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“Yes.”
“We can’t just pick up and leave,” Gavin says slowly. “It will look like we’re running from Alexandra’s accusations. And shit, from your ex.”
I draw a deep breath and gently move Ginger from my lap. Then I stand. “I know it’s not the best timing for our fake engagement, but I need a break from the city. I’m sure Margaret will find a way to spin the story.”
“Kayla …”
I wait for him to add the words I need you, or I’m hopelessly in love with you.
But would that change anything?
“I’ll come with you,” he says finally. “We can go as soon as you’re packed and ready.”
“You don’t need to—”
“I’m coming with you,” he repeats. “But I would like to stay at my house.”
“The last time I was over there it looked like you were preparing for a feature in Architectural digest. Your décor won’t recover from the claws and pet hair.”
“I don’t give a damn about my furniture, Kayla. I need to keep fighting Alexandra and her crazy media circus. If we go to my place, Margaret can issue a statement that I whisked you away after the distressing encounter with you ex.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I’m the distressed one? You hit him.”
The corner of his mouth turns up. “Okay. We’ll say you whisked me away to keep me from killing your ex in a jealous rage.”
“Jason lives in Westchester,” I point out. “We’ll be closer to him up there.”
“We’ll make the narrative work. There’s not much I wouldn’t do for you, Kayla. You know that.”
Except show the world who you really are.
“Thank you,” I say. Now isn’t the time to tell him that one trip to the country won’t erase the fact that Gavin Black is a prisoner to his past. The psychologist’s prediction came true in many ways. Every decision he makes protects his secrets.
And leaving the city won’t change the fact that I refuse to be trapped by my past.
CHAPTER 20
GAVIN
“Where are you with the investigation?”
I pace back and forth through the empty barn. The interior smells like hay despite the fact it has stood empty for a decade, or maybe more. The structure needs new siding, a new roof, and a new floor. A new damn near everything.
“I haven’t found any evidence connecting Kayla’s ex-husband to Alexandra’s blackmail scheme,” Margaret reports.
My PR guru’s dismissive tone gives me pause. I stop beneath the beams vaulting the A-frame ceiling. “You don’t believe the PI? He is your guy, right?”
“He’s the best I’ve found, but I’m still not convinced Alexandra is her real name. She must have a reason for coming after you.”
“Money.”
“If that was her primary goal, she would have demanded another payment before going public with her story, and those pictures.”
“Perhaps,” I admit. “Maybe she thinks she will get more out of me if she thrusts the knife in and twists it a few times.”
“Or she could have continued on as your girlfriend and found a way to marry you. An accidental pregnancy—”
“Not a chance,” I say. “I never planned to marry her. It was just a fling.”
