Page 26 of Sinful Promise
“Tim?” Fletch asks.
“Felix?” Aubree volunteers second. But hers comes with a sneer. “Tell me that asshole has eaten a poisoned apple and died all alone in a dark forest.”
“Cato,” Minka answers quieter. For me. “He has your number, right?”
“Of course.” I make a mental note to call my youngest brother before the day is over, then I push out of my chair and press a fast kiss to my wife’s lips. She abhors affection in the workplace, which means I take it when I can get it. In other words, I’m forced to steal when the opportunity arises. “I’ll check in with him soon. Thanks for running Patterson so quickly.”
She smells good. And feels good. Her breath tastes like flowers on my tongue, and this close, looking into her eyes is like staring into a pool of chocolate. “We didn’t give you anything that’ll help.”
“Itallhelps.” And because she’s not mad about the first kiss, I lean in for a second, gentler one on the corner of her lips. “We’re going to see the wife now, then I’m coming to find you.” I lower my voice and study her gaze. “You look tired enough to collapse,Minnnka. So we’re going home early today, doing your meds, and chilling the fuck out.”
Her lips curl up on one side. “Sure, Mother.”
“I’ll see you soon.” Spinning on my feet and starting toward the door, I glance over to Fletch. “Let’s go. Whitney at home or work?”
“Home.” He musses Aubree’s hair as he passes, so her hiss is the last thing we hear as we exit the office. “Seems Mrs. Patterson runs her own cleaning company, one of those one-person operations. And she only works three days a week, likely for pocket money.”
He stops by the elevator a single step ahead of me, slapping the call button. But while he does that, I turn back and watch Minka through her glass wall.
The shadows under her eyes, and the exhaustion etched in her face. The way she slumps, when normally, she’s so strong and proud.
We’ve been on the go since the moment we met… working till our brains bled and our sleep schedules simply died. Add in an impromptu visit to New York, a dead father, a mafia black-tie event, a blood disorder she must medicate every second day of her life, and slamming a blade into a pedophile’s heart late last night…
It’s no wonder she’s moving a little slower than usual.
“Arch?”
“Yeah.” I turn at my partner’s voice, only to find him standing half-in, half-out of the elevator so his foot stops the door from sliding closed. “Let’s go, Romeo. Leave her alone. She’ll still be there when we’re done with Whitney Patterson.”
He’s right. I know he is. But I still twist back and meet her eyes through the glass.
Copeland City sprawls out over her shoulder; the city we both chose after leaving lives that no longer suited us. It’s funny, we both have ties to New York City. That’s where we were born. It’s the city our families chose. But it wasn’t until she got off a plane in Copeland that we ever met.
Knowing I’m on the clock, and my newest homicide victim is cooling off on the second floor, I wink so a soft blush fills Minka’s cheeks. Then I turn on my heels and head into the elevator. “Whitney?”
“Self-employed, part-time work. No criminal record. No unpaid fines. She went back to school a couple of years ago for a standard BA in business. Two kids. She was the stay-at-home parent for their early years, then when it was time to get out again, she got a degree and began her business. She’s volunteered at her kids’ schools a day or two every week since elementary.”
“She seems solid.”
When the elevator stops on the lobby level, we step out and start toward the massive revolving doors at the front of the building.
“PTA mom,” he continues. “She volunteered for sports programs, and ran the choir in middle school for a couple of years.”
“You got a lot.” Moving through the glass door with a frown, and stepping into sunlight outside, I head to the driver’s side of our car and slide in. “How?”
“Social media, bruh.” Loping into the passenger seat with a laugh, he takes out his phone and scrolls… scrolls… scrolls. “People have zero fucking sense these days when it comes to privacy. I’m amazed she hasn’t posted a screenshot of her credit card or social security number.”
“Probably saves that for email and Persian princes.” Starting the car, I look through the windshield, but I wait for Fletch to fix the GPS so I know where to go. “How’s Mia handling all this talk about Jada coming home?”
“Goddddd.” Like my question is a reminder, he sets his phone in the holder so I see the map, then he tilts his head back and grunts. “She thinks Jada’s been away on a fucking vacation, Arch. Now Mommy’s coming home, and everything’s gonna be wonderful.”
I pull out of the George Stanley driveway and into traffic. “If Jada’s back, does that mean you’re gonna let the nanny go? She kinda becomes redundant, no?”
“Fuck no. Penny’s staying forever, because it took me forever to find her. Plus, I’m never tempted to hit on her, and she’s the only constant my baby has.” Opening his eyes, he rolls his head my way. “I’ll go hungry before I let her leave. With or without Jada around, Penny has a job in my home.”
“And if Jada wants Moo full-time?” I turn left when the GPS instructs me to, and settle back as we get away from the main thoroughfare and traffic thins out. “You gonna go back to being a part-time daddy?”
“No.” Tension sits thick in the air before he adds, “Jada’s gonna have to take me to court to get Mia out of my home.”
