Page 43 of Shadowing Her Stalker

The door opened and Cara poked her head in. “Hey. I tried to let you sleep, but I couldn’t wait any longer.”

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Feet planted firmly on the floor, he scrubbed the sleep from his face with his palm. “No. I should be up.” He checked the time on his phone. Seven thirty. He’d slept for a few hours, but it still didn’t feel adequate. “You get any sleep?”

She smirked and shrugged. “Some here, some there. Restless.”

“Fretting,” he corrected.

“I think I’m entitled.”

Her retort was sharp enough to jolt him fully awake. “Of course you are.”

“Sorry.” She glanced over her shoulder, then returned her temple to its resting spot on the door frame. “My mother always says I get snappy when I haven’t had a good night’s rest.” She paused long enough to roll her eyes. “I hate it when she’s right about me.”

“Parents. They think they know everything.” He pushed to his feet and stretched. “I suppose yours have been hard at work for hours?”

She nodded. “Dad said if you want, he’d take you out again later.”

Wyatt nodded and scratched his stubbly cheek. “I’d like that.”

“They left biscuits and sausage gravy for you.”

“Great.” Then he caught her wording and paused. “Left? Did your mom leave?”

Cara’s eyebrows shot up. “Was she under house arrest?”

“No, I thought...” He trailed off, his ears burning.

“You thought she stayed here all day making stew and doing the mending?” she teased.

“No. I mean, I know she handles the paperwork and such, I didn’t know she did, uh, work out there.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. He clamped his mouth shut. He was digging himself deeper with every single word. “I need coffee.”

Cara took mercy on him. “I’ll pour you a mug. Mama went to pick up some wire fencing they need for repairs. She’ll be back by noon, but I warn you it’s Daddy’s day to cook, so it’ll be cold cuts for lunch and something grilled for supper.”

Wyatt inclined his head to indicate her message was received. The Beckett Ranch was an equal opportunity operation. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Clear the cobwebs.”

“Go for it,” she said, pushing away from the doorjamb. “I only wanted to get my phone.”

“Your phone?”

“My cellular device?” she prompted. “I don’t want to take the chance of anyone tracing the landline, remember?”

“Right, but who are you going to call?”

This time, only one brow rose. “Do I have to clear it with you?”

The icy edge in the question had him straightening his shoulders. “No, but it would help things if you kept me in the loop.”

“I’d like to call my assistant, if you don’t mind,” she returned with a sniff.

As if on cue, the phone sang out its generic ringtone. Cara raised an eyebrow at him, then let her gaze trail over to the phone lit up atop the dresser. The display showed Zarah’s number. “Speak of the devil. It’s Zarah,” she informed him, swiping to accept the call.

“Put it on speaker?” He did his best to phrase it as a request rather than a demand, but it could have gone either way. Thankfully, Cara complied.

“Hey, Z. You’re on speaker and my pal Wyatt is here,” she said, darting a glance at him. They’d agreed to play their relationship to one another off as friendship in case someone was listening in.

“Cara! I can’t believe it,” Zarah said in a rush. “Is it true it’s a total loss? Your beautiful house. It was so adorable. I’m heartbroken.”

Cara’s eyes darted to his and Wyatt scowled. He tapped the mute button then said, “We need to think for a minute about how much you should say to people. Can you tell her you’ll call her back? Let me get a cup of coffee and kick-start my brain.”

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