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does after last night. I want to punch me.
“What now?” I question, sitting down at the table with my own coffee and a bowl of fruit.
Mitch raises an eyebrow from where he’s leaning against the granite countertop. He puts down his mug and glances out the windows at the beach.
“Now I have to figure out what to do with you,” he replies.
I freeze, a spoonful of fruit halfway to my mouth. “Do with me? What do you mean?”
Mitch sighs and rubs his bloodshot eyes with the heels of his hands. He speaks slowly and enunciates each word as if I’m a toddler and he’s the exhausted parent who’s tired of having to explain.
“He knows where you live, Gavin. You can’t stay here. And since he was able to get into your hotel room I’d say checking into a hotel isn’t a great idea either.”
“Oh.” That does seem obvious now that he’s said it.
“Yeah, oh,” he mocks.
I bristle at his attitude. “You don’t have to be an asshole about it.”
Mitch scowls right back at me. “Obviously, I do, because you have absolutely no common sense when it comes to your own safety!”
I stand up, shoving the chair back. It tips back and clatters to the floor. “One mistake! One! I’m not fucking perfect, okay?”
Mitch shakes his head, laughing sarcastically. “One mistake? You ditched me at the club last night. Have you forgotten that already?”
My mouth opens to say something then I snap it shut. God, I want to scream and rant and slap that stupid smug look off of his face. But he’s right. I did disregard his advice.
The reality of my behavior settles over me and the fight bleeds out. I pick up the chair and sink back down. “You’re right.” I catch his surprised look and laugh to myself. “What? I can admit when I’m wrong.”
Mitch Hale, stunned into silence. That’s a first.
“So, what do we do now?” I question.
“You’ll do whatever I say?” he asks. There’s that damn twitch in his eye again.
I nod. “As long as it’s necessary, yes.” Mitch picks up his coffee and limps over to take the seat across from me. I hold up a finger. “And as long as you keep me informed.”
“I have no problem with telling you what’s going on. You’re not a delicate flower that needs to be lied to,” Mitch states.
I choke on my breakfast. Mitch watches in amusement as I struggle to swallow. Once I’m able to breathe, I poke fun. “I thought I was a spoiled brat?”
He gives me a sexy, lopsided grin and my stomach does a backflip. “You are a spoiled brat. That doesn’t mean you’re not tough.”
“Oh, so now I’m tough?” I joke. “Your opinions of me are giving me whiplash.”
Mitch chuckles. “Maybe your behavior gives me whiplash.”
I point at his knee. “With the injured knee, you really are Johnny Utah.”
“I have no idea what that means.” He scowls, but I can tell it’s fake. We laugh together for a minute. I think I see a flicker of fondness in his eyes before it disappears. Mitch’s face suddenly becomes serious.
“This guy isn’t an amateur, Gavin. He’s dangerous and he seems to know what he’s doing.”
I put down my spoon and push the half-eaten food away. “Will you tell me what you’ve found so far?” My hands have nothing to do and my lucky stone is upstairs. I have to rub my fingers together to keep them occupied.
Mitch nods. “Keep in mind this is a very basic profile. I’m still going through the evidence. The original notes and gifts weren’t kept. That means I have to interview everyone involved to gather the threats and exact wordings, or as close as can be remembered.”
“Yeah. We didn’t think it was a big deal. Ross said they didn’t want to worry me so they didn’t even tell me about the threats until I discovered one myself. It freaked me out.”
