Torn Page 11

  “Will you make me something yummy for breakfast?” she asked.

  “Waffles?”

  “Deal.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  JUST A FEW days later, Beau awoke to sunlight breaking over Cora’s still-sleeping form. In the time they’d been together he found himself at her place or she with him most nights. And still he wanted her. Burned for her.

  She was goofy as hell and there was nothing like it in his world. It filled him up in ways he hadn’t expected.

  He eased from bed, wanting her to get all the rest she could. Especially as he’d kept her awake the night before. Twice.

  In her kitchen, he’d noticed she now kept things he liked and used, like the coffee he scooped into the filter to get a fresh pot started. He didn’t have any plans until that evening when Cora got off work and would go with him to look at some houses.

  Since she’d have to be up within the hour to get her day started he figured he’d send her off with coffee and a full belly. Waffles seemed to be a favorite and they were easy to whip up and add fruit to to change things up.

  Before he quite got over the flutter in his chest at the way his life had gone from lonely to this connection he shared with Cora, he remembered it was her recycle day and hustled back to the bedroom, where she’d just finished pulling on jeans, sleep still on her features.

  “Recycling,” she said, her voice momentarily muffled by the sweater yanked over her head.

  “On it.” He shoved his feet into shoes, laughing as she danced out of his reach on her way out the door.

  Clutching the little bins for glass and paper, they ran through the rain out to the main collection containers on the street just as the big blue truck turned the corner onto her block.

  “Score,” she said, grinning and rain-soaked.

  He grabbed her hand and they headed back to her place, pausing on the porch to toe off their shoes.

  “Thank god I turned the fireplace on before I started to make coffee,” he told her.

  Cora tossed a towel at him. “Get dried off before all the women in the area start banging on my door demanding more hot, wet model in their day. And who can blame them?”

  “Not that I’m complaining. But I prefer when one person in particular demands hot, wet model in her day.” He peeled off his shirt. The pants were in pretty good shape though so he left those on.

  “Lucky me,” she murmured, yanking her shirt off and standing in her living room just out of his reach. Bare skin over perfectly sized tits. The swoops and swirls of all her ink added an edge.

  “You have time to get luckier before you have to go to work. I mean, I might have to rush a little, but I do get the job done.”

  Her laughter warmed his belly, and right as he reached to grab the waistband of her pants to pull her nearer there was a sharp knock at her front door.

  “Ignore it,” he said.

  Shrugging, she wrapped her arms around him, sliding warm skin against his warm skin. She climbed up his body like a monkey, wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom. “Make me late for work.”

  Half an hour later they emerged a little mussed up, but smiling as they headed into the kitchen for some breakfast.

  On the way out though, as she opened her front door, an envelope that must have been tucked into the space between the jamb and door flitted to the porch.

  Cora picked it up and made a sound of surprise so Beau looked over her shoulder and recognized his name on the front. “Weird. It’s for you.”

  No one knew he was there but Ian and Jeremy. He had some superfans who tended toward bad filters rather than instability, but the idea that anyone would come at him through Cora rendered him a little nauseated.

  She handed it over her shoulder to him. “This is weird,” he said. “Stay back when I open it just in case.” Confusion washed over her features and he gentled his tone. “We don’t know what it could be. I just want you to be safe.”

  “If you think this will blow up why the hell are you thinking of opening it? Why not call the authorities?” Cora demanded.

  Damn it, why was she so fucking cute all the time? Even when she was disobeying him and demanding answers, she was cute. He kissed her, picked her up, set her back inside the house and closed the door at his back.

  “Oh no, you did not just pick me up and put me in my house like a puppy!” she yelled through the door.

  He opened the envelope and pulled out the paper inside. No powder, nothing sticky or strange on the contents.

  As he finished reading it the second time, Cora came around the side of her house and up to the porch, where she pinched his side. “Don’t do that again.”

  “Listen, let me get this out so we can be clear,” he said. “I will do it again. Or anything else that I think is necessary to protect you.”

  Her outrage was also cute but he decided not to share that thought. He liked his balls unkicked.

  “I’m not a kid. Or a thing. You can’t just move me around how you want,” she said. “Well. Except for sex. But that’s not what we’re discussing right now.”

  He turned her way and paused, giving her a slow up and down.

  She had on high-waisted red trousers and a white blouse. She’d done something to her hair, a twisted bun thing that gave her a vintage air. Of course it was the killer heels she wore that made the outfit. That and the bright red lipstick. She looked like a noir villain. The annoyance on her features, god help him, made the entirety of her more than he could resist.

  “You look fantastic,” Beau told her, bending to kiss her. “Beautiful Cora, I know you’re not a thing. I know you’re independent and intelligent and capable of making your own choices. But I’m not going to take chances with your safety. If that annoys you, I am sorry. But not sorry enough to stop putting you first.”

  Her sigh had a snarl in it, but she stopped looking like she was going to punch his junk any second. “Tell me what the hell is happening. What is it that’s gotten you so freaked out?”

