JUST A FEW days later, Beau awoke to sunlight breaking over Cora’s still-sleeping form. In the time they’d been together he found himself at her place or she with him most nights. And still he wanted her. Burned for her.
She was goofy as hell and there was nothing like it in his world. It filled him up in ways he hadn’t expected.
He eased from bed, wanting her to get all the rest she could. Especially as he’d kept her awake the night before. Twice.
In her kitchen, he’d noticed she now kept things he liked and used, like the coffee he scooped into the filter to get a fresh pot started. He didn’t have any plans until that evening when Cora got off work and would go with him to look at some houses.
Since she’d have to be up within the hour to get her day started he figured he’d send her off with coffee and a full belly. Waffles seemed to be a favorite and they were easy to whip up and add fruit to to change things up.
Before he quite got over the flutter in his chest at the way his life had gone from lonely to this connection he shared with Cora, he remembered it was her recycle day and hustled back to the bedroom, where she’d just finished pulling on jeans, sleep still on her features.
“Recycling,” she said, her voice momentarily muffled by the sweater yanked over her head.
“On it.” He shoved his feet into shoes, laughing as she danced out of his reach on her way out the door.
Clutching the little bins for glass and paper, they ran through the rain out to the main collection containers on the street just as the big blue truck turned the corner onto her block.
“Score,” she said, grinning and rain-soaked.
He grabbed her hand and they headed back to her place, pausing on the porch to toe off their shoes.
“Thank god I turned the fireplace on before I started to make coffee,” he told her.
Cora tossed a towel at him. “Get dried off before all the women in the area start banging on my door demanding more hot, wet model in their day. And who can blame them?”
“Not that I’m complaining. But I prefer when one person in particular demands hot, wet model in her day.” He peeled off his shirt. The pants were in pretty good shape though so he left those on.
“Lucky me,” she murmured, yanking her shirt off and standing in her living room just out of his reach. Bare skin over perfectly sized tits. The swoops and swirls of all her ink added an edge.
“You have time to get luckier before you have to go to work. I mean, I might have to rush a little, but I do get the job done.”
Her laughter warmed his belly, and right as he reached to grab the waistband of her pants to pull her nearer there was a sharp knock at her front door.
“Ignore it,” he said.
Shrugging, she wrapped her arms around him, sliding warm skin against his warm skin. She climbed up his body like a monkey, wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom. “Make me late for work.”
Half an hour later they emerged a little mussed up, but smiling as they headed into the kitchen for some breakfast.
On the way out though, as she opened her front door, an envelope that must have been tucked into the space between the jamb and door flitted to the porch.
Cora picked it up and made a sound of surprise so Beau looked over her shoulder and recognized his name on the front. “Weird. It’s for you.”
No one knew he was there but Ian and Jeremy. He had some superfans who tended toward bad filters rather than instability, but the idea that anyone would come at him through Cora rendered him a little nauseated.
She handed it over her shoulder to him. “This is weird,” he said. “Stay back when I open it just in case.” Confusion washed over her features and he gentled his tone. “We don’t know what it could be. I just want you to be safe.”
“If you think this will blow up why the hell are you thinking of opening it? Why not call the authorities?” Cora demanded.
Damn it, why was she so fucking cute all the time? Even when she was disobeying him and demanding answers, she was cute. He kissed her, picked her up, set her back inside the house and closed the door at his back.
“Oh no, you did not just pick me up and put me in my house like a puppy!” she yelled through the door.
He opened the envelope and pulled out the paper inside. No powder, nothing sticky or strange on the contents.
As he finished reading it the second time, Cora came around the side of her house and up to the porch, where she pinched his side. “Don’t do that again.”
“Listen, let me get this out so we can be clear,” he said. “I will do it again. Or anything else that I think is necessary to protect you.”
Her outrage was also cute but he decided not to share that thought. He liked his balls unkicked.
