Chapter Eight
Geneva Hotel in Bozeman, Montana
Nate didn’t particularly like sitting in the hotel bar alone. There were a lot of parts of his job that were boring as hell—that involved waiting, waiting, and more waiting. As a former soldier, this wasn’t all that hard or out of the norm.
He didn’t know what it said about him that he’d rather be hiding and waiting in Middle Eastern deserts than a hotel bar.
It was a nice place, especially for Bozeman, and the club soda he sipped on was crisp and cold. But he felt a tension in his neck that was always his gut telling him something was off, something was wrong.
But just about the time he was convincing himself to listen to that voice, to get out of here and tell Mrs. Hyatt they’d have to try again, Mr. Hyatt walked in.
The young brunette sales rep from his company not just with him, but all but plastered to him.
Maybe his gut had finally led him astray, because this was exactly what he’d come here for.
Nate casually lifted his phone from where he’d laid it on the bar.
He pretended to text while he actually got the shot set up so he could take a series of pictures as the couple talked to someone at the front desk.
They got their keys, and then proceeded to the elevator, offering Nate five clear pictures of them making out right here in public while they waited for the elevator doors to open.
Yeah, this was exactly what Mrs. Hyatt had come to Honor’s Edge for. Now she could go forward with her proof and her divorce proceedings, and Nate could get the hell away from the obnoxious woman and her problems.
After the couple disappeared, Nate quickly attached the photos and emailed them to Mrs. Hyatt, with a CC to Sam. Then he pulled up a text message to Sam to tell her he’d be on his way home in a few.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when someone slid their hands over his shoulders. He jerked around to find himself face-to-face with a smiling Mrs. Hyatt.
Who still had her hands on him. He got to his feet and stepped away. The surprise had his heart jittering in his chest, and he had to blink—way too hard—to remind himself he was in a hotel, not a desert. A PI, not a soldier.
Just a woman, not an enemy threat.
But because her surprising him had given him some kind of weird-ass flashback to war, he couldn’t quite swallow down his irritation. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I waited until they went upstairs,” she said, grinning … a little maniacally. “You got it! You got the proof.” She clasped her hands together and did a little hop.
Nate was so shocked, and pissed off, he couldn’t trust himself to speak at first. He could only watch her do her little happy jig.
“Mrs. Hyatt—”
“Jules.”
“Mrs. Hyatt, what are you doing here? I made it very clear that you are not supposed to be here.”
“You said in case they saw me. So I waited until I saw them get into the elevator.” She did her little hop again. “I can’t believe you did it!”
None of her cheer was fading. Just like none of his fury was fading.
He breathed in through his nose, let it out through his mouth.
He worked so damn hard to keep his voice even, but he knew some cold fury leaked through. “I told you that this is against policy. I warned you that we wouldn’t take on this case if you kept pressuring us.”
She blinked at him. Maybe his hard, cold tone was finally getting through to her.
“But you got the pictures.”
“Yes. I forwarded them to you. Tomorrow, you’ll get a bill. And that’s it. Honor’s Edge is officially off the case, Mrs. Hyatt.”
“But—” She reached out for him.
He sidestepped the grab, but he leaned in close, anger beating against him like an active volcano ready to erupt.
“This is it.” He pointed between them to emphasize the point.
The it. “I am going home. I suggest you leave before your husband comes down and sees you and one of you makes a scene. This is the last time you’ll see me, Mrs. Hyatt.
Do not come to the office. Do not contact me again.
Our account will be settled over email. Do you understand? ”
Her mouth had dropped open in shock, and maybe he’d been too curt. Maybe he was being too much of an asshole, all things told.
He didn’t fucking care. He turned and stalked out of the hotel lobby, vibrating with all that fury that she’d done everything he’d told her not to. Pushed everything he’d told her she couldn’t push.
He tried to hold onto his empathy. She was going through something and for some reason she’d fixated on him. Maybe she was a nice person outside of her marriage crumbling.
But he didn’t want to find out.
He got in his truck and drove away from the hotel, from Bozeman. He didn’t feel less angry, but other things started to creep in. An oily and edgy feeling that reminded him too much of his son of a bitch of a father.
He didn’t want to go home to Sam and leak it all over her. Maybe he’d stop by Honor’s Edge first, see what Cal was up to.
Christ, he could use a drink. A breath. He realized he’d never sent that text to Sam, so she wouldn’t worry if he didn’t get right home.
About five minutes outside of Marietta, he groaned, because this day just kept getting worse. Red and blue lights flashed behind him. He swore under his breath a few times as he pulled over to the side of the road.
He preemptively got his license and registration, rolled down the window and let the icy cold wind blast into the car. He wanted it to ease all the roiling feelings inside of him. It might have, but when the cop finally deigned to saunter up to the window, he recognized the man.
For a moment, Nate was speechless. That black, oily rage swirled in his gut, hazed his vision a little bit. Oh, how he’d like to lose his temper on Jake fucking Hayes.
But he didn’t. Wouldn’t. For Sam. “What can I do for you, detective?” Nate asked, trying to sound neutral if not friendly.
He was quite sure he failed.
“You were going a little fast, Bennet. Have any idea just how fast?”
“Thought you were a detective, Hayes? Isn’t pulling people over the road cop’s purview?”
“Just protecting my county, Bennet. Twelve over. With the snowmelt turning into ice overnight? Dangerous and reckless, son. Have you been drinking tonight?”
The son was meant to piss him off.
It worked. “Not unless club soda counts. I’ve been on the job, Hayes. Just headed home now.”
“License and registration?”
He handed over the documents since he’d already retrieved them. “Go crazy,” he muttered.
Jake took his sweet ass time, no shock there. Nate sat in the increasingly frigid interior of his truck. Pissed off, fuming and trying to talk himself out of all of it.
Because neither of these two things was that big of a deal. So he’d had an annoying client who’d crossed a line? That was over. So Jake Hayes wanted to mess with him? Let him.
Nate was the one going home to Sam. So fuck him.
When Hayes finally reappeared, it was with a ticket, of course. He handed it to Nate along with the license and registration.
“Speed limits are there for your safety, Bennet.”
Nate would have really enjoyed telling Hayes where to shove his safety and then demonstrating for good measure. Instead, he held the man’s smug gaze—blank as could be. Because he’d learned from a young age how to be blank when someone was messing with him.
Some of Hayes’s smug smile faded. He walked back to his car. Nate wanted to feel some kind of victory. Maybe later he would.
But for now, he let out a careful breath, rolled up his window, and then drove away. Following the speed limit the whole damn way to Honor’s Edge.