Page 26 of The Question of Us (Fisher & Church #2)

We slipped back outside into the late-morning heat and headed for some shade to wait things out. We picked a spot under a trio of beech trees close to one of the stable blocks, which had a good view of the car park and the entrance to the bidding arena.

“I’ll go grab us a coffee and something to eat,” Nick said, kissing the top of my head.

“Stop that,” I hissed as heat raced into my cheeks. “You’re making a scene.”

Nick huffed and kissed me again. “Too fucking bad. We’re supposed to be married and celebrating our anniversary. Deal with it.”

I grumbled some protest that sounded weak even to my own ears while Nick just smiled and walked away, the fucker. Five minutes later, my phone buzzed in my hand.

Gazza. Heading for the arena now. I can’t just stand around on my own. I look out of place. Any sign?

I replied. Not yet. Did you see Nick?

Yes. He was waiting at the coffee truck with a yummy bag of pastries.

I rolled my eyes because of course he was. I was just about to ask what kind of pastries when another text came through.

I can feel your eye roll. A six point five on the Richter scale. Stop policing him.

I snorted and texted back. Shut up and mind your own business. Then added an eye-roll emoji just for good measure.

Gazza replied with a smiley face. I’m going to grab a seat inside at the back before it gets busy. That way I can keep an eye on them when they arrive. If Lee goes anywhere on his own, I’ll follow. Text me when you see them coming.

Me. Will do. You’ll need to tell us if and when it’s safe to come inside.

Gazza. Roger. Ten four. Over and out.

Me. Idiot.

I looked up from my phone to see Gazza walking through the car park toward the auction house. With his coffee in one hand, he pocketed his phone and then glanced my way. I frowned, but his expression remained blank with not a trace of acknowledgement.

If I hadn’t known who he was, I would never have recognised him.

Dressed in skinny black jeans that showed off his arse to perfection—which may as well have had come fuck me written on it in neon colours—a sleek black linen shirt with a multicoloured silk scarf wrapped around his neck to hide his tattoo, and a pair of black Converse, Gazza looked like he belonged in any of the ridiculously expensive cars that filled the reserved section of the parking lot.

He looked like a model, or maybe some famous influencer that you think you should recognise but can’t place—handsome, curious, comfortable in his own skin, and completely at home with not a trace of nerves in sight.

It was a masterful act, good enough to make me wonder if Gazza had missed his calling.

He’d have killed it on the stage or even as a clandestine operative.

Sure, people glanced his way, struck by his good looks, but they quickly moved on.

His manner didn’t invite conversation. He looked.

.. untouchable. Like he belonged in a different world.

To be honest, I was kind of in awe. I also relaxed.

He clearly had this. All we needed was Lee.

Almost as soon as Gazza disappeared into the auction arena, a dark blue Range Rover pulled into the car park with two men on board.

As they turned down the first aisle and crept toward where I stood, leaning against a tree, my attention was caught by the man in the passenger seat.

The closer they got, the more convinced I was that the man was Marty Klein.

I glanced at the picture of him on my phone and my heart sped up.

Bingo. I started to text Gazza, but when the car turned right instead of left and pulled into one of the reserved parking spaces not ten metres from where I stood, I turned my back and pretended to be talking on the phone.

The Range Rover doors opened and closed, but I waited until I heard the sound of footsteps on gravel before I risked turning back around. One look and my excitement plummeted. The second man wasn’t Lee. Not even close. The only thing they shared in common was that they were both blonds.

The man with Marty was a beast of a man who looked like he ate a box of steroids every day for breakfast. Although his eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, his head moved from side to side, scanning the car park as he escorted Marty to the auction house.

I figured this had to be Freddie, Marty’s PA.

The middleman the brothers had talked about.

The man I’d seen ferry Lee off the boat that night.

This guy certainly matched the size of that man.

I shot Gazza a text warning him Marty was about to enter the building but that Lee wasn’t with him.

Gazza’s reply was swift. I see them. What do you want me to do? The sale is starting any minute.

