Page 189 of The Right Wrong Promise

“I’m spending a lot of time in Portland these days, but… my shoe stuff will take me back to New York sooner or later.” She taps a finger against her chin, her smile widening. “Especially if I have friends to visit.”

“You do, woman. We want you there.”

“I’d love that.” Her blue eyes soften. “Before today, I thought you’d never ask. I wasn’t sure if you wanted this thing to…” She trails off.

“Until now, I wasn’t sure either,” I admit. “But hell, watching you try to skip out made me realize I’m not ready for that. Not tomorrow and not next week. We can go our separate ways, but we don’thaveto.”

Her eyes ignite, putting the blue lake to shame.

“Then it’s settled. No big goodbyes. Just see ya later.” She nods.

Sunlight crisscrosses her face, and she squints in the light.

“Dammit, yeah.” The kids are distracted, so I lean forward and kiss her lightly on the lips.

The softest moan spills into my mouth and her fingers dig into my thigh.

Just a peck, innocent and quick, wrapped in a dark and dirty promise.

No lie, I’m addicted.

I’m going to need her back not long after we put Maine in the rearview mirror.

It’s a struggle to hold in how addicted I am.

“Ew, you guys.” Dan turns around to see us just in time, his nose wrinkled.

“Ew yourself, little man. I’ll make you regret your words someday when you’re old enough to do more than pull a girl’s pigtails.”

To be fair, I suppose I never grew out of that myself.

I chuckle, though, leaning back.

Margot’s cheeks flush as she giggles and mutters something about how embarrassed he’ll be.

The rest of our outing passes in a happy haze. The heat in my gut grows heavier by the minute, and it has nothing to do with the sun.

When we get back to the dock for a bathroom break and lunch, the warmth fades.

There’s a slip of paper on my windshield.

A ticket? All the way out here with no one else in the parking lot?

Didn’t see a meter or sign of any sort asking for a fee, though.

My instinct tells me that isn’t it, and I don’t like the other possibilities.

Margot and the kids wait in the boat for me to bring back lunch from the cooler, so I grab the note and look it over.

Send the kids and the woman away. You’ll face your destiny alone if you’re still a man, and not just a grubby little thief.

Now we know.

My heart picks up, thundering with rage.

Our asshole stalker was never after Margot. He’s got a beef withme.

Andthief? What the hell?