“I’m not a kid. Or a thing. You can’t just move me around how you want,” she said. “Well. Except for sex. But that’s not what we’re discussing right now.”
He turned her way and paused, giving her a slow up and down.
She had on high-waisted red trousers and a white blouse. She’d done something to her hair, a twisted bun thing that gave her a vintage air. Of course it was the killer heels she wore that made the outfit. That and the bright red lipstick. She looked like a noir villain. The annoyance on her features, god help him, made the entirety of her more than he could resist.
“You look fantastic,” Beau told her, bending to kiss her. “Beautiful Cora, I know you’re not a thing. I know you’re independent and intelligent and capable of making your own choices. But I’m not going to take chances with your safety. If that annoys you, I am sorry. But not sorry enough to stop putting you first.”
Her sigh had a snarl in it, but she stopped looking like she was going to punch his junk any second. “Tell me what the hell is happening. What is it that’s gotten you so freaked out?”
“I need to make some calls and handle a few things. Let me take you to the gallery. I’ll be back later to pick you up and I’ll tell you more then.”
“Are you in danger? Is someone threatening you?”
That she’d be concerned about him when the damned note showed up on her doorstep was another disarming thing about her. It also made him worry a little more.
“No one is threatening my safety,” he said carefully. Beau wanted her safe at work so he could get in touch with Jeremy about the note. “This is related to Road to Glory.” He tucked the envelope into a pocket. “I promise,” he repeated, “to explain more when I see you tonight. Everything is fine. There’s no danger. I’d never lie to you about that.”
She allowed him to check to be sure she’d locked the door, and then led her through the center courtyard and out to the street where he’d parked.
If there’d been more than three minutes to the gallery he might have given her some background. Still, when he pulled up out front he paused, a hand on her forearm. “I need to move on this information immediately. Please understand.”
Cora nodded, leaning over to kiss him quickly. “Be careful. I’ll see you later when I will expect a full explanation. And smooching.”
He was still smiling when he pulled away from the curb and headed back to the condo so he could get in touch with his investigators to tell them what had happened.
* * *
CORA BURIED HERSELF in work as much as she could to avoid obsessing about whatever it was that had Beau going so pale and then very stoic when he’d read whatever it was in that envelope. Expression closed off and more severe than she’d seen him. If he hadn’t been all bossy to protect her she might have been more unsure as to what was going on between them. But he’d looked at her, asking for her patience and that’s what she’d give.
She sold a few paintings and a sculpture and considered it a day well spent when she finally locked up. She was ready to go home, change into leggings and thick socks and look at her hot former model boyfriend as he told her whatever was going on.
He’d cook for her. At the very least make her a cup of tea and pull out something sweet to go with it. He liked to take care of her that way. It was simple and lovely and quieted the noise inside her chest to be treated like that.
Even all his picking her up and moving her around earlier that day had been annoying but borne of a real desire to be sure she was all right. She’d never experienced the like.
A more than brisk wind kicked up and she was glad she remembered her gloves. But before she even got three steps from the gallery doors, he beeped the horn of his car as he pulled into the loading spot in front of the gallery.
“Hi,” she said when she got in and leaned over for a kiss.
“Hi yourself, beautiful.”
He took her hand and didn’t let go until he found a parking place.
“Your porch looks naked without all the spiders,” he said as they approached her place. “I’m bummed I missed Halloween while I was in Los Angeles.”
“Me too. It was pretty epic. Everyone came over here and hung out, taking turns handing out candy and scaring the trick-or-treaters.”
Her only excuse was that she was paying so much attention to Beau that she hadn’t seen The Hugger fast walking over to them until it was too late to avert their collision course.
Damn it.
“Cora! It’s been too long since I’ve run into you.” The Hugger moved in but she stepped around to Beau’s other side and he kept between them to help her evade.
“Hi, Dave. It’s nice to see you. We were just on our way home so...” Cora smiled, tugging on Beau to keep them moving.
