“Never. Let’s make a deal. You never kick me out again, and I’ll never leave you.” I take her hands so she can’t pull away and look into her ocean eyes. “I promise to never leave you.”
Leighton smiles, and she doesn’t try to get free of my grip. “I know. And I’ll never kick you out again. I might ask you to sleep on the couch though.” She chuckles.
“I’m not sleeping on the couch. I’m putting in a rule that we don’t go to bed mad. I’ll eat your pussy for hours straight until you forgive me if I have to.”
“Jeez, Hayes.” She’s protesting, but her blush says she loves it when I talk to her like that. “Oh!” She squirms out of my arms, and I want to grab her shirt and tug her back. “There’s another reason I called you up here.”
“What is it?” My head tilts.
She opens one of the dresser drawers and pulls out a phone, bringing it over to me. I sit on the edge of the bed and pat my leg for her to sit on my lap, which she does.
“I found this phone in Patrick’s backpack. It was an extra one. I charged it, and that night there was a call on it. I answered.”
My eyebrows lift.
“It was a private investigator that Patrick hired. He claimed that since he hadn’t heard from Patrick, he was going to destroy the photos because he had never received payment.”
“Did he say why Patrick hired him?”
She shakes her head. “No. He said if I pay him, he’ll tell me.”
“And did you pay him?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know if I want to know. I mean, there are only so many reasons a man has a second phone, and he hired a PI. Something is up. I could let it all remain a secret…”
“What do you want to do?” If I was her, I would’ve already paid, but I also understand why she might want to let the secret die with them.
She mulls it over, then blows out a breath. “I think I want to know. Is that bad? Is it an invasion of privacy?—”
“You’re raising his three kids. It doesn’t necessarily mean what you’re thinking. It could be something other than infidelity.”
She nods. “Okay, I’m gonna call the PI back.”
I kiss her cheek and run my hand up and down her back in silent support.
She calls the number, and I hear her end of the conversation. She tells him to send her the bill, and she’ll pay it. Then he’ll get her the pictures.
It takes the guy a minute to get us the invoice, and since I have my wallet on me and her purse is downstairs, I put it on my credit card. I wanted to volunteer anyway, but I didn’t want to overstep.
Minutes after we pay the invoice, she receives an email from the investigator.
“Wait!” she says before we can click on the pictures. “I don’t want to do it here. Let’s go into the guest room.”
“Are you worried about bad energy or something?”
She shrugs. “Just in case. This room is ours now, and I want whatever those pictures show to stay out of it.”
I laugh but understand. “Lead the way.”
We get into the guest room, and we settle on the edge of the bed, side by side, our thighs and arms brushing.
“Ready?” she asks.
“I feel like I should be asking you that.”
“I am.”
She nods and clicks on the link, and when the first picture comes up, we say in unison, “What the hell?”
