Page 111 of The Re-Proposal

“He’s a smooth-talker. He convinced me to stay put against my better judgement.”

“I’d say blindly beating someone to within an inch of their life unprovoked would be poor judgement.”

“While it was the original plan, we came up with another.”

“Which was?”

I glance over, admiring the way the lights play against her supple brown skin. “You saw the first part.”

“Bringing the security team to the foundation,” she muses.

“We wanted to make sure Hatchen didn’t cause trouble at your place of business. It was a good call too. He came all the way to the front door at three p.m. this afternoon, but he turned back when he saw security.”

She pins those chocolate silk eyes on me. “How did you know what he was doing at three p.m.?”

I grip the steering wheel tighter.

She pieces it together on her own. “You didn’t have someone tailing me. You put a tail onhim.”

I pause. “Why didn’t you tell me what he did to you?”

She faces the window.

“Why did you hide it from me, Ris?” I press.

The hospital’s lights come into view.

“We’re here,” she says with a hint of relief.

“Clarissa.”

“Where are we supposed to pick up Joel?”

I narrow my eyes. “We?”

“Yes, we. You’re covered in blood and have bruised knuckles. Unless you plan to get photographed, I’m the one who needs to go in for him. Besides, you’re still treating him like a stranger. He can’t run to you after a hard day.Someoneneeds to show him a friendly face.”

I don’t like the thought of Clarissa showing a friendlyanythingto Joel. The kid has a big mouth and a crush on her a mile wide.

She pops out of the car before I can find a parking spot. “I’ll get him while you park.”

“Clarissa, wait,” I say.

But she hurries off, disappearing inside the hospital.

* * *

By the timeI find a parking spot and climb out, she and Joel are already wheeling toward me.

The teenager is staring up at her with a besotted look. He’s wearing a grey T-shirt over a threadbare pair of jeans. His hair is so long that it’s flapping in his face. The mullet is a… brave choice.

I climb out of the car.

Joel’s only got eyes for Ris and doesn’t notice me until I clear my throat. Even then, he doesn’t glance my way.

“Bolton,” he says absently.

“You know, in public, you should probably call me something other than Bolton,” I mutter.

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