Page 63 of Texting My Valentine

I stand up and turn to see Alex wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt. He’s got a slight smile on his face, his eyes glimmering. For once, his muscles aren’t tense, though they’re still huge, round, and hard, and I might be drooling a little.

“Don’t let me stop you,” he says with emotion. “In fact…” He takes out his phone. “This could be a perfect time for some pictures.”

I smooth my hand through my hair. “I’m still wearing last night’s clothes, and I haven’t showered.”

He walks across the room and cradles my face in his hands. “You always look beautiful. You could spend years in a dungeon, no shower, no shaving, no nothing, and you’d still be the most gorgeous woman in this city.”

“The most gorgeous woman in Miami? Are you kidding?”

“Not even a little bit.”

I try not to listen to the warning signals in my brain and my heart and try to use logic to ignore all the times Mom was swept off her feet with words just like this. She gave in far too easily, but the obstacle I invented—the whole ‘Elliot is fake thing’—has come crashing down.

What’s stopping me now except my terror of an unhappily never after?

After helping Elliot with his homework, he goes to get ready for school. Alex, Mom, and I meet with Gray Hedges, the leader of the security team that Alex has hired. Gray is around fifty, on the skinnier side but fit, with an open-carry pistol on his hip. He wears a khaki T-shirt and cargo pants, giving him a military look.

“The Kents are well-known to be mid-range criminals,” he says, standing in the middle of the living room. “They’ve got their fingers in lots of pots. Dealing in off-brand merchandise, they own a garage where they take stolen cars for the parts. But this—targeting civilians for harassment—is new.”

“It’s my fault,” Mom says.

“Don’t say that,” I tell her.

“Let’s be honest about the situation,” Mom bristles. “I’m the one who cheated.”

“So you had a bad relationship,” I say. “That doesn’t give his son the right to stalk and harass us. It doesn’t give them the right to vandalize Alex’s home.”

“She’s right, ma’am,” Gray notes.

“Please, call me Monica.”

Gray smiles. “Okay, Monica…”

Mom smiles, too. The way they’re looking at each other conjures up countless memories. Is Mom smitten already? I bury my natural response, though. She could just be grateful for his support.

“I understand you want three teams,” Gray says to Alex. “The son is still at large, but Kent Senior hasn’t been seen for some time.”

Mom swallows audibly.

“Yes,” Alex says. “One for Monica, one for Elliot, and one for Tori. I want them to be able to live their lives as normally as possible while knowing they’re safe.”

“I still think you need a team,” I murmur.

Alex winks at me. “This is my way of getting us to spend more time together, remember?”

A natural smile spreads across my face, making my cheeks feel like they’re glowing. A moment later, though, it drops when a depressing thought hits me. Do I look how Mom just did, all smitten, all excited, allgullible?

“We specialize in nonintrusive protection,” Gray explains. “We recommend saving our numbers to your cell phones. We have a system in which all you have to do is text us, and we will come running. It doesn’t matter what you send; it can be gibberish. We’ll come running if you call us and don’t say anything or if we hear anything suspicious. Our main goal is to keep you and your family safe.”

“Good,” Alex affirms.

“Excuse me for asking,” I say. “But how much do you cost per day?”

Gray glances at Alex.

“Tori, it doesn’t matter,” Alex says gruffly.

“Itdoes,” I tell him. “We brought this problem to your door. We don’t want to bankrupt you.”

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