“Hey,” he said. “I suppose you’ve heard the news?”
“That we’re an item?”
“TNZ posted it on their site and every social media outlet they have a presence on. The fans took it from there. We’re viral.”
“And you? Did you share the information about us on your page?”
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. “No, I figured we can take a picture together and announce things our own way.”
She laughed. “I like the sound of that.” She could use some control in her life, and this would be one way of taking some back. Even if it was for the job.
A knock sounded at her door, and she walked across the apartment to answer it, wondering who would show up without calling first. She looked through the peephole, but no one was there. Frowning, she opened the door and caught sight of a box left right outside.
Still standing in her doorway, she knelt down and picked up the long box.
“So, I was thinking we could get dinner and talk about who could have framed me some more,” Damon was saying as she lifted the top off the white box.
“I—” A familiar spray of yellow roses, her favorite, was in the box.
John used to send her yellow roses. Before she could process that thought, a garden snake popped out of the long green stems. The unexpected sight caused her to scream and drop the box along with the phone and back away from the gift that had been clearly meant to catch her off guard.
“Evie!” she heard Damon yell from her phone.
Shit. She picked it up and spoke to him. “I’m here.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.” She was a private investigator he’d hired. No reason for him to think she couldn’t handle herself.
“Bullshit.”
“I saw a snake,” she said, figuring that would end that.
“Inside your house?” He sounded skeptical.
She bit the inside of her cheek.
“What’s your address? I’m coming over.”
“What? No.” She didn’t need hand-holding.
She’d just been shocked, which had no doubt been John’s intent, but she’d moved since he’d bothered her last. And now he’d found her and the harassment was starting all over again. He resented the fact that he’d lost his job thanks to her, lost his license as an attorney, conveniently ignoring the fact that he’d physically hurt her. But he’d pulled enough strings to get himself off with some slick deal. Somehow.
“I can call Bri and get your address,” he reminded her.
“You’re overreacting.” She glanced at the gift, and since the snake was still wrapped in the flower stems, she had no intention of picking it up. She quickly put the top of the box back on.
Inside she was still shaking, and she didn’t doubt he heard the fear and panic in her voice. Her hand went to her arm, the reminder that John’s pranks could escalate quickly.
“I’m waiting.”
“Fine,” she muttered and gave him her address. “It’s a garden apartment. I’m on the fourth floor. Four oh two. The top floor.”
“See you soon.” He disconnected the call and she slammed her door shut, not wanting to give the snake the opportunity to come inside.
Either snake. Her ex or the slithering reptile outside.
* * *
Evie’s scream still reverberated in Damon’s ear, sending chills through his body. He didn’t give a shit if he had concussion symptoms, he needed to get to her. He had a mother and a sister. He knew when a woman screamed in shock over a bee, a bug, or a snake. He also knew terror when he heard it. So he didn’t think he was overreacting heading over to Evie’s apartment. He needed to find out what had happened to cause her to shriek loudly and come back to the phone, her voice still trembling.
He pulled into a visitors’ parking spot and jumped out, locking his McLaren and shoving his keys into his pocket. She lived in a pretty yellow garden apartment complex with catwalks that overlooked the parking lot. Instead of waiting for the elevator, he ran up the stairs, fuck the pain in his head, to the fourth floor and followed the signs to the left.
Her apartment was close to the elevator, and a box sat outside the door. He walked over and kicked off the top, finding yellow roses and the snake Evie had seen. At a glance, it was a harmless garden snake, but the roses were carefully packed up and delivered. The reptile hadn’t gotten in there by mistake.
Ignoring the box for now, he knocked on the door. “Evie? It’s me. Open up.”
He heard the deadbolt unlock, and she pulled the door open, peeking through the crack before swinging it wide. She faced him, her skin pale. She’d changed from this morning’s outfit into a pair of tight leggings and a hooded sweatshirt, looking more like the Evie he knew.
A pang hit him at the vulnerable way she hugged her arms around her chest.
“Come in. Watch out for the snake.”
He frowned. “Get me a garbage bag,” he said.
He gathered everything into the bag, let the snake go at the far side of the building into bushes that led toward a copse of trees, and he threw out the flowers in the trash chute. Then he sauntered back upstairs to find out what the hell was going on.
He found Evie curled up on the sofa, a blanket over her legs. Eyeing her warily, he walked over and sat down at the far end of the couch. “Lock the door,” she said, tilting her head.
He did as she asked, making sure to flip the deadbolt, wondering if she was always this careful or if that package had triggered her.
“Want to tell me what happened?” As opposed to asking if she was okay.
Evie needed to be seen as tough, and he had no desire to prick that exterior and watch her bleed. He had too much respect for her to do that.
She swallowed hard, her slender throat moving up and down as she watched him, clearly wondering how much she wanted to reveal. “I had a bad relationship,” she said, obviously reluctant to discuss her past.
“How bad?” He’d pull the information out of her piece by piece if he had to.
She worked her jaw before speaking. “Bad enough that I had to involve the police, get a restraining order, which has expired, and eventually move from my old apartment to here.”
He curled his hands into fists at his sides, angry that someone would threaten any woman, but especially someone who was his to look out for. He might have fought this fake relationship in the beginning, and they might only be twenty-four hours in, but from the moment she’d sealed her lips over his, he’d felt protective of her.
He glanced her way, watching as she plucked at a thread on the blanket, her dark hair falling around her face.
“How long has this been going on?” he asked.
She raised her gaze. “It stopped after I moved six months ago.”
“And what makes you so sure the gift was from him?” he asked, using the word with deliberate sarcasm.
“He used to buy me yellow roses. And he knows I hate snakes.” She shuddered at the mention of the reptiles.
“Shit,” he said, running a hand through his hair as he realized his mistake.
“What’s wrong?” She shifted in her seat and stretched out her long legs.
He groaned. “I shouldn’t have rushed to toss the evidence.” But she’d been upset and freaked out, and he’d wanted her to feel safe. Besides, he hadn’t had a heads-up that he might need to save or search the box. “Was there a note?”