“Is this your boyfriend?” The Hugger looked up and up some more into Beau’s face. “I’m Dave!” He stepped in for a hug but Beau just held a hand out to hold him off.
“No hug, please. I’m not a hugger.”
Beau managed to make it sound charming and apologetic instead of insulting. And Cora liked him more for it. Dave wasn’t malicious; he just had weird boundary issues and an attachment to attempting to live every day like it was 1977.
Dave put his hands up and smiled. “No problemo. Lani and I are firing up the hot tub and cracking open some wine. You two should come over. Get to know you better since you’re dating Cora. I even have a spare suit for you if you like.”
Cora withheld—barely—a shudder at the idea.
“Thanks for the invitation and say hello to Lani for me. Beau and I have plans though. You have a good night and enjoy the hot tub.” Cora smiled and tugged on Beau to get him moving again.
“Nice to meet you, mate,” Beau said as they walked away.
“You too!” Dave called out and kept on his merry way.
Once inside the house, she made sure everything was locked up. “Just in case they want to come back for another crack at you. When Lani sees you, well, she’s going to want to take a bite. Not that I blame her or anything. But if she were to try I can’t say I’d take it well.”
Beau cocked his head, smirking. “Well now. I’ve never seen this side of you. Makes my dick hard.”
Cora snorted a laugh.
“Go get changed out of your work clothes and I’ll start dinner. Then we’ll talk.” He bent to kiss her.
After she scrubbed off her makeup, she pulled her hair into a ponytail and dressed in those long-awaited leggings, a long, soft sweater and thick socks before heading back out to the kitchen.
She’d texted Maybe and Rachel before she’d left the gallery, just saying she and Beau had a thing they needed to work out that night and she’d talk to them tomorrow. Hopefully that would be enough to keep Maybe out of her business until the following day, when they had a lunch date.
He was pouring her a rather large glass of wine when she approached the counter. “Um. This doesn’t bode well. You think I need that much booze to handle whatever you’re going to say?”
“Before you walked into Gregori’s kitchen that night I really had no idea how sexy I’d find it to be spoken to so plainly.”
“Stop being so hot and charming. Oh! What’s that?” Wariness forgotten for a moment, she leaned in to see what he was making for dinner until he started to unload the sacks he’d brought in with them.
“I’ve been working on pasta today so we’re having ricotta cavatelli with eggplant and sausage,” he told her as he rolled up his sleeves and pulled his hair up and back into a bun.
“Whoa,” she whispered. He was just so damned beautiful with all those delightful lines and shadows on his face. His forearms exposed, along with the ink and the muscles as he washed his hands gave her a little thrill. She knew his strength. Knew the way his muscles felt as they flexed and bunched.
And he was bringing her handmade carbs. “You’re a unicorn, Beau,” she told him.
“I am?” He appeared amused as he cleaned off her countertops even though he had already done the same that morning. Another hot as fuck thing about him was that he seemed totally content to clean her kitchen with a depth and zeal she never even wanted to approach. But she was happy to watch him at it.
“You’re gorgeous and sexy and you’re making me pasta, which is like my all-time favorite thing to eat. You’re smart and I love your sense of humor.” Cora tried for a nonchalant shrug but really it was more embarrassed. “You’re a lot of really good things rolled up into one person. I like you.”
He glanced up, surprised pleasure on his face. “I like you too. I think you’re the gorgeous and sexy one who appreciates my food and lets me take over her kitchen even though I’m a little compulsive about cleaning it.”
“Feel free to compulsively clean my bathroom anytime you like too.”
“I think showering together might qualify. For future reference.”
She clinked her wineglass to his. “We’re on the same page. Now. While you’re cooking you can tell me what’s going on.”
She hopped up on a stool on the other side of the island from where he worked. Normally he didn’t need her to be his assistant and the way he moved around, using all the space, told her he needed to be alone in there.
“How much do you know about Road to Glory and my history there?” he asked her as he began to clean and peel the eggplant.
