Page 48 of Reckless Single Daddy

Wanting to maintain my professionalism, I didn’t share any of this personal info with my clients. I just explained to them that I’d be out of the office for the week with my son. They don’t need to know where. From where they’re sitting, I’m a doting father, which Iam, but they don’t need the details.

I also managed to convince Sloane to stay with me permanently until this whole thing is resolved. The security measures at her parents’ house have turned out to be more for her parents’ safety than Sloane’s, since I asked her if she’d come stay with me after I had the cameras put in around the perimeter of the house.

“Promise me you won’t start obsessing about this,” Sloane pleads with me.

I want to tell her I won’t, but I don’t want to lie to her, either. We’re finally being more honest with each other, and as terrible as it sounds, I can’t deny that there is a good chance I’m obsessing over her safety until we catch this guy. It feels like the more wiggle room I’m being allotted by the police department, the more likely I’ll be up all night, searching through that footage on the flash drive.

“I can’t promise that,” I admit. She will understand why I’m doing this, and why I’m willing to go through countless hours of security footage for her, working tirelessly until this creep is caught.

“I just don’t want you to forget yourself while you’re playing super-agent again,” she says.

I smile, placing my hand on her knee. It’s sweet that she’d rather I prioritize my well-being over her own, but what she doesn’t know is her well-being helps my own well-being. If she isn’t safe, I’ll go mad, and if she’s hurt, I’ll wreak absolute havoc. I won’t hesitate to end this person with my bare hands if it means keeping her safe.

After a moment, I kiss her cheek and stand up. “No worrying, okay? That’s my job,” I say before I walk into the office to begin huddling in front of my computer.

I insert the flash drive into the tower. I sigh as I open the file, noticing the vast amount of files inside it. It’s no wonder it was taking them so long to get through all of it.

But there is a key difference between me and the local cops from the department: I work smarter, not harder. Locating the email Sloane received, I look for the timestamp for when it was sent and begin to match it to the footage I have in the file. The great thing about that is it will weed out the footage we don’t need, thus narrowing it down to a smaller pool.

I spend a good while sifting through the footage in the hope that the timestamp will eventually match the email’s. Here’s the thing, though: I’m allowing the stamp to have a little leeway, as we have to account for writing and the sending time, whether it was slower that day or for something else entirely. The important thing is that we can’t be too exact on the time. Otherwise, we could lose valuable data here.

I don’t get through all of the footage that night, so naturally, as the sun peeks over the horizon, I’m reminded that I spent all night looking at security footage and have to pick up David at the airport in a few hours. I yawn and stretch my arms over my head, knowing I’ll be scolded by Sloane for staying up this late, but I didn’t promise her I would be in bed last night.

But I must be crazy, right? Sloane doesn’t live here on a daily basis, and it will be only a matter of time before she returns to the city. Am I willing to keep this type of schedule to find her stalker while she is staying in my home—my bed—alone? I’mhoping that with time, I won’t have to do this. I’m hoping there will come a time when I won’t have to worry and can enjoy a life of comfortable bliss with Sloane and Liam. But right now, I have to make sure they’re safe.

Yes, even Liam could be in danger. While the stalker’s main object of obsession is Sloane, I’m willing to bet it is only a matter of time before they target her family next. And Liam would be the easiest target because he’s a kid. Or maybe Landon, Mike’s son. But regardless of who they plan to target next, the important thing is we get a handle on it, and fast.

Sloane comes downstairs just as I’m stepping out of the office. She stares at me tiredly, but doesn’t ask questions. I told her yesterday that I wouldn’t rest until this person is caught, and I meant it. I follow her into the kitchen as she rummages around to find the coffee. She starts making some for both of us, knowing I’ll certainly need it.

“A good friend of mine, David, is coming into town to help with the stalker situation,” I tell her as she passes me my cup, made just the way I like it. I take a sip and hum with pleasure as the taste engulfs my senses and rejuvenates my energy.

She nurses her cup, then takes a sip of her own coffee. “I guess the more help we bring in, the quicker this will all be over,” she says, and I nod, knowing she would understand. “Perhaps it will help lessen the load on you, too.”

I put my cup down as I sense a discussion coming along. I get that her concerns come from a good place, but I really can’t stop obsessing over finding this person. “I get you’re concerned—” I start.

“Cade, I am more than concerned,” she cuts me off. “This is happening to me, and I’m terrified, but I don’t want you risking yourself for me.”

I shake my head in disbelief. Does she not know that I’d do anything for her? That I’d move mountains or jet her off to anywhere in the world right now if she wanted me to? My protectiveness knows no bounds as far as the lengths I’ll go to keep my family safe—and I consider Sloane my family now. I will not let this person win and get what they want.

“Sloane…” My voice trails away as I attempt to collect my thoughts, to put into words what I’m feeling, but I think I know exactly what it is. I’m just worried it’s a little premature, but who cares at this point?

I step around the island and stand in front of her. I take her hands in mine, and she meets my gaze. “Sloane, I can’t ignore this like you want me to. It isn’t just that the CIA is rooted in my DNA. It’s so much deeper than that.”

I take a deep breath, trying to will myself to say the words despite what that could mean for our relationship. Will she run off? Will she decide that this is all moving too fast? I don’tknow. But what I do know is I have an obligation to continue to be honest, even if it means I’m placing myself in a vulnerable position. I promised myself I would get better.

I take another deep breath and just say it. “I’m falling in love with you, Sloane, and I’m not able to ignore what is happening right now because that’s the only thing that’s fueling me through this investigation. Knowing that my feelings are becoming very real and I’m scared to lose you because I didn’t do everything I could to protect you, that’s what’s why I have to risk it all. That’s what you do when you love someone.”

Sloane looks at me, clearly taken aback by my confession. I realize that I might have just ended this whole thing here and now by saying these words, but I also know Sloane. If she isn’t ready to take the leap, she won’t, but she won’t walk away from me, either. That’s not who she is.

“I don’t know what to say,” she replies. She looks like she’s feeling the weight of my words resting on her shoulders, which wasn’t my intent. I understand that whenever someone reveals their feelings to another, it puts pressure on the person they confessed to.

“You don’t have to say anything,” I say quickly. “I’m okay with going at your pace. I only told you where I stood so you could understand that regardless of how badly you want me to slow down and take time to breathe through this investigation, I can’t, because my feelings for you prevent me from doing so.”

She looks down and nods, processing my words and what this confession means for me. What it means for us.

I step away and press a kiss to her cheek, reminding her that I’m here for her and am willing to wait for her to be where I’m at for as long as I have to.

For now, though, I have a stalker to catch.

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