Accidental Knight: A Marriage Mistake Romance(96)

Shit.

With Dragon in jail, I thought I hadn’t needed to be on high alert for him, but I should’ve been.

“Drake? I emailed that letter to Roger,” she says, appearing suddenly, pulling on a pair of leather gloves. “And now, I’m going to clean out some flowerbeds.”

Frowning, I look at the ground around the edge of the house. The grass goes all the way to the concrete block foundation. “What flowerbeds?”

“Exactly.” She holds up a finger while pulling something out of her back pocket. She taps on her phone screen and then turns it toward me. “I just took a picture of the picture of this house that hangs in the office. On the wall by the window.”

I know the picture. It’s decades old, Jonah, his wife, and Gary when they were much younger. Jonah said it was taken shortly before she died.

“See the flowerbeds?” she asks.

I can’t say I’d noticed them before, but do now. “Roses?”

“Yup. Plenty on each side of the steps, then daylilies and irises. I’m not sure what the white ones are, but I’ll find something like them once I get the grass out of all the beds.” She glances at the picture. “I’m going to use edging instead of the little wire fence, but in the end, it’ll look a lot like this. Restored to its former glory.”

“That would spruce up the place real nice, but you’re asking for a lot of work.”

She nods, tucking her phone back in her pocket. “And? Seems like we’re pretty well equipped here. Got myself a wheelbarrow, shovel, rake, hoe...” She lays a hand on my arm. “And some really awesome muscle.”

Goddamn. The shimmer in her eyes ropes me in.

“Yeah? What will I get out of this deal?”

“Hmmm.” She steps closer, tugging at the neckline of my shirt. “Satisfaction?”

Fuck. Only Bella Reed could make the blandest, most prim and proper word in the whole damn dictionary sound like a filthy promise.





I do my thinking in the fresh air, keeping her happy.

We spend the day working on those flowerbeds, and the satisfaction I get later, while we shower together to clean up, is worth the hours of breaking sod and hauling it away in a wheelbarrow.

In no time, she’s pinned against the wall, legs splayed, her sweet pussy helpless under my mouth. I tongue-fuck her halfway up the wall, till she gives up that little quake in her body that tells me she’s really ready.

Then we fuckin’ ride.

And when I say ride, I mean her, bent over, hands pressed to the wall. My fist in her hair. My dick hammering inside her. My palm drifting down to her mouth, where she sinks her little teeth in and screams, right before I bring her off so hard she leans against the cool tile wall for support.

I pull at least three orgasms out of her and love ’em all. Then I let myself go, just pounding, balls smacking her clit, this savage growl tearing out of me as hellfire arcs up my balls and leaves my spine in cinders.

Somehow, we stop just long enough to focus on dinner. It’s country fried steak and thick mashed potatoes tonight, considering the appetite we’ve worked up. She also makes me one hell of a salad.

I still don’t finish, though. Only get halfway through before I have to stand up, grab her by the hand, and lead her upstairs.

We go like hell all night.

And when it’s over, when she’s pumped every last drop from my balls, snoozing next to me like this soft, defenseless kitten, I flop back and wonder.

What have I gotten myself into with this wildcat woman?

What if this dead Dragon and Jupiter shit is hardly the worst of my problems?





The following morning, while she’s ordering seeds, bare-root plants, and bulbs online, I step outside when Gary calls.

“The lawyer gave him a bottle of eye drops. I confirmed it with the deputy watching them, who allowed it because the box was still sealed.”

“Eye drops?” Christ.

“Turns out, the dead man wore contacts. Brown ones. Without them, his eyes were green. Rodney checked Adam Briar’s driver’s license again, and it said brown eyes.”

My neck stiffens. “An imposter?”

“Almost certainly. That wasn’t Avery’s son.”

Goddamn. I knew it.

Anger rushes through me. “Then what the fuck’s going on? Seriously?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll call you this afternoon with more. I had Molly invite Avery to lunch, just to discuss a new offer so he thinks we’re still interested. It took...favors to get her to go along with it. She doesn’t understand why we’re wasting our time.”

“Don’t trust anything he says,” I snarl.

“I don’t. We’ll talk later.” Gary clicks off.

I shove my phone in my pocket, running one hand over my face.

I’m still in disbelief. How long had the dead asshole pawned himself off as Adam Briar?

Do I even have the right guy?

Was he truly Winnie’s killer, or had he entered the picture later? A fucking body double, which I always thought only high level scum would have. Guys like Hitler or Saddam Hussein.

Can’t say Daddy Briar isn’t rich enough to get one for his son, though. Money buys all kinds of nasty surprises.

I’d never gotten a good look at him.