Chapter Fourteen
Ewen had never really worked in depth with anyone else on one of his stories before.
Even in the collaborations he’d done early in his career, he and whoever he was working with would do their own thing, and then bring it all together at the end to create an article.
But working with Lamont seemed effortless.
Lamont had a curious mind and an amazing memory, catching details Ewen had glossed over and asking questions that opened new angles of investigation.
When Ewen found a suspicious wire transfer buried in Winters’s daughter’s consulting firm records, Lamont immediately cross-referenced it against the timeline of Cortesi’s accident.
They moved through the documents in tandem, passing papers back and forth, building connections without needing to explain every thought.
“Here.” Lamont tapped a bank statement. “Paulson’s campaign received a donation from something called Clearwater Strategic Consulting three days after the House Armed Services Committee approved Hardline’s latest contract extension.”
Ewen pulled Lamont’s laptop closer and started typing. “Clearwater Strategic. That’s new. I don’t have them in my notes.”
“Delaware LLC.” Lamont was already scrolling through a search on his phone. “It’s definitely a shell company. Want to bet we can trace it back to Hardline’s CFO?”
“I’m not taking that bet.” Ewen’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “I’m checking the Secretary of State’s business registry now.”
They fell into a rhythm. Lamont would spot an anomaly, Ewen would dig into the digital records, and together they’d unravel another thread of the conspiracy. The stack of flagged documents grew steadily higher.
Ewen’s fox hummed contentedly in the back of his mind.
Working alongside their mate felt right in a way Ewen had never experienced before.
Every story he’d ever chased had been solitary work.
Part of that was through being a journalist. It was the nature of the game to trust no one.
Ewen trusted himself and relied on his own instincts, making sure he double-checked every source so that he knew he could be certain of anything he submitted for publication.
This was different. Better.
Lamont leaned over to examine a document Ewen had just pulled from one of the many piles they had on the desk and his shoulder pressed against Ewen’s.
The casual touch sent warmth spreading through Ewen’s chest. He’d spent three days recovering in Lamont’s presence, sleeping beside him, sharing meals and stories.
But working together, minds moving in sync toward a common goal, felt intimate in an entirely different way.
“Look at this.” Ewen pointed to a series of payments highlighted in yellow. “A monthly retainer to Arcturus Group. Twenty thousand a month for the past eighteen months.”
Lamont’s dark eyes narrowed. “Arcturus Group. I know that name. That’s a private security firm, very high end stuff, dealing with executive protection, asset recovery, and corporate intelligence.”
“Corporate intelligence.” Ewen’s stomach clenched. “That’s a fancy way of saying they handle problems for people who can afford to make those problems disappear.”
“Exactly.” Lamont’s jaw tightened. “And twenty thousand a month buys you a lot of problem-solving capability. When did these payments start?”
Ewen checked his notes. “Eight months ago. That’s...” He flipped through his timeline. “That’s when I first got in touch with Cortesi.”
The implication hung heavily between them.
“They knew.” Lamont’s voice went flat. “Someone at Hardline or in the DoD knew you were sniffing around almost from the beginning.”
Ewen’s hands trembled slightly as he set down the paper. “Cortesi died three months ago. The payments to Arcturus continued afterward.”
“Because they were tracking you next.” Lamont reached over and laced his fingers through Ewen’s. “The woman who interrogated you in Egypt, the one who looked out of place with a professional, organized, well-funded support team. That’s Arcturus.”
“So Hardline paid for my abduction.”
“Or someone connected to Hardline who has access to their accounts.” Lamont squeezed Ewen’s hand. “Either way, we’ve got them. This paper trail connects the defense contractor directly to a private security firm, and the timing links that firm to Cortesi’s death and your kidnapping.”
Ewen stared at the documents spread across the desk. Months of work, dozens of sources, hundreds of hours of investigation - and in a few hours together, he and Lamont had found the missing piece that tied it all together.
His stomach chose that moment to emit a loud, embarrassing growl.
Lamont’s serious expression cracked into a smile. “When did we last eat?”
Ewen glanced at the window. It was fully dark outside. “Breakfast. What time is it?”
