36. Everett
36
EVERETT
C laire’s screams of laughter carry through the bones of the house.
I increase the volume on my podcast.
Volcanoes, even dormant, can erupt at any time under the right circumstances…
The new headphones will take some wearing in, but it feels good to have my old crutch back.
I’m setting the plates at the table when Ransom and Claire come barreling down the stairs. My bones stiffen. He’s got her tossed over his shoulder the way a caveman might carry a woman. She lets out a happy shriek as he hoists her off him, lowers her to her feet, and then pulls out her chair for her.
“M’lady.”
“Thank you, Ransom.”
She’s wearing a too-long flannel, underwear, and nothing else. The red flannel kisses the tops of her thighs.
She’s wearing his shirt.
I’m seized with the sudden impulse to rip it off her. I want to clear the click of each scattered button as I fuck her on this table—our table.
My heart is pounding. I can feel it.
Control yourself, Everett.
“Holy shit,” Claire says, eyes wandering over the spread, “this looks amazing.”
It better.
Fresh slices of oranges. Fluffy pancakes. Crispy bacon. Over-easy eggs. A blueberry and blackberry mix.
“Coffee?” I ask.
“Please.”
I pour her a fresh cup. Ransom sits down beside her, so I fill his cup as well.
Claire slices the side of her fork into a square of pancake and takes a bite. My heart flips.
My Claire has her appetite back.
She has her everything back, actually.
Her eyes are bright. Her perfect posture has returned. Even her hair seems more golden this morning.
I sit across from them so I can watch Claire devour her breakfast.
“I’ve been thinking,” Claire says. “I know who I need to talk to. My father’s business partner. Arris Dagney. He was the only one Daddy confided in. The closest thing I had to an uncle. If anyone knows anything about Daddy’s nefarious friends, it would be him.”
“It sounds like a good place to start,” I agree.
Ransom shakes his head. “You won’t have any luck cornering him today. Arris is having the polo match up at the Equestrian Club. They do it every week.”
“Then it sounds like that’s where we need to be,” Claire says, cocking her head.
My smart, smart girl .
I’m obsessed with her brain.
“Hot damn.” Ransom interrupts massacring his plate and points his fork at me. “I don’t know what you put in pancakes, but it’s amazing.”
Cornmeal. But I won’t tell him that. “Trade secret.”
Ransom shakes his head. A dollop of syrup clings to the scruff around his mouth. “If this secret agent thing doesn’t work out, you could make a decent living as a chef.”
“Noted.”
I hope he enjoys it. I want him to enjoy it.
Every man deserves a decent last meal.
You see, I figured it out.
Claire will never choose between us.
That’s okay. I can’t fault her.
Her father—the only family she’s ever known—broke her. He gave her a heart that craves love the way a sponge craves water. He deprived her of affection, and now she’s gone greedy for it.
Well, I’ll give her all of it. I’ll give her the love she needs.
The love she deserves.
And she’ll learn that my love is all she needs. All she’ll ever need.
I am all she will ever need.
Which is why…
I am going to kill Riley Ransom. Today. At the polo match.