Page 10 of Love and Forgiveness (Rough & Ready Country #6)

Chapter Six

IZZIE

I’ve got my brother, Kurt, on speaker as I drive to the museum.

I’m glad I didn’t have the kids this morning, as I spent it compiling records and evidence.

I’ve done this for days, finding more in PastRecord every time I turn around.

I have to be careful snooping, as this is not a part of my job description as a museum director.

Instead, I’m supposed to focus on budgets, grant writing, meeting state regulations, and overall operations.

But the more I dig, the more discrepancies I find.

I can’t turn a blind eye to it any longer.

I continue conversing with my brother. “So, yeah, Wolfe’s company got the contract. We’ll see what happens today. I’ve got everything ready, and I can’t wait to see what conclusion he comes to. I wish I were wrong about this whole thing, but it looks bad.”

“You’re doing the right thing, sis. I’d love to help you, but I’ve got my hands full at the moment.

If this goes another direction, I’ve got you covered.

” Kurt’s former Navy and a current bounty hunter.

I turned to him when I first started noticing problems at the museum.

He’s the only person I’ve confided in up to this point.

My heart races as I think about turning this information over to Wolfe.

It’s a risky move, but I’m out of options.

“I know things have gotten weird between you two over the years, and I know you said he cheated on you. But honestly, there’s still nobody I trust more.

I’m not trying to pick sides, but he’s given me no reason to doubt him.

Especially when it comes to keeping you safe.

I’ll say it again, though. Be careful, sis.

When the shit hits the fan on this one, the consequences will be steep.

That means people with everything to lose.

Make sure you’re out of their way when it happens.

I know you, and this is not the time to back anybody into a corner. ”

I nod. Reminding myself he can’t see me, I add, “Yes. I just hope I can trust Wolfe. I guess we’ll see.”

“Look, sis, I’ve got to go. But keep me posted on everything that’s going on. I wouldn’t have told you to trust Wolfe unless I knew with unequivocal certainty he won’t let you down. Despite everything that’s happened between you two, he’s loyal as fuck. And a force to be reckoned with.”

My heart lodges in my throat as I enter the museum parking lot. I see Wolfe’s black dually parked near the employee entrance. “Alright, bro, wish me luck. And good luck with your job.”

“I’m gonna need it,” he replies with a deep-throated laugh.

After he ends the call, I make a mental note to follow up on that last phrase.

I’ve been so caught up in workplace intrigue that I haven’t been as good a listener as I should be.

And Kurt’s a lot like Wolfe—a man of few words that you have to pry everything out of.

It’s fifteen minutes to eight, and Wolfe’s waiting in his truck, talking on speaker phone.

I knew he’d get here early. After parking, I get out and hear his foster brother Travis’s voice.

I can’t tell you the last time I saw Travis.

But he’s a great guy—into vintage cars and recently married with a baby.

It’s a significant change from the ladies’ man I knew a few years back.

I’d love the full scoop from Wolfe. But I’ve avoided long conversations with my estranged husband for the past three months for obvious reasons. Like what happened between us in the museum parking lot on Friday night.

My cheeks glow thinking about it. How am I going to look him in the face? At our Saturday custody exchange, I buried my head in my phone, acting busy. Today, I’ll have no such prop to fall back on.

My pulse pounds, and my stomach knots as I hear Wolfe’s conversation with Travis finish.

I guess I’m about to find out. I open the tailgate of the 4Runner, pulling out my laptop bag.

I’m shaking from head to toe, and I try to tell myself it’s because of the packet of evidence in my bag, not the sight of my almost-ex-husband.

He gets out of the truck, and my eyes wash over him for a moment, admiring how his dark wash Levis and black dress shirt enhance his muscular build.

He’s also got on black cowboy boots and a brown Stetson, making him look like the delicious, rugged, morally gray hero of a silver screen American Western.

I’m not the only one with a sweeping gaze, though.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice how he takes me in from head to toe.

I’m wearing an A-line gray houndstooth patterned skirt, a black cashmere sweater with delicate pearl buttons, and my new Louboutins.

I don’t typically wear heels, as it makes me tower over everyone.

But Wolfe easily dwarfs me despite the added inches.

