Page 62 of Sweet Sin

I nod. “It has to do with me and my family. Which is why I think I can help.”

“And I’m telling you no,” Falcon says in a demanding tone.

“You’ve got to stop that, Fal,” Leif says. “I’m married to a woman who’s just as strong as I am in a completely different way. If I needed her help, she’d be there. And she’d use everything at her disposal. It seems you’ve got a good woman here—”

“Wait, wait, wait.” I hold up my hand. “I’m not his woman.”

“Oh?”

“She’s right,” Falcon says. “We don’t have any understanding between us. Only the day. The moment.”

And a pseudo-marriage proposal that he seems to have forgotten.

“Fine. Have it your way.” Leif looks at Falcon, and then at me.

I haven’t known Falcon long, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling something amazing. I’m probably falling in love with him—with my ex-parolee—who’s in trouble now because of me.

If I had any sense in my head I’d let him go.

I’d go home to Austin, fix this, and never set foot in Summer Creek, Texas again.

And if that’s what I must do to help Falcon? I will.

19

FALCON

“You’re clear,” Leif says.

“You’re fucking sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking sure. I just spent the last hour and a half going over every inch of this place with a fine-tooth comb. There isn’t any surveillance equipment here. Not anywhere. No microphones, no cameras, no bugs in your landline. You’re good, Falcon. Trust me. I’m trained to do this. I’ve done it for the Wolfe family the last couple of years.”

“All right. Thanks, man.”

Leif’s wife, Kelly—a gorgeous woman with auburn hair and blue eyes—is having a drink with Savannah before dinner in the family room area.

It’s a gorgeous Texas day, but we can’t go outside. Crime scene.

We join the ladies in the family room where they’re sitting together on my leather couch, Sydney at Savannah’s feet and Sammy cuddling in Kelly’s lap.

“We’re good,” I say to Savannah.

Savannah’s rigid composure visibly softens. “Good. That’s a relief.”

“So how did you two meet?” I ask.

“She just got done telling me the story,” Savannah says. “It’s intense.”

“Yeah,” Kelly says. “Not sure I’m up for repeating it, but Leif, you can tell him.”

“Kelly here…” Leif pauses and frowns. “Well, you were in prison, but you know the billionaire Derek Wolfe who was murdered last year?”

“Yeah. You hear things on the inside.” I take a sip of my bourbon—to hell with parole rules. “But some of the things about Wolfe can’t possibly be true.”

“Oh… they’re true,” Kelly says.

“Fuck,” I say.

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