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“That will never happen.”
He pursed his lips and met my determined gaze with an even, steady one of his own.
“Franco had someone break into the cottage last night, so he’s the more urgent threat we need to focus on. But in the meantime, I’ve asked my private investigator to examine your dad’s case. To see if there were any other suspects or anyone that sticks out that might get nervous if the case is reopened.”
A mixture of emotions crashed through my chest. Fear was first and foremost—fear that Hunter, through his PI, was about to open the hood and look around my father’s case. It was rattling, to say the least. Hunter was a trained prosecutor. What if he uncovered something incriminating that convinced him of my father’s guilt?
Could I be with someone that didn’t believe in my father’s innocence?
The thought infected my mind and heart, making me realize how much it mattered to me that Hunter believed my father was innocent. Hunter seeing my father as a ruthless killer instead of the loving dad that he was would be a betrayal of the worst kind. One that would break my heart and one that I would likely never recover from.
I had to swallow my anxiety. I was getting ahead of myself, and we had enough on our plate without my emotional freak-out.
I should focus on the hopeful side of Hunter having his PI look into this. If this private investigator was half as good as Hunter claimed, maybe he would find the evidence that others had missed, proving my father’s innocence. Maybe he would even find the real killer.
“I want to be there when he tells you what he finds,” I said.
Hunter studied me before eventually nodding. “Fair enough.”
I thought that was the end of the conversation, but when I took another bite of the eggs, Hunter said, “One last thing.”
I blinked.
“I’d like you to sleep in my bedroom from now on.”
Eggs lodged in my throat. I had to take a large swig of coffee to chase them down.
I wanted to sleep in his bedroom, too. But this was all moving so fast. Two weeks ago, I never thought I would be in a relationship. Now, here I was, having all these feelings for Hunter Lockwood.
And while we would undoubtedly continue to sleep together for however long I was staying at his mansion, moving into his bedroom was symbolic to me. So much of our relationship had been forced upon us, and I wanted to control some parts of it.
Notably, the decision to move into his bedroom.
If I ever made that move, I wanted it to be the next step in our relationship. Not a more convenient location for us to sleep, given the circumstances.
“I’d like that, too, but for now, I’d feel more comfortable sleeping in the guest room.”
Hunter’s face fell slightly.
“With you,” I added.
I loved the way the hurt evaporated from his face and the edges of his lips curled into a smile.
“You’ve been independent for so long; it must be hard to let that go.”
Damn, this man could read me.
He took the last sip of his coffee and stood up, leaning on the table with one hand so his face dangled inches from my own.
“I have one more surprise for you. Finish your breakfast and then meet me in the hallway upstairs.”
Hunter brushed my lips with his before walking out of the dining room and climbing the grand staircase of his estate.
I downed my food in a hurry, excited to race upstairs and, hopefully, have a repeat of last night. In fact, I only ate half my breakfast—because I didn’t want to be full, if that was his surprise—before putting my dishes in the sink and walking back upstairs into the hallway.
Where Hunter Lockwood stood, his hands in his cotton pockets, smiling at me beneath that messy head of hair of his.
He looked stunning, his sculpted physique on full display with no shirt. His broad shoulders and chiseled chest commanded attention, each defined muscle effortlessly showcasing his strength, as the sunlight from a nearby window danced across his skin, casting shadows that accentuated the contours of his well-built body.
