Page 46 of Taken Away

They might not be calling the sheriff tonight.

But in Bennett’s mind, the perimeter had already changed. Whatever this was, it wasn’t random anymore.

ELEVEN

Blackwood Estate

Mabel’s House

Aubrey came downstairs barefoot and half asleep, expecting the house to be empty.

Instead, Bennett McCrae was still stretched across Mabel’s linen sofa like some exhausted mountain warlord who’d lost a fight with furniture.

One long leg hung off the edge of the couch. His boots sat side by side on the rug beside the coffee table, streaked with dried red clay. Moose was sprawled on the floor nearby, snoring hard enough to rattle the windows.

And Bennett⁠—

Bennett was still shirtless.

Aubrey stopped.

Well.

Morning light cut across the hard planes of his chest and stomach, sliding over dark ink along his ribs—numbers. Coordinates, maybe. The tattoo disappeared beneath the waistband of his sweats before she could read enough to guess where it led.

Her gaze lingered a beat too long.

The man looked unfairly good unconscious.

The house was quiet. Locked.

She pulled out her phone before she could talk herself out of it.

The picture came out annoyingly perfect: Bennett asleep on the couch, Moose sprawled beside him, light on the tattoo and the sharp lines of his face.

She sent it to Machelle Gray.

My temporary security detail.

Three dots appeared almost immediately.

Machelle: JESUS CHRIST.

Machelle: Are those coordinates tattooed on him??

Machelle: Aubrey. Is that man leading people to buried treasure?

Aubrey bit back a laugh.

He’s my arrogant business partner. Someone tried to get into the house last night.

Machelle: I don’t care if he’s emotionally unavailable and hiding bodies in the vineyard. Keep him.

Aubrey was typing back when Moose’s tail thumped once against the floor.

Bennett’s eyes opened.

No slow blink. One second asleep, the next awake.