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“You knew your brother wouldn’t kill the delivery driver, yet you let me make that deal.”
I did, and I enjoyed every second of it, but that’s not for her to know or me to understand right now. So I’ll offer her the truth about something else, instead.
“Are you still hungry?”
She throws her head back and blows out a frustrated breath. “Same old Van, avoiding questions.”
I grip her chin, forcing her head up, meeting her eyes under the porch light. “Same old sunflower, always fighting a battle she can’t win.”
She rolls her eyes, and a rush of heat and anger flows through me. My patience snaps as my other hand goes into her hair, gripping the back of her head so hard the only thing she can move is her eyes.
“I’ll ask you one more time, love.” Leaning in, my breath fans over her lips. “Before I go back into the house and forget all about your rumbling stomach, are you hungry?”
Knowing this conversation is over, Reese admits defeat, but not without adding attitude to her words. “Duh, that’s why I ordered food.”
Her sarcasm puts a smile on my face. Tennyson didn’t break her. No one can wilt my sunflower; she only grows stronger in the dark.
“You have three minutes to change,” I clip, dropping my hands and opening the front door. “I suggest you be out in the car in two and a half.”
With that, I leave her standing in the doorway with her mouth agape. I literally don’t care if I take her in the pajamas she insisted she wear for an hour’s nap. There’s not much that embarrasses me.
I head to my office, where I keep the keys to the place we’re going to eat. But instead of finding it neatly organized and pristine, I find the entire space a mess, with my brand-new cognac open.
Someone’s been snooping.
Not that it matters. I’m not stupid enough to leave anything around that my wife could use against me, but interestingly, she spent her time looking.
My girl is resourceful.
She always has been. She can adapt to any situation and find a way out. She’s an escape artist. You could say, a common criminal that no one has ever caught, except me. I know her betrayal was an escape plan.
I had drawn attention to the lounge—to the men she had been stealing from. We had common marks, but whereas she just wanted to siphon money from their accounts, I wanted to burn everything they had until there was nothing left.
I used to sit behind bars, wondering if our roles were reversed would I have turned her in to save myself? The criminal in me says yes, I would have done anything to stay out of jail and continue my mission for justice. But there’s another part of me that knows I could have sought that justice within a matter of days and not months.
The truth is, I enjoyed my evenings watching my sunflower with her cunning smile and witty personality as she poured drink after drink and closed out tabs after running her client’s card through the scanner, allowing herself access to their account numbers.
She was Robin Hood, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor.
I tried to tell myself I needed more time. I needed to be sure I wouldn’t get caught—that I the mayor had the information I needed. I had a plan, but I got greedy, and wanted the girl, too.
Hearing the out-of-breath woman at my door, I look up. Reese is dressed in sweats and a tank top and looks like she could settle on the couch for the next few hours.
At least it isn’t pajamas.
“I’m impressed,” I deadpan, flipping the keys in my pocket, kicking away the pieces of glass on the floor, and walk through them. Her eyes track it carefully.
“I was going to tell you about that,” she offers.
A throaty chuckle escapes me. “I bet. Likely, right after you told me you were rooting through my desk.”
“I was looking for a pen.” There’s no apology in her tone, and I couldn’t enjoy it more.
“I was going to write you a note and needed a pen.”
“How sweet of you,”
“I thought so.” A smile graces her face as she shrugs. The memories of earlier with Tennyson seem to lift off her shoulders as each we joke.