“I know you grew up inside a religious group your dad ran. Still runs I guess. You’re the oldest son so they were grooming you to take over. Some stuff happened and you needed to escape. They left the country and haven’t been found.”
He barked a laugh before sobering. “You must like me to be so politic about it. Be blunt. I want to tell you, but there’s no need to have to repeat everything you already know.”
“Okay. So your dad decided to hook up with underage girls and you helped the FBI. There was a gunfight situation but your father escaped, along with your mom and some of his other followers. A lot of people got hurt. Some went to jail. A bunch of children were taken without permission from the other parent if I remember right.”
“When I was fifteen my dad decided it was time for me to marry and start the process to first replace my uncle and then take over for my dad. It was time for me to have children and show the rest how healthy and fertile the church could be. Our marriage wasn’t legal by state law, but at that time, the only law that mattered was my father’s law. The law of the Road.”
He kept moving. Putting a pot of water to boil for the pasta.
“Okay, let me back up a little from my wedding. Things started to change when I was about thirteen. We moved from suburban Nashville to the middle of nowhere Arizona. On a compound. All the kids were homeschooled but once we moved we weren’t allowed to go out into the world unaccompanied. No outside media. No internet back then like it is now. There were cell phones but no smartphones. It was a creeping slow sort of snuffing out of all outside influence. Any influence but that of The Anointed, which was what my father had started to call himself by the time I was sixteen.
“Then one day, after I’d been married, I woke up to an envelope that’d been slid under my door and inside was a letter from a mother in the group. Her thirteen-year-old daughter was being courted by my father and she was terrified. The daughter and the mother. She begged for my help.”
Cora’s breath caught in her chest as she had to hold back any appearance of pity or horror. Though she felt both in the pit of her stomach. She knew somehow that he needed to get it all out before she said anything so she didn’t.
She did, however, finish her wine and got herself and Beau another glass, pausing to kiss him before she hopped back up onto her stool.
He leaned over the island to tap his glass to hers.
“I believed her. Cora, I read that note and there was never even a struggle to believe it. It was a moment I was confronted with the truth I’d been hiding from, and I would either stand up and call it out, or go along with it and damn myself.
“So I looked into her claim to get all the facts so I could go to my mother and uncle for help. I asked around, and when I was allowed to go to the private mailbox the church rented about two hours away from the compound, I was approached by an FBI agent who had more information for me. Some of our members who’d left had gone to the authorities about punishments. There were parents trying to gain access to children still living on the compound. Weapons charges. Wire fraud.”
He dumped the sausage along with the eggplant into a pan and the scent of garlic lifted into the air on the steam.
“I have some bread. Would you like me to make a quick batch of garlic bread? Nothing fancy, but it should be really good with dinner,” she said, needing to move or she’d do something stupid like cry or try to comfort him with dumb words.
“Perfect. Yes, that’s good.”
She slid down and began to assemble her ingredients to put together the bread. He kept cooking and began speaking again. “I came back shaken up. I knew there were problems but what I’d learned that day meant everything I’d grown up believing was a lie. My dad was a monster. And by association, through the proof I’d seen, my mother had known, as had most of my father’s closest associates. I told my wife that I was having doubts. I admit it. I hedged a little and didn’t tell her about the FBI. And thank god I didn’t because once I fell asleep she went to my father, who sent his goons in to kidnap me and toss me in one of his punishment houses.
“I was out there in the heat for three weeks. In and out of consciousness. Compared to the others I was soft. My father’s favorite. And I’d been tossed out of the circle of his affection and it sucked. My cousin Patience is a nurse—she managed to see me out there as often as she could. I was dehydrated and in declining health. I don’t know who exactly helped me get out, but I suspect it was Patience and my other cousin Macie. The cops found me left by a road mile marker after it had been called in. I was in the hospital overnight but I was panicked about my kids. My babies. Four-month-old twin boys. At that time I was worried about my wife too, even though she’d been the one who turned me in.”