And although I hate to admit it, I’ve pulled out all the stops fashion-wise since Wolfe’s return to Rough & Ready.

Clearly, I’m a lousy almost-ex-wife. A pretty black-and-white silk scarf covers my neck and his forbidden kiss from the other night.

His eyes go to it, and he smiles amusedly.

My eyes meet his, and I let out a strangled whimper as the heat from them drill into me.

Yep, this is going to be as challenging as I anticipated.

Everything about our relationship may be shot to hell, but not the searing chemistry.

I hope Kurt’s right about this whole thing because being around Wolfe professionally will try every stitch of my self-control.

Just like it did in Afghanistan—a test I failed once.

I can’t let things go the way they did back then because this time, I know the ending.

Wolfe won’t change his nomadic ways. He’ll leave the brunt of parenting and domesticity solely to me at the expense of my career.

And we’ll grow apart until there’s no way to fit back together.

Finally, he’ll cheat on me overseas, leaving me broken and bitter. Again.

I shake my head, trying to clear it. But nothing helps around him. How he looks at me now makes me feel nearly as out of control and desperate as the other night in this parking lot.

I have to get a hold of myself. I take a deep breath, straightening my back and waving him to follow me inside. I want to ask how Travis is doing, but I don’t trust my voice. And I’m also reluctant to admit I was eavesdropping even though he had the volume on his truck’s speakerphone turned up.

Instead, I settle on silence. I do my best not to fumble with the lock and the alarm system as I let us inside.

The docents will start straggling in soon, and I’d like to have this conversation without anyone else around.

As we walk by, I nod at Chuck, the janitor, knowing it’s impossible to meet here without at least one employee present.

But I highly doubt Chuck has any involvement in this.

The path to my office feels like it stretches into eternity.

It’s not lost on me that Wolfe and I have swapped ass-staring roles.

I can feel his hot eyes on me all the way to my office.

I hate to admit it. But I love the feeling of power that washes over me.

Of course, this makes it even more embarrassing when I forget to look where I’m going and nearly stumble to my knees.

Wolfe’s there in a heartbeat, his colossal frame holding me up as his arm threads possessively around my waist. I’m naturally clumsy, and I’ve lost count of how many times he’s caught and balanced me over the years.

Moreover, I’m asking for trouble in Louboutins.

I know this. But his solid frame steadies me and steals my breath, as does the playful way he swats my ass after making sure I have my balance again. The gesture stirs bittersweet memories.

My heart’s racing by the time I unlock my office.

For one satisfying moment, I imagine locking the door behind us and letting him ravage me on my desk.

I see him swipe the papers to the side with a bold sweep of his arm before pulling me to the edge of the desk and diving into my pussy.

My panties go instantly moist, and my cheeks flush.

I stare hard at the nameplate on my paper-lined desk, reminding myself I’m a museum director.

These thoughts won’t do. I need more self-control than this, especially under the circumstances.

I can’t deny the part of me that’s a total coward. I haven’t looked back at my almost ex-husband once since we entered the museum. Even when he helped me with my wobble. I don’t look at him now as I invite him to sit, heading to the comfortable leather chair behind my desk.

I finally allow my eyes to settle on his face only after I’m seated.

I let out an involuntary sigh, blushing.

God, he’s gorgeous. Our eyes lock, and I don’t know how long we stare at each other.

What I would give to know his thoughts right now.

That’s funny, considering I don’t even know the crazy jumbles that are my own.

I open my mouth to speak. So does he, at the exact same moment.

Both of us stop politely, and I clear my throat. His cheeks look darker than usual, too. This man should not be allowed to blush. It kills me every time. He looks down, fingering the cowboy hat resting on his knee.

I take a deep breath. I need to start meditating or something to clear this tangle of lusty thoughts from my mind. As the director, I realize I should lead the conversation, so I try again. “What are you going by these days?”

“Private Ormsby works.”

I nod with a slight smile.

“Why are you smiling?”

“I should have known. Even as owner of your own security company, you go by the same title as your employees.” Private citizen. It was the norm among private military contractors in Afghanistan, a sort of egalitarian gesture rather than going by their former military ranks.