Page 46 of Worth the Try (Atlanta Granite #1)

Ansel

One week later

I lug the last bag into the spare bedroom and heave a breath, looking at Elodie. “Your shoes are oppressive.” We unloaded the storage unit the other day, and today marked the moving of all her things over from the guesthouse.

She laughs. “I thought you were a big bad rugby player. You can’t handle a little old bag of shoes?”

I give her a flat stare. “That bag could be used for weight training for the forwards, Elodie. That’s how insane it is.”

She shrugs, unapologetic. “Well, you seemed to be perfectly fine with my shoes when I wore the strappy ones while you fucked me from behind the other night.”

My eyes nearly bug out of my head. “Elodie Cole. Did you just say a cuss word when I wasn’t buried deep inside you?”

Her eyes twinkle as a blush stains her cheeks. “Maybe.”

I step around the bag, my arousal evident through the gray sweatpants I’m wearing. “Get over here.”

She giggles and backs away. “We still have more bags to bring up from the truck!”

I shake my head and keep stalking toward her. “They can wait.”

She tries again. “Rosie is downstairs!”

“I can be quick,” I say, making grabby hands as I close in.

“The bed’s not made!” She gasps as I snag her around the waist and pull her to me, her back to my front.

“It’s the guest bedroom, and it’s a good thing it’s not made.” I lick her neck and slip my thumbs into the waistband of her yoga shorts. “Tell me something,” I say against her ear as I push the fabric down.

“Yes?” It comes out hoarse.

“Do you ever wear panties with these?”

“N-no,” she stutters, her breath catching as I slide my finger along her slit. She’s soaked.

I push my sweatpants and boxers down. “Good.” I bend her over the bed and glide my hand down her back before notching myself at her entrance. “Don’t ever start.”

She wiggles her hips, and the sight of her is almost enough to make me come right now. I slide into her on a grunt. The feel of her, velvety hot and tight, is the sweetest sensation. Home.

She gasps, then moans as I thrust again. “Fast and hard, Ansel.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I grip her hips and slam into her, watching my cock disappear into her over and over. I will give this woman whatever she wants. Today, tomorrow, a decade from now.

I get a call from my lawyer later that night, as Elodie and I watch Rosie work on yet another puzzle. Frowning at the phone, I pull it up to my ear. “Jennifer?”

“Is Elodie there?” Jennifer asks. “Put me on speakerphone.”

“Hang on,” I instruct, and Elodie and I walk to the kitchen so that Rosie doesn’t hear. “Okay, go.”

“Elodie, are you familiar with a woman named Allyson Fields?”

I scrunch my brow and mouth, “ Jake’s fiancée?”

She nods and answers, “Yes, I am.”

“Mm. And do you, by chance, know what she does for a living?”

“I do,” she says, drawing out the words.

“I don’t,” I state.

“Interesting,” Jennifer answers. “Because Allyson is a private investigator. One of the South’s finest, in fact. Her company, and her reputation in particular, is top-notch. My clients can’t afford her.”

“She’s my friend,” Elodie says.

Jennifer continues, “Imagine my surprise when I got a call from her, followed by a zip file filled with all sorts of information on Rosalie’s birth mother.”

My eyebrows are practically on the ceiling with how high I’m raising them. “What? How? What’s it say?”

Meanwhile, Elodie’s grinning like a fool. Her smile makes me start to shake. Could something good actually be happening with this?

“Turns out that Lauren Williamson is actually Laura Williams, who’s wanted in Nevada for embezzlement.

And in California for the same thing. And South Carolina.

There’s also a, and this is a legal term, shit-ton of speeding tickets attributed to her various monikers.

” Jennifer pauses. “It’s safe to say that the custody hearing is a no-go, Ansel. You can stop worrying.”

“Holy shit,” I breathe in disbelief. Goosebumps fly across my body. This can’t be real. But it is. I think. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Jennifer’s smile comes through the speaker. “This is my favorite part of the job.”

I laugh. “Until I pay that bill.”

She chuckles. “That’s nice, too. Congratulations, Ansel. And Elodie, tell your friend thank you.”

“I will.”

Jennifer signs off, and I pick Elodie up and whirl her around the kitchen, my grip on her tight. She laughs, her relief just as palpable as mine. I let her down only to pull her back for a kiss, smiling the entire time.

“I knew Allyson was impressive. I had no clue she was a next-level spy master,” I mutter. “But—how? What made her look into it?”

“Oh.” Elodie waves a hand nonchalantly. “It was after Lauren texted me the night we got smashed.”

“She what ?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Elodie presses a hand to my chest. “She’s getting what she deserves.” Then she winks. “But I will never forget the look on Allyson’s face when she opened that laptop. Just remind me never to get on Allyson’s bad side, okay?”

I have to sit down. My knees are literally weak. “It’s over. It’s really over.”

“Well, that part’s over.” Elodie holds up her phone for me to see the text that’s just come in for both of us.

KARI

Y’all know Allyson tipped me off and as your PR rep I must demand a PRESS CONFERENCE.

I shake my head. “Tell that woman to give me at least a full day of relief first.”

With a knowing grin, Elodie sends the message, and Kari’s response comes through moments later.

KARI

I knew you’d say that. You have a press conference to introduce the new coach next week anyway.

Immediately below the text is a link to someone’s rugby coaching bio. “Let me see that.” Elodie hands over her phone, and I click the link, reading the bio. “Huh. Seems like we’ve got ourselves a good one.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Colin Thicke is one of the winningest rugby coaches in the collegiate circuit. I remember him from my own college days.” If memory serves, he’s no-nonsense, gets shit done, and has a squeaky-clean reputation.

Whether and how that translates to professional rugby, I don’t yet know.

What I do know? That I can’t wait to hand the reins back over to an actual coach.

Another text from Kari swings in filled only with question marks, and I snort. “She’s impatient.”

“You’ve met her, right?” Elodie jokes.

I pluck my own phone off the kitchen counter and type a response.

Chill out, Kari. Of course I’ll do your damn press conference. Any chance you can get me poster-size glossies of Lauren’s arrest photos?

KARI

Don’t threaten me with a good time.