Cora turned on the broiler to heat up and imagined myriad ways to punch these people who hurt him so much in their stupid faces.
“But the standoff happened just a few hours later. Many escaped. Some died. My wife had our marriage annulled in the eyes of the church and has, as rumor goes, married another one of my cousins who has taken my children as his own. I helped the authorities as much as I could, not only because it was the right thing to do, but because it was a way to keep them working on finding the church members. I wanted my damned kids back and the government had more tools than I did.
“I started modeling as a fluke but it was a way to make the money I needed to hire investigators on my own. It’s been two decades I’ve been searching and aside from sightings of some of my father’s cronies I have had no real leads on my sons. They were four months old then. Even if I’d had a lot of photographs they’re both men now. Adults who certainly don’t look like babies anymore. They’re not in trouble or on any watch lists the way my father is, which makes it more difficult.”
The emotions in his voice at the end were too much and she walked into his arms. Burrowing herself into him, she hugged tightly and told him without words that she was so terribly sorry he’d gone through all that pain.
Finally she pulled away and he tipped her chin up with the tip of his finger and kissed her before he got back to dinner and his story.
“Most of this is common enough knowledge that I’ve had a few people try to extort me for information about the group over the years. I paid because I had the money and I’d rather spend it and find them than not spend it and risk the info being real.”
Someone was trying to extort him? On her own doorstep? Oh. No fucking way was that allowed.
“However, four times in the last twenty years I have been contacted by someone in the group still. They say they have information on my sons and want to set up a meeting. Twice in those four times there were other pieces of information that I forwarded to the authorities and they turned out to be real solid clues on the whereabouts of the Road. Once they even caught up to my dad’s most recent location and managed to take in one of the members who’d stayed behind to handle any loose ends that needed tying up for their move. That member refused to say anything in his own defense and pleaded guilty. I’ll count myself lucky if he does three years of his eight-year sentence.
“But I’ve never been able to meet this contact in person. He or she, each time, has either gotten spooked or simply not shown up. Though, like I said, twice the source left information that actually helped. That’s what the note on your doorstep today was. That’s why I had to contact my agent and the investigators right away.”
Cora waited for him to tip the pasta into the boiling water before she put the bread into the oven.
“That sounds like a nightmare. I hope you find your children so they get a chance to know you,” she said. “What all did it say?”
“My uncle is back here in the US. Which I did know because my investigators reported that to me. But the note says he’s here because one of the group is really ill.”
She took his hands. “Your sons?”
“The note didn’t say and all I can do is hope not.”
“Does the church, or your dad, whatever, believe in getting medical care or is it not okay?”
“When I was younger there were no problems with going to the doctor. But over time and especially after we moved to Arizona, the rules for daily life got much more strict. Fortunately there were two nurses who were part of the church and most things could be dealt with by them. Something serious though? Diabetes or anything more than basic surgery or setting of bones, cancer? George, my father, was into laying on of hands when people were at their most ill and desperate. They died and he said it was that they didn’t work hard enough or that God called them home. I have no doubt that it’s something similar even today.”
She moved to take the bread out and he tossed the pasta with the other ingredients and took the pan to the table while she transferred the bread to a plate.
“This is nowhere near as flashy as the food you make but it’s pretty hard to mess up good bread slathered in butter, garlic and cheese,” she told him.
They settled in and she was beyond words until she’d shoveled food into her face for a few minutes.
He finally spoke again right around the time she realized she must have looked like a hungry teenager as she gobbled her dinner.
“So what’s your verdict? Should I include this on my short list for the cookbook?”
When she blushed and hid her face behind her napkin, he laughed. She said, “As if the way I just inhaled my plate wasn’t enough? It’s amazing. I might even let this get to second base I dug it so much.”
“I love it when you enjoy the food I make. It’s a huge compliment to see you eat with such relish. Sexy too.”