“Almost eight.” Lamont stood and stretched, and Ewen tried not to stare at the way his shirt rode up to reveal a strip of toned abdomen. “We should eat something.”
“Yeah.” Ewen’s stomach rumbled again, but food wasn’t actually the first thing on his mind anymore.
Watching Lamont work had been unexpectedly attractive.
The sharp focus, the quick mind, the way he’d gone protective and fierce when they’d identified Arcturus as Ewen’s possible kidnappers…
his fox had been paying attention to it all.
“Do you want to go out?” Lamont asked. “There’s a decent Italian place two blocks over, or we could…”
“No.” The word came out more forcefully than Ewen intended. He softened his tone. “I’d rather have an intimate meal at home here with you.”
Something shifted in Lamont’s expression. Heat flickered in those dark eyes before his face gentled into something warm and pleased. “I can make that happen. Give me five minutes?”
“Take your time.”
Lamont headed toward the kitchen, and Ewen felt what was becoming a familiar buzz, Lamont’s particular brand of magic. It was like a soft displacement of air that meant he’d conjured something from wherever hellhounds sourced their materialized items.
Alone in the office, Ewen leaned back in the chair, easing the ache in his back and letting himself breathe.
Working with Lamont had been incredible.
It was no wonder that Lamont was an acclaimed freelance investigative journalist in his own right.
But for Ewen, who had always read Lamont’s articles and thought, “I want to be you when I grow up,” working with him now seemed so easy.
The way they’d moved together, anticipated each other’s thoughts, built on each other’s insights without ego or competition getting in the way.
Ewen had always been self-reliant by necessity, but having a partnership with someone who matched his drive and dedication to finding the truth felt natural in a way he hadn’t expected.
His fox stirred, reminding him of another need.
They’d been patient. Ewen had needed time to heal, and it had been fun spending time with Lamont, learning his rhythm and habits, and yes, learning to trust him as well.
Ewen thought back to when they’d gotten back from his wrecked hotel room - how Lamont looked as though he wanted to pull Ewen into his arms and keep him there.
But he hadn’t - he’d let me set the pace of what I need, Ewen realized.
But now, after spending three nights sleeping in their mate’s arms, without the claiming bite Ewen’s fox craved…Ewen was done being patient.
The mating bond was there and had been since Lamont’s hound received his collar.
It hummed between them, warm, golden…and incomplete.
The hound had got his collar - Ewen’s fox wanted his teeth in Lamont’s neck.
Ewen wanted to sink into Lamont’s arms and feel that final connection snap into place.
It was time for him to stop holding back and just take what they both needed.
It’s not like it was going to be a hardship. Ewen wanted Lamont with a hunger that had nothing to do with the food currently being prepared in the other room.
Watching Lamont work had been unexpectedly erotic.
The intensity of his focus, the careful precision of his questions, the way he came up with connections Ewen hadn’t even thought of.
All of that appealed to Ewen on a level that went beyond simple attraction.
Put simply, Lamont was a brilliant journalist, a protective hound, and a sexy man. Ewen wanted him.
More than that, Ewen felt safe enough to want him that way. Taking someone’s cock into his body was an act of trust in itself, but Ewen knew he felt secure enough to let himself be vulnerable in a way he’d never allowed before.
His fox was quivering with anticipation at the very idea.
We’ll do it after dinner, Ewen was comfortable with his decision. They’d eat, get cleaned up, settle somewhere comfortable, and somewhere in all that, Ewen would’ve worked up the courage to say the words out loud instead of just thinking them.
I’m ready. I want you. Take me to bed.
His face was heated just thinking about it, but foxes weren’t particularly subtle creatures, and Ewen had never been good at playing coy.
If he wanted something, he went after it.
And he wanted Lamont - the physical claim, the intimacy, the completion of the bond that had been pulling at him since the moment his fox had recognized their mate at Pier888. Ewen wanted everything.
“Food’s ready,” Lamont called from the other room.
Ewen stood, smoothed down his borrowed shirt, and took a steadying breath. After dinner. He could make it through dinner. Probably. It depends on what Lamont has zapped up. I mean, a fox has to eat, and with luck, I’ll need the energy later.