  “I need to make some calls and handle a few things. Let me take you to the gallery. I’ll be back later to pick you up and I’ll tell you more then.”

  “Are you in danger? Is someone threatening you?”

  That she’d be concerned about him when the damned note showed up on her doorstep was another disarming thing about her. It also made him worry a little more.

  “No one is threatening my safety,” he said carefully. Beau wanted her safe at work so he could get in touch with Jeremy about the note. “This is related to Road to Glory.” He tucked the envelope into a pocket. “I promise,” he repeated, “to explain more when I see you tonight. Everything is fine. There’s no danger. I’d never lie to you about that.”

  She allowed him to check to be sure she’d locked the door, and then led her through the center courtyard and out to the street where he’d parked.

  If there’d been more than three minutes to the gallery he might have given her some background. Still, when he pulled up out front he paused, a hand on her forearm. “I need to move on this information immediately. Please understand.”

  Cora nodded, leaning over to kiss him quickly. “Be careful. I’ll see you later when I will expect a full explanation. And smooching.”

  He was still smiling when he pulled away from the curb and headed back to the condo so he could get in touch with his investigators to tell them what had happened.

  * * *

  CORA BURIED HERSELF in work as much as she could to avoid obsessing about whatever it was that had Beau going so pale and then very stoic when he’d read whatever it was in that envelope. Expression closed off and more severe than she’d seen him. If he hadn’t been all bossy to protect her she might have been more unsure as to what was going on between them. But he’d looked at her, asking for her patience and that’s what she’d
give.

  She sold a few paintings and a sculpture and considered it a day well spent when she finally locked up. She was ready to go home, change into leggings and thick socks and look at her hot former model boyfriend as he told her whatever was going on.

  He’d cook for her. At the very least make her a cup of tea and pull out something sweet to go with it. He liked to take care of her that way. It was simple and lovely and quieted the noise inside her chest to be treated like that.

  Even all his picking her up and moving her around earlier that day had been annoying but borne of a real desire to be sure she was all right. She’d never experienced the like.

  A more than brisk wind kicked up and she was glad she remembered her gloves. But before she even got three steps from the gallery doors, he beeped the horn of his car as he pulled into the loading spot in front of the gallery.

  “Hi,” she said when she got in and leaned over for a kiss.

  “Hi yourself, beautiful.”

  He took her hand and didn’t let go until he found a parking place.

  “Your porch looks naked without all the spiders,” he said as they approached her place. “I’m bummed I missed Halloween while I was in Los Angeles.”

  “Me too. It was pretty epic. Everyone came over here and hung out, taking turns handing out candy and scaring the trick-or-treaters.”

  Her only excuse was that she was paying so much attention to Beau that she hadn’t seen The Hugger fast walking over to them until it was too late to avert their collision course.

  Damn it.

  “Cora! It’s been too long since I’ve run into you.” The Hugger moved in but she stepped around to Beau’s other side and he kept between them to help her evade.

  “Hi, Dave. It’s nice to see you. We were just on our way home so...” Cora smiled, tugging on Beau to keep them moving.

  “Is this your boyfriend?” The Hugger looked up and up some more into Beau’s face. “I’m Dave!” He stepped in for a hug but Beau just held a hand out to hold him off.

  “No hug, please. I’m not a hugger.”

  Beau managed to make it sound charming and apologetic instead of insulting. And Cora liked him more for it. Dave wasn’t malicious; he just had weird boundary issues and an attachment to attempting to live every day like it was 1977.

  Dave put his hands up and smiled. “No problemo. Lani and I are firing up the hot tub and cracking open some wine. You two should come over. Get to know you better since you’re dating Cora. I even have a spare suit for you if you like.”

  Cora withheld—barely—a shudder at the idea.

  “Thanks for the invitation and say hello to Lani for me. Beau and I have plans though. You have a good night and enjoy the hot tub.” Cora smiled and tugged on Beau to get him moving again.

  “Nice to meet you, mate,” Beau said as they walked away.

  “You too!” Dave called out and kept on his merry way.

  Once inside the house, she made sure everything was locked up. “Just in case they want to come back for another crack at you. When Lani sees you, well, she’s going to want to take a bite. Not that I blame her or anything. But if she were to try I can’t say I’d take it well.”

  Beau cocked his head, smirking. “Well now. I’ve never seen this side of you. Makes my dick hard.”

  Cora snorted a laugh.

  “Go get changed out of your work clothes and I’ll start dinner. Then we’ll talk.” He bent to kiss her.

  After she scrubbed off her makeup, she pulled her hair into a ponytail and dressed in those long-awaited leggings, a long, soft sweater and thick socks before heading back out to the kitchen.

  She’d texted Maybe and Rachel before she’d left the gallery, just saying she and Beau had a thing they needed to work out that night and she’d talk to them tomorrow. Hopefully that would be enough to keep Maybe out of her business until the following day, when they had a lunch date.