“I’m so glad you find my virtual inhalation of everything but the fork as a positive instead of a slovenly bad habit.”
“Maybe if it was someone else’s food,” he teased.
She snickered but sobered quickly, returning to the subject of the letter. “I mean, they told you someone was ill but not who specifically. Are they asking for money or medical assistance or what?”
“You’re not even going to mention the fact that the letter came here to your home? I honestly can’t believe you even let me stay after I told you all that.”
“That’s not your fault though. So how could I be angry at you about that? I’m a bitch sometimes but I’m not an asshole,” she said.
“It is my fault. It’s not like that letter would have shown up here if I weren’t here so often. Which means they’re watching me as much as I watch them only they’re doing it better because I still don’t fucking know where they are.”
“Because you’re not hiding! You’re not on the run from the FBI and Interpol or whatever. I don’t blame you for this. I’m glad they found you and I hope you don’t end up disappointed.”
“The letter just had the info in it. No ask. But it will come. That’s how this person has worked in the past. A contact note that shows up via courier. Like this one. My investigators will call the place to get any info they can, but there won’t be any. They’ll have paid in cash. Usually to a middleman in need of some quick money to take the letter in on their behalf. Next will be the ask. Sometimes it comes via phone or email. It’s a waiting game now.”
“I don’t even know what to say. Nothing wise or helpful I’m sure. Your dad sounds like a dreadful asshole. I’m sorry your ex stole your kids. What can I do? Tell me what I can do to help.”
“At this point I’m doing it all. Just listening to me helps, so thank you. I’m sorry this involved you. I don’t normally...” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I usually see people outside my circle. So they don’t get involved in any of my personal business other than my dick. It sounds shallow, I know. But now that you’ve been dragged into this it makes me nervous for you.”
“How I’ll feel or that I’m somehow in danger?”
He honestly didn’t think she was in danger. But he could admit—to himself anyway—that he was worried she’d get turned off by all his drama and want to break things off.
“I just don’t want you to think all I bring to your life is this sort of crap.”
Cora burst out laughing. “Earlier today I was feeling a little guilty because honestly you’re the most deliciously gorgeous creature on this earth and I can’t stop thinking about how fucking hot you are. And then I thought oh no, I’m objectifying him and he’s so much more than that. Like the way you always make me food. And you’re tall so you can reach stuff and you’re great at getting us through a crowd. A note on my door isn’t a deal breaker as long as I can keep wanting to eat you up with a spoon.”
He had no idea how she managed to do it, but she just had a way of cutting through bullshit and taking things down to what truly mattered. It wasn’t like he was unaware of his looks. That she found him so delicious meant something altogether different to him than it had with anyone else.
“Always feel welcome to nibble or lick or suck any part of me.”
She fanned herself at his leer and he relaxed a little more.
He’d come a long way from that uneducated and woefully unprepared for the world teenager who’d escaped Road to Glory with nothing more than the clothes on his back. He understood that he’d been a child raised to believe in everything his father said. Sometimes that alleviated some of the guilt he felt.
His father had stolen his childhood, but Beau had taken his adulthood and all that potential and made something of himself. But he also had two children he’d only held a handful of times before his wife had taken them and run off with the rest of the group.
He wanted Cora to know that about him. Wanted her to understand he’d never give up looking for them, and given her reaction and the way she looked at him, she did understand.
What experiences and opportunities had his sons lost a chance at because of George Petty?
“So. You still cool dating me?” he asked her. He was aiming for teasing and flirty, but there was a whole lot of truth wound through the words.
Cora frowned and got up to circle the table and straddle his lap, facing him. “Thanks for sharing all that with me. I’m obviously still cool dating you because you have a meaty penis and you cook me food. Plus you look damned good naked.” She patted his chest over his heart. “And you have a big, good heart. I want you to find your sons. I want you to be able to hug them.”
Emotion swamped him as he swallowed against the lump in his throat and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her tight.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He wanted to be able to hug them too.