away, but the rest of me needed this, needed Colt. I’d always figured there would be explosive chemistry between us, but this was a terrible idea. Yet, I stayed in place, tilting back my head to give him better access while releasing a low moan.

“So tell me yes,” he murmured, moving to my ear and sucking my earlobe between his lips. “Tell me you’ll go with me.”

“Colt . . .” I had no idea what he was talking about. What was the right response?

“It’s just a masquerade ball,” he said a little louder this time. “Borrow a dress from Belinda. Plus, she’ll be there too, so you’ll have someone to talk to while I’m networking it up.”

I leaned back to search his face. “You want me to go to the Middle Tennessee Children’s Charity Masquerade Ball on Saturday night?”

A sexy grin spread across his face. “Do you know of any other masquerade balls?”

“No, but it doesn’t seem like your kind of thing.”

“Because I don’t have money?” he asked dryly. “We both know that’s about to change. I need to socialize. Network.”

I froze. That was exactly what my father had done years ago. What if . . .

“Belinda says this is big. Everyone will be there. Momma’s gonna want us to work.”

“I already have the night off, and you know she doesn’t really need you.” His lips skimmed my cheek, inching closer to my lips. “It’s time for you to plan your future, Magnolia, and we both know Southern Belles Catering is not it.”

“Then what is my future?” I asked, momentarily forgetting we were being watched. “A recording contract with you?”

“You’re not thinking big enough, Maggie Mae,” he said with a chuckle. “One million in gold will get us a hell of a lot more than that.”

I looked away. “Yeah.”

“So you’ll come?”

If most of Franklin society would be there, I could ask questions disguised as small talk. “Yeah,” I said, looking up into his crystal blue eyes. “I’ll go.”

Why did I feel like I’d just made a deal with the devil?

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