Page 115 of To the Chase

“I—” Her lashes brushed her flushed cheeks as she blinked rapidly. “Tore, I thought you told him to send that email. I thought you were mad at me for last night. The way we left things…” She rubbed her forehead. “I’m really confused.”

“Beatrice, no. No, no, no.” I stepped into her house and wrapped my arms around her. “No, beautiful. I’m not mad. There’s no reason for me to be mad. Until you didn’t show up this morning, I would have said I’m the happiest I’ve ever been—the farthest thingfrom mad.”

All the fight left her in an instant, and she sagged into me, her forehead pressing against my chest. I tightened my arms, holding her close, one hand at her nape, the other stroking her spine.

I buried my nose in her hair, breathing in her goodness. Fresh vanilla with a hint of cranberry. Probably from the muffins she always brought with her to Nox.

“I can’t believe I thought you fired me,” she whispered. “I thought…I feel really stupid for believing that email was anything other than a mistake.”

“You’re not stupid. Not even close,” I said gently.

With my knuckle under her chin, I tilted her face up and pressed a firm kiss to her forehead. “Let me see it.”

She slipped her phone from her apron and handed it to me.

Ben’s voice piped up from somewhere down the hall. “I told her to take a chill pill and actually talk to you, butnooo. She had to go full emo.”

Bea rolled her eyes and laughed, but I didn’t miss the way it quivered. “Shut up, Ben.”

“I’m just saying,” he called back. “It’s all right to admit I was right.”

I scrolled through her inbox until I found it.

Sent at 6:14 a.m. The sender address looked legit, but I tapped it to confirm, and it only took a second to realize something was off. My mouth tightened.

“Paul didn’t send this. This is a spoof. The email addresslooksright, but it’s not. I’m going to trace the IP. Someone did this on purpose.”

Bea’s brows pinched together. “Why would anyone…?”

“I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.” I gave her the phone back and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I promise.”

“This is crazy. I don’t get it.”

“I don’t either.” I exhaled, the possibilities sliding around my mind like chess pieces. “I’ve never experienced anything like this, but in my position, there’s always the possibility of gaining unwanted attention. I fear that may be what happened here. Someone tried to go through you to get to me.”

Her jaw jutted. “Fuck them then.”

I kissed her crinkled nose, her cheek, the arch of her brow. “No one will get between us if we talk to one another.”

She puffed up her cheeks and blew out a breath. “Yeah, I screwed up. I don’t know why I assumed the worst—”

“I do. I let my disappointment over not seeing you last night get in the way of being a good boyfriend. You wanted to talk to me, and I wouldn’t listen.” I held her waist with both hands, rubbing slowly back and forth. “I left this door open, and whoever sent this email stepped right in.”

She huffed and tucked her face into my throat. “You were a little bit of a dick last night.”

“I know.” I pressed my cheek to the side of her head. “I had this idea you’d come over after your dinner and tell me all about it. When that didn’t happen, I wasn’t able to roll with it. I’d fully intended to admit I was a tool when you came to Nox this morning.”

“You can admit it now.”

My mouth twitched, and relief lightened my gut. “I was a tool.”

Her giggle lightened it even more. “Yes. And I was a fuckwit for believing you’d get Paul to fire me. You’re obsessed with me.”

“That, I am. And Paul’s obsessed with your muffins. He’d firemebefore sending you an email like that.”

“That’s a very good point.” She pulled in a deep breath, her hands fisting the fabric of my jacket. “Are we okay?”

“We glitched, Beatrice. You’ve now experienced me at my worst—”