Page 46 of Unmasked

He flicked a glance at Mason. “This is our guy?”

“Almost positive.” Mason nodded.

“I think it’s time to meet with Mr. Tate,” he said softly. “I just spoke with the mechanic. Looks like he’s had a tracking device on Everleigh’s car.”

Mason swore. “Explains how he always knows exactly where she’ll be.”

“My thoughts exactly. Let’s see how he feels when the shoe is on the other foot.”

He dropped his gaze back to the photo in his hand, absorbing every detail of the man’s face. He'd been following Everleigh for weeks, and it was time to make it stop.

CHAPTER

THIRTY

“You’re moving in with me.”

Everleigh blinked up at Knox. “What?”

He scooped her plate off the table and set it in the sink. “You heard me.”

What had happened over the past twenty-four hours to elicit this kind of reaction? Yesterday he’d sworn to give her space; today he demanded she jump at the snap of his fingers. “Isn't that a little presumptuous?”

“Not when it comes to your safety.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned one hip against the table as he regarded her.

Resentment bubbled up within her. She was trying to escape her parents and didn’t want to be under someone else's thumb, not even Knox’s, despite his good intentions. “I'm sure I can find a safe place to stay in the meantime. I could sublet something or⁠—”

“Not a chance.” He gave an abbreviated shake of his head. “Your butt is staying right here where I know you're okay.”

She gritted her teeth as she stood to face him head on. “I'll be fine.”

His dark eyes bore into hers. “Did you or did you not hire my firm to find the person stalking you?”

“Yes, but⁠—”

“Then consider this protocol.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Would you do this for all of your clients?”

He snorted. “Happens more than you'd think.”

She recoiled at his statement, and he pulled her close. “Not me personally.” His hands skimmed up and down her arms. “The other guys. You're a different case entirely.”

His words soothed her, but she wasn’t quite ready to give in just yet. “I really don't think it's necessary.”

“And I do.”

“So your opinion is worth more than mine?”

“It’s not an opinion,” he corrected. “It’s a statistical probability. And when it comes to your safety, I will always err on the side of caution. I want you here, in my house and in my bed. Where else do you have to be?”

“I have a life, you know,” she snapped, a little stung that he thought so little of her.

“That's not what I meant.” He ran the tips of his fingers over her jaw. “But I just got you back. I'm not losing you again, not even for a second. I have years to make up for, and I'm going to spend every spare minute spoiling you.”

She was still angry enough to be petulant, so she turned a glare on him. “What if I don't want to be spoiled?”

“Too bad. Making you happy makes me happy.”