“Oh? What was the truth? Because I can’t see anything that wasn’t built on a lie.”
I cup her other cheek with my hand so I’m cradling her face and gently tipping it up so I can look into her eyes. “Every time he told you he loved you, Beckett, that was the truth.”
Her eyes fill again. “You didn’t even know him. His actions don’t speak of someone in love.”
“There’s no doubt in my mind that he did, Beckett. I know what he did was wrong, but there is no way he held you and wasn’t hopelessly in love.”
As I speak the words, my own confession unexpectedly comes out between the lines. Is that where I’m at?
Helplessly in love with the woman before me?
She shuts her eyes tightly. “I?—”
A sharp knock on the front door breaks through the moment, and I pull away, making my way toward the door to look through the peephole. It’s still too early for my mom to drop by.
Which means—fresh anger washes over me when I see the woman standing on the other side, her arms crossed, a frustrated expression on her face. I turn toward Beckett. “It’s Lauren,” I say softly.
Her expression darkens, and she nods. “Let her in.”
“Are you sure?”
She nods again, then takes a deep breath like a fighter prepared to go a few rounds. This time, I won’t let it even get to one. The moment she starts slinging insults, I’ll throw her out of my house without any remorse.
After using my thumb to disengage the lock on the small safe I keep near the door, I reach inside and withdraw a firearm, keeping it in my hand but behind my back.
Paul’s daughter or not—we don’t have proof of that yet—this woman still works for Lucian Creed. And I wouldn’t put it past him to change his mind and send someone after us. I wouldn’t have expected it to be a twenty-two-year-old, but we can’t be too careful.
She knocks again, so I pull the door open.
“It’s cold out here,” she says.
“And it’s going to stay cold unless you check your tone. You’re coming intomyhouse, and you will behave respectfully; otherwise, you’ll leave. Clear?”
A bit of the ice on her expression melts. “Clear.”
I step aside, and she moves into the house. Beckett is still standing in the same spot, expression hard, arms crossed.
“How did you find us?” Beckett demands.
“It wasn’t that hard once I looked him up,” Lauren retorts with a glare in my direction.
I take a deep breath.This is going to be a long day.“Would you like coffee?” I offer, trying to keep the mood as light as I can.
“Sure. Thanks.”
Breakfast abandoned, I set my weapon within reach then put the eggs, cheese, and veggies back inside the fridge, then pour three mugs of coffee. In Beckett’s, I add cream, honey, and a dash of cinnamon—just how I saw her make it yesterday.
“Cream?” I ask Lauren.
“Yeah. Thanks.” She sets her bag down near the door and remains right there, staring at Beckett.
The two women face off, and I wonder if Beckett is seeing Paul when she looks at his daughter.“She has his eyes.”
“Here.” I offer Lauren her cup, then retrieve my weapon and take Beckett’s to her. Together, we move toward the kitchen table, and Lauren finally moves farther into the house, taking a seat opposite Beckett.
“You planning to shoot me, cop?” she snaps, glaring at the weapon then at me.
“Not unless you give me a reason to believe you’re a threat,” I reply.
