By the following Monday, Ben had confirmed her ex’s snowmobile rental and no-show for a return. Rather than wait for a judge to grant the authorities a search warrant, Ben convinced Sloane to contact the Montana Mavericks’ producer to search Gavin’s RV on the set near Bozeman.

Deirdre had quickly complied, wanting to avoid more of the tabloid gossip that had been circulating over the weekend. Didn’t hurt that Sloane had pulled out all the stops to guilt her former friend into saying yes.

Now Ben walked beside Sloane, with Deirdre just ahead of them. He figured the slightly overweight woman had been charmed by Gavin’s attention, given the just-shy-of-fifty-year-old had confessed to fooling around with the man.

“Gavin didn’t take anything with him other than his company SUV and a small pack of clothes,” Deirdre said as she opened the door to his RV. “Honestly, Sloane, I had no idea how unhinged he’d become until he fell apart on the set last week.”

“Did you think she exaggerated the truth when she told you what happened?” Ben said, entering the RV and taking in the luxurious interior. Damn nice place to live.

“Sort of.”

“Deirdre. I warned you,” Sloane said as she moved to the banquet with a laptop on it. “Checking him out of rehab was a huge mistake.”

Sloane had been distant after they’d returned to the mountain house the day before. She’d hunkered down in her room and claimed she had to catch up on her screenplay.

But then, he’d laid a big one on her with his info about Gavin. He supposed she had to process it first or something. He’d given her the space she needed while he researched the company he’d been considering hiring on with if he didn’t redeploy with the Marines.

“I know that now,” Deirdre said. “I’ll head back to the office while you’re searching for answers. Take as much time as you need to find what you’re looking for… and please… I hope you can find a way to forgive me for everything.”

The woman had let them into the RV without demanding the police get involved to make up for springing Gavin from rehab. Ben glanced at Sloane, wondering if she’d give Deirdre a second chance.

“I do,” Sloane said firmly without looking up from the laptop. “We’ll swing by when we’re done so you can lock up again.”

“Sounds good,” Deirdre said quietly before leaving them alone.

Ben crossed over to the granite-topped banquet. “You’ll need the password to get into his files.”

She scooted along the plush leather seat to make room for him. “I’m betting he hasn’t changed it.”

He sat next to her, brushing his legs against her thighs while Sloane keyed in the words HandsomeDevil. “Really? Handsome fucking devil?”

“Just be glad he’s narcissistic,” she said ruefully. “And I’m in.”

He heard the excitement in her high-pitched voice. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, making his fingers tingle and his heart race. “Open his photo app.”

She clicked the icon. “Oh my God,” she gasped. “He’s been keeping tabs on me… on us… for days.”

There were dozens of pictures of Sloane working in the kitchen, some videos of her moving through the house taken from the woods lining the back yard’s perimeter, and even some of the night he’d turned up on the deck while she’d been soaking in the hot tub… nude.

“Fuck.” Ben wrapped his arm around Sloane’s stiff shoulders. “He’s been tracking us for days with a telephoto lens.”

“You were right about me not going near him, but this has got to end soon. I refuse to live in a cage while he runs around free.” Sloane clicked another application and opened the Documents file. “Nothing here but contracts and scripts.”

“Check his emails. I’ll contact the authorities now that we have hard evidence.” Ben shifted and pulled his cell phone from his back pocket. A message popped up on the screen. His commanding officer with good news… news he’d hoped for a few short weeks ago, but now? He ignored the summons to call in ASAP for his next deployment details. Instead, he texted the county’s sheriff. Told him to get a search warrant before coming to the show’s location near Bozeman. “You see anything?”

She shook her head. “Only forwarded fan mail and… no, wait… here’s something from his mother.” Sloane opened the email, which had been sent just before Gavin’s last meltdown.

Heads together, they scanned the letter. His mother had sent dozens of pictures of her new grandbaby along with a glowing report about his sister and slipped in a few digs about Gavin’s career falling apart and how he’d never amount to anything. She said the only reason he’d been successful at all had been because of Sloane.

“God. Poor Gavin.” Sloane closed the program and pulled the laptop shut. “No wonder he’s so messed up.”

Ben clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth hard. Poor motherfucker. He didn’t know the guy, but despite everything he’d done to Sloane, Ben saw the wounded man behind the actions. “I can’t imagine my parents being so deliberately cruel,” Ben said. “Explains his meltdown.” And Gavin’s subsequent clumsy attempt to kill him.

“He believes the only way he can regain their love and approval is to win me over. That I’ll save his career and that’ll get him the attention he craves,” Sloane said, her voice catching.

“Not happening.” Not on his watch.

“We have to find a way to stop him before he permanently derails his life.”

Ben’s neck stiffened, and every sinew knotted at the base of his skull. She still wanted to save Gavin from himself. Commendable. But wrong. “I’m not concerned with him.” Ben slid out of the banquet and held out his hand. “You’re all that matters. Right now, he’s armed and dangerous. We’ve got to find out where he is, sic the authorities on him, and get him behind bars.”

Sloane slipped her palm into his, slid out of the booth, and stood. “I agree.” Her stomach twisted into a hard knot. Would she ever truly trust a man again? She released Ben’s hand, holding his gaze. “Gavin is a broken man and needs more than I or any other woman can give him. Plus, I’m through with anyone who can’t be 100 percent up-front with me regardless of my potential reaction.”

