Chapter 15
BUCK
“I really don’t want to talk about your ex right now, but I don’t think there’s any choice.”
We’d finished our delayed breakfast, then took showers. I went first and after his turn, he came out of the master bath in just a towel, his hair messy as if he’d used a hand towel to rub it dry.
Men. He looked perfect even when he wasn’t trying.
“The bag,” I said, sitting on the bed.
“Yeah, the bag.”
“I brought all my things with me from Aunt Mabel’s.” I picked up Jackson’s messenger bag that I’d set beside me.
“That’s what he wants?” Buck asked, coming over and taking it from me. He turned it from side to side, inspecting it. He stuck his hand inside, slid it around.
“He loves that bag,” I said. “More than me.”
“What he feels for you is irrelevant.” His gaze lifted from the bag to me. The way he was eyeing me, I had a feeling he wanted to fuck me again.
“Yeah, well, from that phone call earlier, what he feels is pissed.”
“Again, irrelevant. You walked out on him for a reason.”
His hand stilled, then he set the bag down on the bed and fished around inside.
“What?” I asked, watching him as he pulled something out. “Is that… a thumb drive?”
“Found it tucked inside an inner pocket.”
He dropped the bag on the bed beside me, not caring at all for something that cost more than some used cars as we stared at the little memory stick in his hand.
I reached out and took it from him. It was nondescript, like any cheap memory card anyone could pick up at a store or even online.
“Oh my God. He said there was something in it that he needed,” I continued.
“This is why he’s been blowing up my phone?
I really did dump out the contents into the trash can outside of his building after I found him with Sheryl.
I didn’t search through it that closely.
Maybe I was petty, but I didn’t care about what was inside, more that I took something that was important to him. ”
“What do you think is on it? If he’s been harassing you for two weeks, then it’s got to be important,” he guessed, crossing his arms over his bare chest.
When I left New York, I’d packed a bag of clothes and all my electronics, including my personal laptop.
I hopped off the bed and went to my pile of belongings that was still in the corner and pulled it out.
I hadn’t used it once since I got to Montana.
I returned to the bed, stuck the drive into the port on the side, flipped open the laptop lid and got it booted up.
Buck dropped onto the bed beside me, the mattress dipping from his weight. I tried not to pay attention to him in only a towel, or how the terry cloth parted to expose one of his muscled thighs.
“The folder’s full of files,” I told him, scrolling to see what they were. I clicked one open and gasped.
“What?” Buck said, leaning to look at the screen.
I opened another file, then another, to be sure. I angled it so the screen faced Buck.
“What am I looking at?”
“What Jackson’s freaking out about. They’re client files of the Mancuso crime family.”