Page 51 of Where We Bloom (The Blackwells of Montana #3)

Chapter Thirty

CONNOR

I ’m in the middle of a meeting regarding the property in the Maldives when my phone starts to buzz with an incoming video call from Billie.

“Excuse me,” I say, standing to leave the room.

“Connor—” Fiona starts, but I shake my head, shutting down whatever she was going to say.

“I’ll be right back.”

Once I’m in my office with the door closed, I take the call. “Hello, angel.”

“Don’t you angel me,” she says, her beautiful eyes hot. “Why is there a tracking device on my car?”

“Because there’s one on all of the vehicles,” I reply, sitting on the edge of my desk. “What’s happened?”

“I went for a drive, in my car, by myself , and Simon freaking found me, pulled me over, and ripped me a new one.”

“Good.”

Her jaw drops. “Excuse me? ”

“I asked you not to go anywhere without Simon. Wait, it’s four in the morning there. Why are you taking a drive in the middle of the night?”

“Because I’m a grown-ass woman who can decide for herself what time of day she wants to go for a motherfucking drive!”

I’ve never seen her this angry.

“If you weren’t going to let me drive this car, why did you buy it for me?”

I pull my glasses off and rub my eyes. “Of course, you can drive it. It’s yours. Just please take Simon with you.”

“This is fucking insane,” she mutters.

“Bumble, tell me why you’re taking drives in the middle of the night.”

“Because I can’t fucking sleep,” she retorts, her face flushed and eyes bright with frustration. “I can’t settle. I miss you.”

Her eyes fill with tears, and it’s almost my undoing.

“Angel, I’m coming home tomorrow.”

I had planned to stay the week, but fuck that. My girl bleedin’ needs me.

“It’s not your fault,” she says, furiously wiping away the tears on her cheeks. “It’s just stupid insomnia, and it’s ridiculous that I need my person with me to sleep. That’s an addiction or something. Maybe I need an intervention.”

My lips twitch as I watch her. “I miss you too, mo chroi . So much it hurts. And I’m not sleeping well, either.”

“We have a serious problem. ”

“Aye. We’re in love, and being apart is brutal.” That makes her lower lip quiver again, and I swear under my breath. “Hang in there for just one more day. Can you do that for me?”

“I’m sorry.” She blows out a breath and wipes more tears away. “This is so silly. If I could just sleep, I’d be fine.”

“I know.” God, I wish I could touch her. She needs to be held and kissed. I’m not there to give it to her, and it’s driving me out of my bleedin’ mind.

“Simon might quit,” she says. “I was kind of mean to him. But Emily thinks he’s hot, so maybe we should try to keep him.”

“Emily’s attracted to Simon?”

“Yeah. And I asked him if he liked her, and he paused before he said no, which means yes.”

I blink at her. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

“It’s romantic,” she insists. “But I really pissed him off tonight. Or this morning. Whatever it is.”

“Don’t worry about Simon, except please , don’t go anywhere without him until I get home. Now, I want you to go upstairs, get into our bed, and relax. Breathe. Take my clothes with you so you can smell me.”

She sniffs. “Okay. I’m sorry I’m such a brat.”

“No, you aren’t.” I laugh when she rolls her lips together and grins. “Get some rest, angel. I’ll see you soon.”

“Good night. Love you.”

“I love you as well. ”

She hangs up, and I drag my hand down my face before shooting Simon a quick text.

Just spoke with Billie. Thank you for getting her home safely. She will not ditch you again.

When I return to the conference room, I’m met with some scowls and silence.

“Is there a problem?”

Before anyone can reply, the door bursts open, and Miller strides in, his face a mask of rage.

“You need to see this,” he says, shoving his laptop in front of me. When I scan his email, my blood runs cold.

“Where did this come from?”

“We’re tracking it now,” he says as my eyes scan.

They are photos, dozens of them, of my angel. Some from New York when we were there, others from Bitterroot Valley shortly after we got home.

But my heart stops when I get to one of her at Birdie’s recital last night .

There’s another of her working in her bookshop, smiling at a customer, also time-stamped yesterday.

“Jesus,” I mutter, and then I get to the message.

Terminate the building of the resort in Sweden. It would be a shame for this beautiful woman to get hurt.

My eyes jump up to every person on my board, and I growl.

“We’re pulling out of Sweden. ”

Fiona gasps, and there are rumblings around the table.

“This isn’t up for discussion.”

“Connor, as your attorney, I’m telling you, this wouldn’t be wise.”

“I have to agree with Fiona,” Ronan says. “We’ll lose half a billion euros at this point.”

“I’m not asking! These motherfecking arseholes are threatening my future wife. Not just me. My future wife! I’m going home.”

“Sir, we have so many important matters to go through with you, especially now that you’re hardly here in the office.”

I glare at Sean. “There’s a stalker following Billie, taking photos of her, watching her so they can threaten us.

So they can threaten her . I’m not there, not even on the same goddamn continent, but that arsehole is.

If you think I’m staying here for one more minute, you’re insane.

Pull out of the Sweden project now. I don’t care how much money we lose. We can afford it.”

“We don’t typically give in to threats like this,” Fiona says softly and holds her hand up before I can bite her head off.

“But I agree in this case. It’s been a difficult project from the onset, and if it’s going to lead to threats and danger, it’s not worth it.

I’ll figure it out. Go home to your girl. ”

I blink at her, surprised, but she offers me a small smile.

“Go,” Ronan agrees. “We’ll handle it. If need be, I’ll go to Sweden myself. ”

“We’ll go as a board,” Sean says, and the others nod in agreement.

“Thank you,” I murmur and then turn to Miller. “Call and get the plane ready. We’re leaving from here.”

“Yes, sir.” Miller nods, leading me out of the room.

“Is this the first time they’ve threatened her?” I ask as we stride to the elevator.

“Yes,” he says firmly. “There have been several threats against you, but this is the first targeting her.”

“Get Simon on the line and tell him to stick to her like goddamn glue.”

“On it.”

“Then find out who this photographer is, call Bitterroot Valley PD, and have them dealt with. I also want this goddamn extremist group dealt with. Call in our contacts with the FBI and CIA and have it ripped apart.”

“Already started on that,” he replies. “I don’t just guard your ass, you know.”

I nod, and when the elevator doors slide open, we rush to the SUV.

I need to get home.