“I’ll let you know when I’m ready for that favor,” Gabe said. “Night, sis.”
“Goodnight, you two.”
She had not known the kind of emotion that would rock through her as the news sank in—they were safe, the family was actually safe—but as the group gathered around in one, giant hug, Sloane broke down at last. Sobs rocked through her body as the tears welled, then spilled over her cheeks. She heard other sniffles in the mix as they processed this new development.
Peace replacing panic.
Hope squelching despair.
“Guess we should call Emmitt and tell him the good news,” Maverick said after a pause.
All eyes went to Sloane. She noted the many brows lifted in question as they awaited her response.
Sloane’s heart burned as she recalled what he’d said before tearing out of the house. The hot, stinging ache warned her that the tears she’d already shed were nothing compared to those to come. She nodded, wiped her cheeks, and mustered the words she needed to say.
“Yes,” she agreed, “he will be so relieved. Unfortunately, I need to respect what he said. I will head back to my cabin, and then you guys can make the call. I plan to take the first flight home tomorrow.”
Chapter 21
Emmitt shrugged from his side to his back and let out a sigh.
No harm no foul. His family had actually applied those words to this scenario. Were they insane? Sloane had pretended to be someone she wasn’t, all to gather intel on one of their own. And that was only the beginning.
His mind raced through all the getting-to-know-you time they’d shared since she arrived. Their first date—who’d started that whole talk about the pie chart, him or her? If it was Sloane, it was genius and no doubt part of a master plan to get inside his head. If it was Emmitt, well, heck, he’d just stepped right into her trap from day one, hadn’t he?
There he was falling in love, relinquishing parts of himself he hadn’t imagined letting go of before. Meanwhile, Sloane was using his feelings to manipulate him into giving her what she’d come for. And stupid, stupid him—he’d practically handed Ava over on a platter. After convincing his family it was safe to let Sloane in. She could be trusted. Heck, they were in love, for crying out loud. And it wasn’t like that was a slow process for Richard, Memphis, or Andie. So why did Emmitt’s situation have to turn out like this?
He shrugged from his back to the opposite side this time, too sick and restless to hold still. “A private investigator,” he mumbled. “What the heck’s the matter with you, Emmitt?”
He clenched his eyes shut, wondering if this was some cruel payback for the many times he’d played unsuspecting women out there. No, he hadn’t claimed he loved any of them—that would be going too far—but he may have, without thinking about it, made those ladies think they weren’t worthy of love. Not even worth his time. Like they had nothing to offer.
Even still, Emmitt didn’t like the idea of some jerk doing that to Sloane. In fact, he realized as a new knot of fire flared in his chest, he hated the idea ofanyother man cozying up to her, good intentions or not.
He cursed under his breath. Stupid love. Why couldn’t he just…fall out of it now? Pull back and stop loving her for all the hurt she’d caused.
A buzz sounded from his phone on the nightstand. Great, that’s all he needed. It was nearly five in the morning, he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, and now he had some text to chew on. It was probably Andie trying to make one last plea on Sloane’s behalf. Didn’t they know that she’d snowed them like she had him?
They all loved her because she was way too easy to love. She was light and witty, good at sarcasm and jokes. She really did have a good memory like him, able to call back things he’d shared in ways that made him feel heard, seen, and yes, even loved.
A rush of tingly warmth replaced the burning in his chest. He wanted that feeling to stay, even if it was an illusion. Emmitt was ready to love. He was ready to be loved. It was real for him, and if he were honest, there was still a part of him that believed it might have been real for her too.
His phone buzzed out a reminder of the text he’d neglected. He gave in this time, snatching the device from its spot and tapping the screen.
Sloane.It was a long one too, by the looks of it.
His heart broke into a series of jumping jacks at the sight of her name. She was leaving, she had made that much clear. According to his siblings, they’d convinced her to take the afternoon flight so she could get some sleep before heading out. But it looked as if she wasn’t catching any Z’s either.
Was it possible that her heart hurt the way his did? Not with guilt over what she’d done, but with…missing him? Missing the future they hoped to have? The incredible feeling that swirled around his heart every time he thought about her?
Sloane:Day 2: I am wondering if you can help me. I might be in over my head. You see, Emmitt Duran, the guy I am working with, is too handsome for his own good. He is smooth and charming too, but not in that cheesy, obvious way. If I do not watch out, I will get reeled in and lose my focus.
Day 6: I am wondering if you can help me. Of all the jobs I have taken, of all the guys I have warmed up to to gather intel, I have never met one like this. It is not work when we are together, it’s play. And it is so, so good. I am trying to focus on the case—I am a professional after all, and this case must be cracked. If I do not do my part, my client might never get the closure he is looking for.
Day 10: I am wondering if you can help me. I have risen the white flag where my heart is concerned, not that it was ever mine to surrender. I believe it belonged to Emmitt Duran all along, I just did not know it. I am in love, and it feels deep and wonderful and beyond repair. Though how can I call love broken? I know I cannot waste this lead—it was a promising one, and I have been neglecting my suspicions about the case, but I do not know if I can risk losing what I have with Emmitt. It is like choosing between my honor and my heart. I do not know how to do life without both.
Day 21: I am wondering if you can help me. I followed my hunch, cracked the case I was working on, and then discovered I had been lied to all along. Anna was not a thief on the run. She was a victim of domestic violence at the hand of the very man who hired me. I reached out immediately, got in touch with people who could help. With a Plan B in our back pocket, we executed Plan A, and it worked. Anna, whose name is now Ava, is safe. They all are. The problem is, I do not know how to make Emmitt believe that I fell as hard for him as he fell for me. By the time I admitted I liked him, I was already in love. And that has not changed. I am not sure it ever will.
Emmitt blinked, dazed as he lifted his gaze from the screen into the darkness across his room. Sloane had given him, in a sense, a rundown of her feelings throughout their story. Of her growing dilemma as their time together progressed.
