Page 41 of My Beautiful Sin

Then check the door.

And baby? Sleep tight.

I smile as I send him a heart emoji, then wait for the three dots indicating that he’s replying. But there’s nothing.

I frown, already sad the conversation has ended. But I do what he says and go to the front door. I open it to find a dozen roses on the doorstep. For a moment, I just stand there, my heart melting a little. Then I think to look out into the dark.

I don’t see him, but I know he’s there, and I blow him a kiss before taking the flowers inside, shutting the door, and sighing with such intense pleasure that I’m sure my heart will swell so much it will burst right out of my chest.

Brandy comes out of the kitchen carrying a glass of wine. She pauses, her eyes dipping to the flowers before she flashes an impish grin. “He may be complicated,” she says, “but he’s a keeper.”

I cradle the flowers. “Yeah,” I say. “He is.”

“Hang on. I’ll get you a vase.” She puts her wine down on the hall table then hurries back toward the kitchen. I start to follow but pause when the phone I’m still holding vibrates in my hand.

I grin as I put the flowers next to Brandy’s wine so that I can unlock the screen and read his message. Except it’s not from him, and my body goes cold as I read the words: Don’t you know you’re fucking a dangerous man?

Last night, I hadn’t wanted to ruin the sweetness, but I also knew that the vile text was probably sent from a burner, and the only way for Devlin to track it was that weird Type-O thing. So I forwarded him the text and the number it came from. He’d replied in seconds, and though I’d hesitated before checking, I ended up laughing.

Our asshole texter says:

“You’re fucking a dangerous man.”

But technically, you’re not.

At least not at the moment.

But if you want to let me

in your bed after all…

I’d laughed, and a few minutes later, he followed up.

I talked to Ronan. I talked to Lamar.

It’s not either one of them, I’m certain.

We’ll find the bastard. I’m on it.

In the meantime, sweet dreams. 😘

I smiled at the kiss emoji and debated replying with an eggplant, just to be silly. But instead, I sent him back a single heart, then tried to do what he said and put the whole thing out of my mind.

I’d managed—finally—but now that it’s morning, I’m thinking about it all over again. And I’m frustrated that I haven’t heard anything more. Does his silence mean that, like last time, the number the text came from was a dead end? Or does it mean that Devlin’s found the guy, is beating the shit out of him, and thinks I won’t approve?

Since Lamar and I aren’t heading up to LA until lunchtime, Shelby and I head over to the DSF so that I can not only thank Devlin in person for the roses, but so that I can also find out if he’s learned anything about this latest disturbing text.

I hurry into the building, barely pausing to signal to Paul that I’m going to go on up.

He’s on the phone, but I see him flash a thumbs-up as I hurry toward the elevator. I press the button to call the car. The indicator lights up, signaling its arrival, and I take an automatic step forward.

Then I stop cold as the doors open with a whisper to reveal none other than Regina Taggart.

“Ellie Holmes, right?” I can practically hear the smile in her voice as she thrusts out her hand in greeting. “Regina Taggart. Reggie. We met yesterday at the Inn.”

“Great to see you,” I say as we shake. “Are you here to see Devlin?”

Her brow furrows. “Well, he was supposed to be in the meeting—symposium planning—but since he’s out of town, it was just me and Tamra.”