Billion Dollar Bad Boy (Big City Billionaires)(10)

I was weak.

And I didn't care.

The ride to the post office was quick. I'd delayed until the building was near closing time. Rushing, I pulled into the lot so hard my tires kicked up dirt.

I have to hurry. What if, what if today...

The slight hope that this time, a gift would be waiting for me, was enough to make me run. Shoving inside, I stared straight at my locker.

Facing away from me was a man.

It was that lanky, young guy who worked here, his jacket partially hiding his uniform. He'd opened my locker on top, where the workers could drop the mail inside.

In his hand... was a letter.

“It's you,” I gasped, startling him.

Twisting around, that guy—Kerie—stared at me in disbelief. The letter in his hand crinkled from his tension. “Excuse me?”

Step by step, I approached him. Rage and confusion tormented my insides. Suddenly, everything was clicking together. “Of course. It's the only way you could put the packages in my locker without addressing them. You're...” I swallowed. “S?”

His brow knotted, but he didn't move. “No. You've got the wrong idea.”

I stopped, my heels digging in. We were mere feet away. “Don't lie to me.” After everything, my mystery admirer would dare try and—

“I'm serious!” Lifting his arms like I had a gun on him, he offered the letter. “The guy you're talking about? He's been paying me to stick this stuff in your mail. I don't know who he is, but I'm sorry for being so sly. Just please, don't tell my boss.”

My confidence crumbled. Taking the envelope, I looked from it, to Kerie. No. There was definitely no way this young, nervous man was my S.

“You met him?” All at once, my ribs became too small. “What's he like?”

Crookedly smiling, Kerie shrugged. “I don't know. I can't judge guys. I guess he looks fine.”

“No, not what he looks like, I meant...” It didn't matter. I could tell from Kerie's comment that he would give me nothing. Did I care what S looked like? Maybe somewhere deep down I did, but our connection was woven from something else. Not rock hard abs or chiseled cheekbones, this relationship was—how did I even describe it?

Fuller. Deeper.

Meaningful.

I squeezed the letter, then brushed it softly. “So what, this guy just showed up one day and demanded you put things in my mail?”

“Kind of. He came in, told me he needed me to slip those packages to you. I tried to explain it was against the rules, but he offered me a lot of money.” His blush was furious. “Really, I'm sorry for playing dumb.”

It was hard to stay angry. Especially now, with news from S between my fingers. I clutched the letter tightly. “I won't tell anyone. But, if I'm ever in here when he is... promise you'll point him out to me.”

Kerie shifted side to side, hands in his pockets. “If I can be subtle, okay. I will.”

That was good enough.

I started to turn, cradling the square of paper like it was made of glass. Kerie called out to me, stopping my retreat. “Wait!” I turned back. “There's one more thing in here.” Reaching through the top of the locker, he withdrew a slim, long box, about the size of a pillow.

There was another gift, and I'd almost left it behind.

“Thanks,” I whispered, taking it gently. My face hurt; when had I begun smiling? “I—I should go. Good night, Kerie.”

He gave me a brief wave, leaning on the locker until I was long out of sight.

I wondered what he thought about all of this. For almost a month, he'd been accepting money in exchange for playing the part of a stealthy delivery boy. S was determined to keep his identity secret from me.

My curiosity burned brighter than ever.

Clicking off the car engine, I gathered everything and entered my house. Again, I did a quick check, rushing to make sure no one was hiding inside. I almost skipped it, but old habits die hard.

Making myself a cup of tea, I sat on the couch, looking between the two objects. Which should I open first, the letter or the box? They'd each give their own brand of answers.

In the end, I was too eager for the intimacy that his written words gave me.

Setting my mug down, I pried the envelope open carefully. Already, heat was swirling in my core, my heart punching against my ribs. This man had me wrapped around his little finger.

The intoxication of a new message made me not even care.

Pet,

I'm sorry for making you wait. I wanted to give you a taste of what it would be like to live without me. For some time now, you've been accepting my gifts.

Now it's my turn.

I want my gift.

I want you.

Our game is ready for the next level—something far more personal.

Something... intimate.

Tomorrow night, I'll send someone to pick you up. Go with them. No questions, no backing out. I don't want this to end here, and I suspect you don't either.

Enjoy the dress. I'm eager to see you in it.

P.S. Wear the earrings.

—S

Opening the box, I unfolded the glossy, brilliantly silver gown. It had a lovely weight to it, split up one side and with a back that dipped daringly low. It was more beautiful than anything else I owned.

Bending close, I caught of whiff of something. It wasn't the feminine perfume of a woman. This was a vague, but tantalizing scent of the mountains. It reminded me of a winding trail that weaved beneath ancient oak trees. As I inhaled again, goosebumps rippled over my flesh.