Page 64 of Vow of Obsession

"I came to your city when you ghosted me. I'll stick around for a bit."

“I didn’t ghost you.” Warren took my phone, and maybe she slipped my mind for a second, but things got crazy, and I had too much champagne.

“We’ll meet you,” Cosima cuts in. “You trust her, right?”

“I trust her.”

“Then, we meet her.” Cosima smirks, snapping her fingers. “The shopping trip. That’s a good cover.”

“I can’t lie to my husband.”

“We’ll still shop, obviously.”

“I hate shopping,” Marks mutters.

“You’re on the phone. No shopping for you. I clearly need to be in charge of this operation.” Cosima glances at me. “Or you roll out a window while we try to do it.” Both she and Marks burst into laughter.

“Shopping places don’t have windows that open and close,” I say dryly. I bite the inside of my cheek so I don't laugh with them. I'm not indulging in this, though I do love that the two of them are clicking.

“I still think you’d find a way.” Cosima shakes her head at me.

“She would,” Marks says through laughter.

“Are you two done?” I ask.

“Done? We’re just getting started.” The wicked smile on Cosima’s face makes me wonder how much we’re all about to bite off and chew. I know it’s definitely going to be more than we can handle.

“I don’t want to know any of the details of the phone handoff or the meetup. As far as I’m concerned, this is just a shopping trip. I’m not lying to Warren.” If they don’t tell me any of the ins and outs of their plan, then I’m not being untruthful to Warren. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

“I see where you’re going with this. It’s probably best if Marks and I plan the shopping trip,” Cosima uses air quotes. “That way you have plausible deniability and all.” She smiles wide, so damn pleased with her little plan.

The last thing I think this shopping trip is going to be is little.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

WARREN

This is what I get for being nice. I should have killed the little shit that night. He’s been a pain in my ass for the past month. It's now time for his own father to take responsibility for his son's actions.

Bobby is now a disgraced officer. When I'd found out it was him playing games and pitching a fit over the fact he'd been banned from Bourbon Street and the punishment I'd doled out, I had the police chief fire his ass.

It was a light punishment. The punishment consisted of a couple of broken fingers and a face that had seen better days. I could have thrown him in the river, but I called his dad, who said he'd take care of it. That didn’t happen, so now it will be handled my way. Once and for all.

“Fucking hate technology,” Ronan mutters to himself, glaring at his phone.

“Are you all right over there?” Ronan is leaning back on the couch in my office, his feet kicked up on the table.

“Could my thumbs be too big for my phone? I’m always hitting the wrong shit, and now I think it’s freezing.”

"Have Z take a look at it."

"Have me look at what?" Z comes strolling into my office next.

"His phone."

"It's fine." Ronan waves him off.

"Don't want me to see what kind of porn you watch while you're jacking off?" Ronan flips him the bird. "And this isn't a barn." He knocks Ronan's feet off the table.

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