The Safe Bet (Hidden Truths #1)(45)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN




SOMETHING HEAVY PRESSED AGAINST HER stomach, and the need to take a deep breath forced her awake. Kate’s eyes fluttered open, and she looked down to see Michael’s arm resting on her abdomen. His long, dark lashes lay against his bronzed skin. His chest gently rose and fell.

She wanted to shut her eyes and stay next to him for as long as possible. To will away the truth of what she’d learned earlier.

But she couldn’t hide forever.

She stared at the ceiling and swallowed as she processed her thoughts. Learning the truth was like losing her mom for the second time.

“Kate. How are you?” His palm cupped her chin, and he nudged her face close to his.

Their lips were only inches apart as she practically breathed out his name, “Michael.”

His brows pinched together, his eyes like blue glass. “I—”

“My father is on his way here,” she cut him off, worried he’d try to dance around the moment and turn into an ass—and right now she couldn’t deal with that. “He plans on taking me home.”

Michael’s head snapped back, and he immediately sat upright and rubbed a hand down his face. “Hell, no. You’re safe here, with me.”

Sure . . .

His voice softened a fraction as he said, “Kate, I don’t think going back to New York is a good idea, especially if that’s what your stalker wants.”

She scooted to the other side of the bed and stood. “I don’t know where I’ll be safe—maybe nowhere. But my father is an attorney; he knows people who can protect me.” She paused, and her shoulders shrank. “But I’m so angry at him for lying to me all these years. I don’t know if I can face him right now.” She looked down at the floor.

Her life had been a lie.

“Can I ask what he said to you?”

She ran her hands up and down her thighs, trying to slow her rapidly beating heart. “He didn’t say much of anything other than he was taking the first flight here. But it’s strange, huh?”

Michael came around in front of her and reached out, cupping her cheek. The gesture was sweet. And so damn confusing it hurt.

She sucked in a breath, taking note of his eyes, which were not as dark and appeared more like the Gulf of Mexico on a summer day. Or maybe her vision was off from all the crying.

“I don’t know who killed my mom, or if it’s the same person who is after me, but I kind of want it to be the same person,” she softly admitted.

He stared at her in silence, his eyes narrowing.

“I—I need it to be the same person because I want to bring my mother’s killer to justice. I have a better chance of finding her killer if he has already found me.”

Michael’s hand fell. “It sounds to me like you want to be bait.”

“Not bait . . . not any more than I already am.” She crossed her arms. “I have to find out who killed my mom.”

He wrapped a hand around the nape of his neck and stepped back. “Fine.” He cleared his throat. “We’ll find your stalker and your mother’s killer—even if they’re two different people. But we’re not using you as bait. Period.”

*


Michael slid off the barstool when he saw Kate approaching. She looked refreshed and energized after her shower. She had applied a little mascara and lip gloss and had thrown on a pair of blue jeans and a pink, Victoria’s Secret T-shirt.

He groaned, unsettled by his inappropriate desire. “You look better.”

“My dad sent me a text. He said he couldn’t get a flight until early tomorrow morning.” She approached the fridge and opened it. “I texted him the address of the hotel where I was staying before. He thinks I’ll be meeting him there at eight. He has no idea about you.” She peeked around the fridge door. “Could you meet him instead? I can’t face him.”

“Of course.” He preferred to have a one-on-one with her father anyway. “I’ll push my meeting until a little later.”

“I’m starving. Mind if I ransack your fridge? I stress eat.”

God, it was wonderful to be around a woman with an appetite. Someone who ate actual food. Not lettuce and carrot sticks.

Was there anything he didn’t like about her? He was trying to think of something as they finished their food awhile later. “You amaze me,” he said.

She finished her last bite of bowtie pasta and looked up at him. “What?”

He hadn’t meant to say that, but he couldn’t turn back now. “You just amaze me.” And that was all he would say. He stood up and grabbed a bottle of wine. “Want any?”

“Sure.”

“While you were in the shower, I spoke with Jake,” he said as he poured the wine. “He asked me to email him the guest list of the ball. He’s going to see if any of the guests had a connection to your mom.”

“Oh.”

When he handed her the glass, she briefly closed her eyes. “I didn’t mention this before because I didn’t think it was relevant, but I met someone at the ball who knew my mom. He told me I looked just like her. They were classmates.” She looked up at Michael. “I’m sure he has nothing to do with my stalker. I mean, we don’t even know if there is a relationship between her murder and what is happening to me.”