"But?"
"I wouldn't put it past him to manipulate. To scheme. To set up a situation where someone else takes the fall." He held Dove’s gaze. "Karl's always been about Karl. If Trent's useful to him, he'll be his best friend. The second Trent becomes a problem—or more valuable as a scapegoat than a partner—Karl won't think twice about throwing him under the bus. And the problem is Trent, even when he’s being a dick, he’s got a heart the size of this country. He’s as true as they come, and he tends to see the good in people. All people. Even assholes like Karl.”
"Trent told me about the probation."
“That’s the kind of person he is.” Cullen's voice hardened. “He takes care of people, even when they don't deserve it. And Karl walked away clean. Pissed off Fallon.”
"So you think Karl could do it again?"
"In a heartbeat. He doesn't have loyalty—he has interests. If Trent keeps saying no?" Cullen shrugged. "Karl will find a way to make yes the only option. Or he'll find a way to make Trent pay for refusing."
Dove absorbed this, fitting it into the picture she'd been building all day. "Any idea who his clients might be? The ones with deep pockets?"
"No clue. And truthfully, Karl could be bullshitting to get Trent to bite.”
Dove pushed to a standing position. “Thanks for the intel. I appreciate it. If you hear anything or happen to see Karl, let me know. We’ll be in touch.”
“Thanks.” Cullen hopped to his feet. “If you need anything else, you know where to find me. And Dove?”
“Yeah?”
"Watch your back. I've never trusted Karl and I trust the people around him less. If someone's targeting Trent—if this is about more than money or petty bullshit—Karl might not think twice about going through anyone standing next to him."
"I can handle myself."
"I know you can. Just saying—be careful." Something in his expression softened. "Trent's already lost enough. His dad. His mom. That gator who made his moat her home. He acts like he can handle anything, but everyone's got a breaking point. Don't let him find his by losing you, too."
The words hit harder than they should have.
"For what it's worth—I'm glad he's got you. He's been alone too long. Not physically, but..." Cullen tapped his chest. "In here. He keeps everyone at arm's length, even the people who love him. If you've gotten past that, you must be something special."
Dove nodded once, not trusting her voice, and turned to head back up the dock, her boots hollow on the weathered wood.
Her phone buzzed before she'd made it halfway back to the marina building.
She pulled it out, half-expecting it to be Buddy with another dead end or her uncle with another complication.
Warmth bloomed behind her ribs when she saw the name on the screen.
Trent: Dinner at the pub? I'll buy.
She read it twice, then a third time, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
Trent Mallor. Asking her to dinner. In public. Voluntarily.
This was progress. For both of them, maybe—but mostly for Trent. The man who'd spent three weeks barely able to sit at at the local pub without looking like he wanted to bolt. The man who'd been drowning in grief so deep she wasn't sure he'd ever surface.
Dove: Be there in 20. And I'm paying. You bought last time.
Trent: There was no last time. We've never been on a real date before.
She grinned at the screen.
Dove pocketed the phone and headed for her truck, the setting sun warm on her shoulders, Cullen's words still echoing in her mind.
She wasn't something special. She was just stubborn enough not to give up on someone who'd forgotten they were worth fighting for.
And Trent Mallor, whether he knew it or not, was absolutely worth fighting for.
