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“What is he getting wired?”
Corbin drove down Main Street for a block or two without answering. “We’re having a state-of-the-art alarm system installed in the cottage.”
I smiled, not at the alarm system but the fact he called his large Cape Cod a cottage. “Will we be safe there?”
If the bad guys found me outside the bed-and-breakfast, the bakery, and then hunted Corbin to his office, were we really safe anywhere in Pelican Bay?
He nodded quickly, not giving my question much thought. “Yeah, no one knows about the house. It’s not even in my name. It’s a company property. The office space was Cyrus’s idea. He wanted to give us legitimacy, so that address is public knowledge.”
“You wanted to become a legitimate hacker?”
He laughed, turning onto the street where he kept the “cottage.”
“Those skills are a secret. Remember? My brother and I entered the real estate game and needed to create the illusion we have a home base. Real estate is a Kensington staple for creating wealth.”
“You guys need more money?”
“No,” he said quickly, “but our father wants us to settle down and prove ourselves.”
I pictured Corbin leading people around houses and showing them master bedrooms with beautiful ensuite bathrooms. The image didn’t last long because I couldn’t even create a fantasy with him in such a domestic job.
Corbin was not a real estate agent.
“Really? You’re giving hacking up to sell houses?” Maybe he meant they were going to buy old houses and convert them. But I couldn’t imagine what that looked like either. Corbin wielding a sledgehammer to take out kitchen cabinets like an HGTV show. It would never happen.
He smiled as if he read my thoughts and knew exactly what I’d been trying to picture.
His look turned wicked as he pulled into the driveway of the Cape Cod and glanced at me. “No, babe. I’m not turning my keyboard in for a hammer, but we need to explain how we’ve acquired our money somehow and give my parents something to tell their friends.”
Corbin didn’t talk about his parents often, but when he did, it was always trying to appease them. It made me question their relationship. My biggest experience with rich families happened on TV shows likeDallasorKeeping Up with the Kardashians. I imagined a lot of drama and not much love, which made me sad.
I waited until he left the Escalade first and then hopped out my side, trying to balance the box without spilling it on the ground. The box had a huge dent in its corner where one side started to collapse. I hoped the cookies and brownies weren’t crumbles. Corbin worked so hard at not forgetting it. I’d hate to see his work wasted.
“If the place is safe, why did we go to the office first?” I asked, waiting as Corbin unlocked the door, his eyes scanning the street.
I moved my gaze in the same pattern as his, but the sidewalks and street were deserted.
He ushered me inside and closed the door behind him, locking it and the deadbolt. “The office has better internet. It’ll take longer to grab the files here. We only have a residential service, but at least we’ll be comfortable, I suppose.”
I held up the box of goodies. “And we have treats.”
Corbin’s smile grew, and mine matched his. Something about him had become infectious. He didn’t smile often, so each time I earned one, it made me a little giddy inside, like a schoolgirl who did something well and earned praises from her teacher.
I wanted to find more things to make Corbin grin. Little bits to brighten his day.
I set the box on the table as movement caught the corner of my eye. Someone came out of the bedroom at the back of the house. I screamed and Corbin jumped in front of me, putting his body between mine and the attacker.
“It’s only Drake,” he said, his hand reaching back and clutching mine securely.
The tall, beefy man who’d followed Corbin around the last two days marched through the living room into the kitchen. Corbin flipped open the top of the pink bakery box and pulled out a chocolate chip cookie before taking a bite.
“The place is clear. I checked the inside and the perimeter. I’ll be stationed out front,” Drake said before unlocking the deadbolt of the door and walking out without waiting to hear what either of us said.
“Thanks,” Corbin yelled after him before the door shut.
“He’s not very talkative. Is he?” I asked as Corbin reset the deadbolt.
He laughed. “I think it’s a requirement. Also why I hired him. Who wants somebody following them around all day being chatty?”
