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That’s a tall order, since I battle the unbearable urge to kiss her when she so much as opens her mouth. And I’ve come mighty close to doing so over the last few days.
I don’t know what keeps coming over me to make me touch her like that. Last night, I was one moan away from carting her over my shoulder like a caveman. From the smoky, intoxicated look in her brown eyes, I got the feeling she would havewantedit.
But a promise is a promise.
Until she comes right out and admits that she’s inclined to go there, I’ll hold my peace. Pushing myself on her isn’t just a sure way to scare her off, it’s an invitation for a harassment suit.
Frowning, I return to the living room with my coffee. After rummaging around, I grab a pen and an index card. I’m not as organized as Nova, but I have picked up on her habit of writing lists.
Most Important Tasks This Week:
#1 Find Alexa.
#2 Hire Nova’s sister.
#3 Convince Nova to stay.
I stare at the list. The third will definitely be the hardest, but it’s the one I’m most determined to accomplish.
The first is more of a personal curiosity than a burning need, but I can’t shake the thought that there’s more to Rowan showing up on my doorstep than Alexa is letting on.
Yesterday, the kid let it slip that something might be wrong with his mom. I don’t know what kind of trouble Alexa’s gotten into, but I’m definitely going to find out.
Picking up my phone, I navigate to the number that Darrel Hastings gave me yesterday.
While the women were chatting and the kids were playing a near-violent game ofUNO, I took Hastings aside to ask about recommendations for a PI. I figured his connections to the military would give me some great leads.
‘This is one of my college buddies. He’s former military and has his own successful security company. They do everything from personal bodyguards to cyber protection. You can call him any time.’
I check my watch. It’s pretty early, but Darrel did assure me that I could call Clay Bolton ‘any time’. I’d like to get this done before Nova wakes up. Although I have no romantic attachments to Alexa, I still feel uneasy asking Nova to be a liaison between me and my old girlfriend.
The line rings twice.
Then there’s a click.
“Who is this?”
At Bolton’s brusque voice, I immediately picture a bear in hibernation getting stabbed with a stick and waking up with a roar.
I’m a little intimidated, but I keep my voice steady. “Clay Bolton? I’m Adam Harrison. Darrel gave me your number.”
The human-bear on the other end of the line calms a smidge. Not enough to make me any less intimidated, but at least it doesn’t sound like he wants to reach through the phone and choke me.
Bolton grunts. “Why’d he do that?”
“I need to find someone. Discreetly. Darrel assured me you were the best in the business.”
“Darrel has a big mouth.”
I blink in shock.
Out of all the guys yesterday, Darrel spoke the least. And that’s saying something, because neither Alistair, Sazuki, or Stinton are conversationalists.
“Can you help me?” I prod.
Something rustles. It sounds like a mattress creaks and a door opens and shuts. “I don’t normally handle cases personally, but since Darrel sent you, I’ll make an exception. Tell me the details.”
I share everything I know.
