Page 38 of Emerald

Nash pinches his nose. “She’s one of the event organizers. I had to purchase a ticket to the event, which was five grand. She was free.”

“Was going to say, that wasn’t a five grand worthy fuck. I’d be wanting my money back if it was.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my fucking dick.”

I shrug. “Okay,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“You are fucking infuriating.”

“I know.”

His hands beside him turn into fists. “Brooks has to be punking me sending you here,” he says, looking me up and down.

“I appreciate you putting your dick on the line for me.”

Nash shakes his head. “She only had one ticket. I think I should go, scout the party, and find out where your friend is. Ifshe was trafficked, she might be there or at the after party, they like to use the women as favors.”

“I know,” I sneer.

His brows pull together at my tone. “Do you have a photo of your friend?”

“No.”

“No? It doesn’t have to be a recent one,” he explains.

“Like I said, I don’t have any photos of her. Guess I’ll have to move to my plan and get my own invite.”

“No,” he answers.

I shrug. “I don’t really care what you say.”

He pinches his nose again. “Ellie, please let me check it out, get in with them, and see if I can be invited to the next party.”

“I’m not a patient person. I’m not waiting. I shouldn’t have listened to Sophie. I work better on my own,” I grumble.

“You don’t have an ounce of preservation, do you?”

“Why? Because the big, old, grumpy man doesn’t scare me. Please. I’ve been surrounded by worse people than you.”

“I’m not old,” he argues.

“You are compared to me, so …”

Nash throws his hands up in the air. “I’ve had enough for one night.” He walks away from my room.

Good. The last thing I need is for him to be suspicious and start messing up my plans.

Nash is workingout in his makeshift beach bum gym. His shirt is off, and the tattoos and scars are showing across his tanned, muscular body. For an older guy he’s still quite buff, he has a nice six-pack, and I can see each muscle strain as he works out.Not a bad sight. He stiffens when he sees me standing there looking at him.

“Morning,” I call out. I get a gruff nod as he resumes his workout. Last night I messed up when he touched me, for one second, instinct kicked in and I didn’t think. A reporter shouldn’t be able to do those moves. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“I’m finished anyway, it’s all yours.” He grunts.

“Nash,” I call his name as I grab his large bicep with my fingers. He shrugs me off and walks inside. Shit. I’ve really pissed him off. “Hey, what the hell is your problem?” I yell after him as I follow him inside.

“Nothing. Nothing is my fucking problem,” he says as he continues walking through his home, ignoring me.

“Yeah, sure sounds like it.” I follow him.

---