Page 44 of The Crowned Garza

Will was meant to be a one-night stand, but he refuses to let that be the case and I keep giving in because the sex is good and he’s as fun and wild as one would expect a youthful rock band musician would be.

Still, nothing or no one’s been able to make my brain melt, my senses go haywire, or my body set itself aflame the way Santo Luciani’s dark presence does. Touch not needed. I need only to smell him.

Will and I made plans to meet up tonight. A night that’ll undoubtedly leave a lasting mark for my “wild twenties” memories. But... “Guy will be dropping by soon…”

Who do I want to see more?

Lower lip trapped between my teeth, I watch Will’s name flash on the screen, deliberating.

Decision made, I send the call to voicemail.

~

I’M WANDERING AROUNDupstairs, seeing the house in a new light, snapping pictures from every angle as decor ideas swirl around in my head, when a chime echoes throughout the house.

He’s here.

I take off my duster jacket and set it aside, then plump up my cleavage in my tie-front crop top.

Bad, Tillie, bad.

Although my eyes are itching to be graced with his detrimentally faultless beauty, I hold off from rushing downstairs. Giving him some time to get to his task, giving myself time to gather my wits and not make an ass of myself again.

Just knowing he’s in the house causes a buzzing sensation under my skin. Unable to wait any longer—it’s only been eight minutes—I head downstairs.

The surveillance room is adjacent to the office that’s down the hall from the left off the main area. Traces of his scent linger on the air. If I didn’t know the layout of this house, all I’d have to do is follow that intoxicating scent to find him.

When I’m a foot away from the surveillance room door, I stop and press my back against the wall, anticipation tickling my fingertips.Why am I so nervous all of a sudden?Do I really want to go in there knowing it’ll only end in him saying something rude to piss me off or something patronizing that’ll leave me feeling like a nettlesome, naive brat?

Inwardly, I slap inner me across the face to shake off the nerves and get a grip. Because I’m Tillie Garza.He’sthe fraud. I’m—

“I can smell you out there,” his flat, bored voice comes from inside the room.

A whispered curse leaves me as I belatedly remember there’s a camera in the hallway, which means he saw me coming. Hell, there are hidden cameras all over the place, hence a freaking surveillance room in a three-bedroom house.

I push off from the wall and close the gap to the doorway. “Oh, yeah? What do I smell like?”

He’s “Guy” again. Bow tie, suspenders, glasses. Neat, crisp, seamless, not a hair out of place. Even thoughSaintis who I’m hot for, while “Guy” generally pisses me off, that face, regardless of who’s in character, never fails to make my heart trip and stumble over itself.

“Ruin, damnation, bad ideas, and bitter mistakes,” he replies without averting his attention from his task at hand.

“Well, damn, that sounds delectable.” I walk into the room. “Didn’t know I smell so good.”

“Subjective.” He swings his gaze to me now, tracing every inch of my face before drifting lazily down my body. His languid perusal is like a daring caress along my skin. “That’s some outfit for a Wednesday night,” he comments, his inflection neutral. “Date night with the drummer?”

These are the times when it irritates me that he knows so much about what’s going on in my life. Makes it difficult for me to fib to provoke him or maintain some semblance of mystery.

I glance down at my revealing miniskirt set. “Something like that.”

“Hm. Don’t let me hold you up.” He shifts his attention back to the computer. “You’re not needed for anything here and this update will take a while. If you want to revoke my access to the house, that can be done tomorrow.”

I’m still unsure of how I feel about him having access to the house. Torin doesn’t trustanyone, not even his own family, yet he allows Guy full access to his home. My brother is the most astute person I know; he sees right through people. Even if no one else picked up on Guy’s duplicity, Torin would. Something tells me heknowsabout the man beneath “Guy” and is playing his own game.

Maybe I’ll let things remain as is for now. “Reset the codes” is an excuse I can use to see him down the line.

“You aren’t holding me up,” I say. “I’m just wandering around, basking in the craziness of being ahomeownernow.”

“Don’t burn it down.”