  He was pouring her a rather large glass of wine when she approached the counter. “Um. This doesn’t bode well. You think I need that much booze to handle whatever you’re going to say?”

  “Before you walked into Gregori’s kitchen that night I really had no idea how sexy I’d find it to be spoken to so plainly.”

  “Stop being so hot and charming. Oh! What’s that?” Wariness forgotten for a moment, she leaned in to see what he was making for dinner until he started to unload the sacks he’d brought in with them.

  “I’ve been working on pasta today so we’re having ricotta cavatelli with eggplant and sausage,” he told her as he rolled up his sleeves and pulled his hair up and back into a bun.

  “Whoa,” she whispered. He was just so damned beautiful with all those delightful lines and shadows on his face. His forearms exposed, along with the ink and the muscles as he washed his hands gave her a little thrill. She knew his strength. Knew the way his muscles felt as they flexed and bunched.

  And he was bringing her handmade carbs. “You’re a unicorn, Beau,” she told him.

  “I am?” He appeared amused as he cleaned off her countertops even though he had already done the same that morning. Another hot as fuck thing about him was that he seemed totally content to clean her kitchen with a depth and zeal she never even wanted to approach. But she was happy to watch him at it.

  “You’re gorgeous and sexy and you’re making me pasta, which is like my all-time favorite thing to eat. You’re smart and I love your sense of humor.” Cora tried for a nonchalant shrug but really it was more embarrassed. “You’re a lot of really good things rolled up into one person. I like you.”

  He glanced up, surprised pleasure on his face. “I like you too. I think you’re the gorgeous and sexy one who appreciates my food and lets me take over her kitchen even though I’m a little compulsive about cleaning it.”

  “Feel free to compulsively clean my bathroom anytime you like too.”

  “I think showering together might qualify. For future reference.”

  She clinked her wineglass to his. “We’re on the same page. Now. While you’re cooking you can tell me what’s going on.”

  She hopped up on a stool on the other side of the island from where he worked. Normally he didn’t need her to be his assistant and the way he moved around, using all the space, told her he needed to be alone in there.

  “How much do you know about Road to Glory and my history there?” he asked her as he began to clean and peel the eggplant.

  “I know you grew up inside a religious group your dad ran. Still runs I guess. You’re the oldest son so they were grooming you to take over. Some stuff happened and you needed to escape. They left the country and haven’t been found.”

  He barked a laugh before sobering. “You must like me to be so politic about it. Be blunt. I want to tell you, but there’s no need to have to repeat everything you already know.”

  “Okay. So your dad decided to hook up with underage girls and you helped the FBI. There was a gunfight situation but your father escaped, along with your mom and some of his other followers. A lot of people got hurt. Some went to jail. A bunch of children were taken without permission from the other parent if I remember right.”

  “When I was fifteen my dad decided it was time for me to marry and start the process to first replace my uncle and then take over for my dad. It was time for me to have children and show the rest how healthy and fertile the church could be. Our marriage wasn’t legal by state law, but at that time, the only law that mattered was my father’s law. The law of the Road.”

  He kept moving. Putting a pot of water to boil for the pasta.

  “Okay, let me back up a little from my wedding. Things started to change when I was about thirteen. We moved from suburban Nashville to the middle of nowhere Arizona. On a compound. All the kids were homeschooled but once we moved we weren’t allowed to go out into the world unaccompanied. No out
side media. No internet back then like it is now. There were cell phones but no smartphones. It was a creeping slow sort of snuffing out of all outside influence. Any influence but that of The Anointed, which was what my father had started to call himself by the time I was sixteen.

  “Then one day, after I’d been married, I woke up to an envelope that’d been slid under my door and inside was a letter from a mother in the group. Her thirteen-year-old daughter was being courted by my father and she was terrified. The daughter and the mother. She begged for my help.”

  Cora’s breath caught in her chest as she had to hold back any appearance of pity or horror. Though she felt both in the pit of her stomach. She knew somehow that he needed to get it all out before she said anything so she didn’t.

  She did, however, finish her wine and got herself and Beau another glass, pausing to kiss him before she hopped back up onto her stool.

  He leaned over the island to tap his glass to hers.

  “I believed her. Cora, I read that note and there was never even a struggle to believe it. It was a moment I was confronted with the truth I’d been hiding from, and I would either stand up and call it out, or go along with it and damn myself.

  “So I looked into her claim to get all the facts so I could go to my mother and uncle for help. I asked around, and when I was allowed to go to the private mailbox the church rented about two hours away from the compound, I was approached by an FBI agent who had more information for me. Some of our members who’d left had gone to the authorities about punishments. There were parents trying to gain access to children still living on the compound. Weapons charges. Wire fraud.”

  He dumped the sausage along with the eggplant into a pan and the scent of garlic lifted into the air on the steam.

  “I have some bread. Would you like me to make a quick batch of garlic bread? Nothing fancy, but it should be really good with dinner,” she said, needing to move or she’d do something stupid like cry or try to comfort him with dumb words.

  “Perfect. Yes, that’s good.”