I thought about that. If big blondie was the same guy who’d been working with the brothers, then there was a good chance he’d seen photos of me.

For sure, he’d have seen Nick, and likely in person.

There was no way of knowing how well our disguises would hold up, and with no sign of Lee, there was little point taking undue risks.

I texted back. Hang tight and just keep an eye on them. I’ll get back to you.

He sent a thumbs-up emoji and I pocketed my phone.

“What’s a cute guy like you doing in a place like this?”

I startled at the sound of Nick’s sultry voice alongside my ear and elbowed him in the belly.

He let out an oof . “What was that for?”

I shot him a stony glare. “Jerk. You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry.” He leaned against the railing of the pen looking decidedly not sorry. “But I come bearing gifts. That has to count for something.” He handed me a coffee and shook the pastry bag.

“Marty’s arrived.” I tipped my head toward the Range Rover. “And Gazza’s inside the arena.”

Nick’s entire body tensed as he studied the vehicle. “And Lee?”

“Wasn’t with them.”

Nick’s face fell. “Damn.” He took a sip of his coffee, grabbed a cherry Danish from the bag and talked around a mouthful. “So much for our plan. So, who was with our man?”

I considered the smudge of red-stained sugar on Nick’s lips as I answered quietly. “I think the driver has to be Freddie. Marty’s PA. He fits the description and photos we have from Marty’s business social media.”

Nick’s eyes narrowed. “Our so-called middleman? The one we think is responsible for Davis’s accident ?” He made air quotes.

“The one and only.” I paused, watching Nick’s reaction as he digested the information, but his tight expression gave little away.

“It’s not going to be easy ducking his attention.

” I slid a hand around Nick’s neck and drew him closer.

“You need a minder.” I wiped the corner of his mouth with my thumb and held it out for him to see.

“Mmm.” He grabbed my wrist and sucked my thumb clean, igniting a pool of liquid heat in my balls. “I’ll make sure you get a job application.” His grey eyes drilled into mine and I wasn’t sure where the joke ended and truth began.

“You’re incorrigible,” I grumbled, snapping my hand free of his grasp.

He beamed as if all that was flattery. “I know.” He leaned back against the railing. “So, what’s the new plan?”

From inside the building, the voice of the auctioneer called the bidders to attention. They were about to start.

“I’m going inside.” Nick’s gaze locked with mine, silencing my protest. “I need to see these arseholes in a situation where I won’t be tempted to rock up and punch both of them in the face. Or worse. A lot fucking worse.”

I quelled the urge to remind him just how big Freddie was and exactly who might end up doing the punching. I was sensible like that.

Nick raised his hands. “I’ll behave, I promise.

I won’t jeopardise our plans. Besides, the seating faces away from the foyer and stairwell, so if Gazza says it’s clear, I can head up to the top row and not risk them seeing me.

” He pointed to his hair. “And I’m less recognisable than you are.

What else are we going to do? Lee isn’t even here. ”

I wanted to say no to his plan, but when I looked him up and down, I felt my head nodding instead.

With his cap pulled down over his newly shorn hair, most of his face was hidden.

You needed to look really hard to recognise the old Nick beneath this new version.

Besides, he was right. This way, Nick’s first encounter with Marty and Freddie would be contained.

“Fine,” I relented. “But don’t draw attention to yourself. ”

Nick grinned. “Gee, I would never have thought of that.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes... again. But when he turned to leave, I grabbed his hand. “Be careful, please,” I said, horrified at the rasp in my voice. “Nothing stupid. No risks. This is just information gathering, okay?”

Nick’s eyes softened and he cupped my face. “I promise I’ll be careful.”

“Good.” The lump in my throat eased a little. “I’ll text Gazza to watch out for you.”

Nick nodded and then was gone, strolling comfortably toward the sale building like he deserved to be there as much as any other buyer.

I watched his every step until he disappeared from view and puzzled how I’d lost my heart so quickly to a man who had the capacity to make me wanna kill him and fuck him in equal measure, and often at the same time.