"Or proof," adds Braden.
Without a word, I reach into the pocket of my purse and hold up a silver and black thumb drive. It's hilarious watching everyone's mouth fall open for a second, yet I don't dare laugh.
Ansel's arm squeezes my waist. "Umm, you didn't."
"Umm…I did."
He takes me out into the front hall, not that it's really any more private. He cups my face in both hands. "Are you sure, baby?" he murmurs softly. "We'll do everything we can tomake sure you-know-who doesn't get into trouble, but we can't guarantee it."
"You-know-who broke the rules," I point out. "She ignored every security protocol that was put into place so the files don't get copied and stolen."
I place the drive in his hand. "So they got copied and stolen. Oops."
Braden bursts into laughter, clearly listening. "Ansel, your girl is awesome. Why haven't you introduced her to us before?"
Ansel's lips brush my forehead, and I'm not sure how I feel about him being so tender right in front of his family. On the other hand, it feels incredible. He's not hiding me. He's not pretending that we're just friends, or that this is casual. He's already acting like we are really together, in front of the most important people in his life.
"Yes," he says with a gorgeous smile. "She really is." Then he whispers, "I can't believe you did this for me."
He taps the thumb drive on the tip of my nose, then he tosses it to Corbin, who slides it into his laptop.
Ansel leads me to sit beside him on the couch again while the files open. Braden and Corbin lean over the laptop, scanning everything.
Finally Corbin says, "Holy shit. That rat bastard."
He's staring so hard at the screen that he doesn't notice Carol stand up, take three steps toward him, then lightly smack his bicep as she coughs delicately. "Language in front of ladies, son."
Then she turns to me, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Lynn, can I get you tea, water, anything?"
"No thanks, I'm fine."
Wow, I could take notes on the way she smiles so sweetly. "Ansel mentioned that you made pasta and meatballs, but with turkey. Very clever."
"I think they're a bit lighter."
"Which means you can have more of them," Ansel adds. "My girl is an excellent cook, a great web designer, and clearly a top-notch spy."
"Web designer?" Braden's head perks up. "We'll have to chat about that when all of this bull—" His eyes snap to his mother. "Cra—" She gives him a look and he tries one last time. "Unpleasantnessis over."
Everything becomes loud and chaotic, in a positive way. Corbin confirms that the documents really are from City Hall, not that I think they doubted me, but just in case. I learn that he used to work in security. Braden seems to know most of the people on the list of concerned citizens, making notes about contacts and connections.
The guys talk loudly, sometimes over top of each other. They're clearly so comfortable together that they finish each other's thoughts. It's amazing.
Carol slips a glass of ice water with lemon in front of me, and points to the bowls full of nuts and pretzels on the coffee table. As she chats with Dash at the end of the room, it sounds like she really did bond with Bridget's mother, and is so pleased that he has found such a wonderful girl.
Every time there's a question to be answered, all eyes turn to Ansel. With such huge personalities all expecting him to be their leader, that must be a lot of pressure. I couldn't imagine what he must have gone through at work. But it doesn't seem to faze him.
"If we tell people what we found out, they're going to want to know how we came across the information," Corbin announces. "If we don't say anything, they'll think that we stole it."
"And since you're the security expert, people will suspect you," Dash says. "Or Ansel, as the computer guy."
"The files are from a shared server," Braden says. "There are probably a few dozen people who could have access."
"No matter who has access, if they replace the old surveys showing our original property lines with the new bogus ones where Lloyd has taken ridiculous liberties and basically stolen 650 acres of our land, there will be no way to prove that the previous ones ever existed," Carol says sadly.
Ansel drums his fingertips on my knee while he thinks. "Mom, did Dad ever have any printouts of the property line? Even if they were ancient?"
Carol sighs. "I don't know. Back in those days, we just relied on stakes in the ground tied with those ribbon things."