She moved around him and made her way toward the RV’s door. “We should go. I’ll tell Deirdre to lock this place up until the sheriff arrives.”

The tips of Ben’s ears burned. Fuck. He’d screwed up when he’d tried to hide his suspicions from Sloane. But damn it. He’d only wanted to protect her.

He followed her outside and noted her ramrod-straight back. What the hell else would she demand of him if he moved forward and accepted the position he’d been offered? He was sworn to secrecy about this role. And if he stayed in the Marines, he’d have to conceal a ton of intel.

She waited for him at the foot of the steps leading to the RV’s door. The sun blazed down on her, and the wind whipped her dark curls, making them swirl like a small tornado around her head. “Do you want to clue Hank in on the latest before we head over to the main set?”

“I’ll do that after we wrap up here. Let’s roll.” He indicated the snow-packed path that led to the soundstage located a short distance from the actors’ RVs. He took her hand, and they walked toward the set.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my concerns after the shooting,” he said quietly as they approached the building. “I’m trained to keep my mouth shut about a lot of stuff. Comes naturally to me.”

“You didn’t trust me with something that had nothing to do with fighting wars,” she said softly. “And that makes me wary. Because that info could impact both our lives. I needed to know. Period.”

“Understood.” But he couldn’t promise he’d never hide things from Sloane in the future even if they had the chance of colliding with all their dreams and hopes.

“Thanks for letting me know,” Deirdre said after Sloane relayed their discoveries. “I’ll contact the publicity department to warn them about the potential fallout.”

Sloane rubbed the back of her neck. If Deirdre had considered the ramifications of springing a mentally ill gambling addict from rehab, there’d be no reason to do damage control. “Do that,” she said. “You okay with us talking to some of the crew about what happened last week?”

“Absolutely. We’re on lunch break. I’m sure everyone will cooperate. After all, they all love you and still miss you writing for the show. We all do.” Deirdre pushed away from her desk and stood. “I’ll see you out.”

“Thanks so much,” Sloane said. “And thanks for the kind words about my work on the show.” She’d meant what she said to Deirdre about forgiving her. Maybe one day they’d hook up for drinks after she returned to Los Angeles, but she doubted she’d ever trust Deirdre to the degree she had before.

Having a crazy ex-fiancé running around on the loose because of Deirdre’s poor judgment had a lot to do with it. But everyone deserved a second chance, including Deirdre. After all, she’d been genuinely remorseful.

They made their way over to the main set where long, cloth-covered tables were placed near the back wall. Cast members and the technical crew moved on either side of the tables, loading their plates with food from the platters of cut fruit, vegetables, sandwiches, various meats, cheese, and crackers.

Sloane slowed her pace for a minute, taking in the familiar scene with her hand pressed to the center of her chest. She’d made memories with many of the people currently plating up their lunch. A part of her would always miss the instant family they’d been when she’d been a writer for the Montana Mavericks show. “Come on,” she said. “We’ll grab a plate and join them.”

“Sounds good.”

She started toward the catered tables of food when she heard a familiar voice call, “Sloane, wait.”

Hearing the urgency in the production assistant’s voice, Sloane stopped in her tracks and turned to face the younger man—an intern from her days with the program who’d stayed on after his graduation from university. “What’s up, Jack?”

“I’m so glad I caught you before you left Bozeman.” He panted for air. Clearly, he’d been running to catch her. “I got a call from a guy at DeCicco Loans. He’s looking for Gavin.”

She frowned. That was the same company Gavin used to settle his last gambling debts. “How much does he owe them?” She rubbed her brow.

“Not sure, but he padded his last expense report.” Jack shrugged and gave her a sympathetic look. “He’s probably up to his proverbial eyeballs in debt. Hell. He asked me to spring for drinks a few weeks ago, and you know I don’t earn a ton of money. He’s the one with the six-figure contract, not me.”

No longer hungry and no longer caring about what else happened to make Gavin snap, Sloane thanked Jack for the information, and she and Ben made their way back to Ben’s SUV.

She buckled her seatbelt. “I can’t believe he did this to himself again.”

“He’s after you to bail him out of every damn mistake he’s made since you left him. Man’s incapable of loving a person.”

Her breath caught in her lungs for a moment. Once, she’d believed her ex did give a damn about her, but she’d been wrong. He’d self-destructed and taken her along for the ride. “I wouldn’t take him back under any circumstance,” she said. “There’s no way he’s getting anything from me again. I learned my lesson the hard way, to the tune of mountains of debt almost as high as these mountains.” She pointed to the white-capped range in the distance. No. She’d never let another man take advantage of her again. “That’s why trust is extremely important to me now. I hope you feel the same way.”

When he didn’t reply right away, she shot him a quick look as they entered the freeway. A muscle jumped in his jaw and the pulse in his temple pumped faster.

He’s holding something back. Not telling me everything. Am I making another mistake? Did our forced proximity confuse my feelings of gratitude for his protection and make me believe we had something more after all?

She changed the direction of her view to glance at the trees and bushes dotting the countryside. She wanted to trust Ben… had trusted him with her body and her life… but if he didn’t trust her too, they had nothing to build their fledgling relationship on.