Chapter 13 #3
Why was I so open with him the other night? It’s no one’s business what’s happening between Ranger and me, and the last person who should ever know about my marital problems is Colt fucking Harland.
As I go to the exit and read the message, another “When are you coming home?” text, girlish laughter spills into the restaurant as the door opens, and a man appears.
I halt in my tracks.
He’s devastatingly handsome. So much so, he almost gives Ranger a run for his money. He’s tall, with thick, dark hair and a matching beard. He’s in faded black jeans and a wool coat, a gray T-shirt underneath, the red logo long since peeled. Over his shoulder is a little girl laughing hysterically.
The man stops in place, the door closing behind him. Dark green eyes consider me, eyes similar to Finn’s.
This is Ronan McEwan.
He places the little girl on her feet but doesn’t move his gaze from me. It feels a little like being under a handsome microscope, and I don’t like it one bit. This is how I thought meeting Finn would feel, but instead, his nephew is watching me like he has no idea what I might do next.
“You’re early, Ronan.” Colt is suddenly beside me.
Ronan is still staring at me. “You’re Denver.”
I nod slowly. “I am.”
“Ronan.”
“I know.”
“I’m Holly,” the little girl says, and I look down at her. She’s grinning up at me, and I forget Ronan’s scrutiny and drop into a crouch.
“It’s nice to meet you, Holly.”
“Thanks. I like your hair.”
I flick it over my shoulder dramatically. “I grew it myself.”
Holly laughs, and I grin at her. I’m not around kids very often, and when I am, I always wonder about Theo. He’d be three soon. I try to imagine what he’d look like, the way he’d act, the things he’d like. The ache quickly starts in my chest, but I force a smile.
“Well, I have to run,” I say, and search through my purse to find one of my spare bracelets. “But first. Hold out your arm.” Holly does, and I tie an orange and pink bracelet around her wrist. “Perfect.”
She gasps. “It’s so pretty.”
“I have one, too.” I show her mine, and she blushes. “We’re twins.”
“Twins,” she repeats.
I stand just as Ronan is mouthing something to Colt. He quickly stops when he sees me looking. I narrow my eyes. “What are you two whispering about?”
Colt gives Ronan a look that suspiciously resembles a ‘shut up.’ “Nothing.”
“Just that you’re my sister-in-law,” Ronan says.
I can’t help blanching. Technically, yes, Ronan is my brother-in-law, but it’s weird to think about.
And on cue, Ranger calls me. Instead of answering, I look at Colt. “Can you send me those details for the security firm?”
He nods, tearing his gaze from my phone. “Will do.”
The cool air is welcoming when I reach the car and finally answer.
“Are you ready to come home?”
A question he’s asked me before. History repeats itself, but instead of hiding behind a murder charge, I’m hiding in another city.
“Are you ready to fix my casino deal and stop being a controlling piece of shit?”
Ranger’s silence should frighten me, but it doesn’t.
“What would you like me to say, little bird? Come home, I won’t stop you from growing, I’ll encourage it, I’ll stop having an opinion on your life?”
I scoff. “You think this is me silencing you? Are you fucking kidding?”
“What else would you call not allowing me to express my concerns over the way you’re living?”
“The way I’m—” I laugh. I can’t help it. “Have you been drinking? What even is this conversation?”
I zone out, his voice becoming a murmur of annoyance as Finn and Helena exit the restaurant. As they reach their car, Finn pauses, his focus across the street.
Where a man is taking photos of me.
Lewis always deals with these situations for me.
A quick threat, a less-than-subtle flash of his firearm, and whoever it is goes away.
But before I can even point out the photographer, Finn has signaled to one of his men.
A simple gesture, one I’d likely miss if I hadn’t already been looking, and he continues his conversation with Helena, his smile returning.
When I look across the street again, the photographer is gone.
I scan the area, looking for any trace of the young man with the camera or Finn’s man, but both have vanished.
Ranger continues ranting as I return my attention to Finn McEwan. He’s gazing at his wife with adoration as she talks, no trace of the man who’d just instructed for someone to be removed from our presence, likely violently. When he sees me staring, he smiles. A warm smile. No malice, no threat.
A good man with a dark heart. A murderer with clean hands.
“Are you listening to me, Denver?” Ranger says.
I nod, even though he can’t see me. “Yeah.”
Ranger says, “The way I see it is like this, little bird. You are my wife. I am your husband. Regardless of our current disagreement, you belong at home, with me, not galivanting around New York with Finn fucking McEwan.” Now, he has my attention.
I hold my breath. “How was lunch? Is he well? Did he woo you with childhood memories and regrets over how he fucked things up with your dad?”
“You’re following me?”
“I keep a close eye on what belongs to me. And that includes Colt Harland touching my fucking property.” His voice becomes low, thunderous, and my heart slams against my ribcage. “He lays a hand on you again, Denver, and I’ll remove his fucking heart.”
My confidence flounders, and I place my hand on the car. “It isn’t—”
“What would Ethan think if he saw you acting that way with the brother of the man who killed him?” Shame floods my body so fast my knees almost dip. “Stop embarrassing us both and get your ass home.”
He hangs up.