Now his smile turned down-right wicked.
I almost ran to his bike and got on. Instead, my thighs weakened and my breath just up and stopped. “You’re making dinner, then. After you talk to the Lordes members and their girlfriends. By the way, why are you in town?”
He lost the smile. “I gave bail money to the two Lordes members and didn’t know their women were going to cause a ruckus. How did they find you, anyway?”
“They followed Teddy and Kelsey from the police station, it sounded like.” I shook my head. “The police are looking for those women again, Aiden.”
“I’m sure they’ve already headed to Washington,” he murmured. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”
I flicked the coconut flakes off his shirt. “So you’re back undercover?”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “We think we have the cover as solid as possible, but I’m gonna have to stay out of town during the operation to remain off everyone’s radar—starting today now that I helped bail out those women.”
I pushed my sticky hair out of my face. “This doesn’t sound safe. You’re dealing with a criminal who likes to make bombs.”
“I know, and I have to find out who he’s making those bombs for, Angel. It’s my job. I deal with explosives more than I’d like.” He took my hands and rubbed the dried frosting off my thumb. “As soon as we get a name and a campaign, I’ll be out. It’s definitely the last time I can use this cover. Or any cover around here, probably.”
I didn’t like how that sounded. “Okay.”
He kissed the top of my nose, and even that heated my blood. “Don’t worry. If I go under somewhere else, I’ll still consider this home.”
The idea of his leaving mixed with the reality that he dealt with bombs and my temples began to ache. It was a huge risk for him to try to keep the Lordes cover, even though he was acting so casual about it. Too many people knew who he really was. “I have to get back to work.” I leaned up and kissed his jaw.
“I’ll see you at home,” he murmured.
A lump settled in my throat and I turned to hurry inside my building.
Aiden Devlin dealt with danger so often that right now, when the world was crumbling, he seemed already at home. What was I going to do with that?
Chapter 17
Cream filling squished in my shoes as I walked into my law office. I’d tried to clean up as much as possible at the main restroom in the building, but there wasn’t a whole lot I could do. It seemed like a good idea to start leaving a couple sets of clothing at the office just in case. I reached Clark’s room. “There was a bit of a scurfuffle at the diner,” I said.
Clark looked over my hair and clothing. “Did you get in a food fight?”
“Kind of.” I gave him the lowdown, and to his credit, he didn’t laugh too much.
Then he sobered completely. “Please tell me there wasn’t anybody from the local press there eating lunch. Please.”
I bit my lip and still tasted like strawberry. “I didn’t see anybody I knew. No photographers or reporters.” I shuffled my feet. “But there were some teens who got pictures and video, I’m pretty sure.”
Clark’s chin dropped. He shut his eyes. “Crap.”
I winced. “It’s possible nothing will happen.”
He opened his intense brown eyes. “Not with your luck. With your luck? One of those teens is already selling the video and pictures to Jolene O’Sullivan at the paper right this very second.”
I swallowed. “The newspaper doesn’t have a lot of money.”
He pushed documents away from his glass of water, which was set neatly on a coaster. “They have enough money to buy pictures from teens. Besides, I’d bet that Jolene would spend her own money to write a damaging article about you.”
That was unfortunately a true statement.
He turned to his computer and typed rapidly, scanning the local news. “Nothing yet. Who knows, maybe we could get lucky this one time.”
“Sure.” On that note, I squished my way to my office, where I ditched my sodden shoes beneath my desk. I pulled up the calendar system Pauley had installed to see that I had an hour free, so I dug through files to Don McLerrison’s so I could scan the papers he’d left. I grinned. The farmer had left not only account numbers but passwords so I could get into all of his accounts. Reaching for a notepad, I started filling out his estate planning documents.
After the hour, I sat back and looked over the notes, my head reeling. Wow. The farm was worth a couple of million dollars, and that was nothing compared to the investments McLerrison’s wife had managed. The woman must’ve been a financial genius. At the end of the day, the estate was worth about twelve million dollars.
