Come To Me (Dare With Me #3) - J.H. Croix Page 0,53

if I could see her that night. With my current living situation, it wasn’t that I couldn’t bring someone out here, but it was a guaranteed way to make anyone feel like they were under the microscope. I had three nosy guy friends, and an even nosier sister living with me.

I had barely gotten into the kitchen at the resort to grab another cup of coffee when Harley came barreling out of the pantry. “Why the hell is an attorney calling me?”

“How should I know? And why the hell are you asking me?” I finished filling my coffee and set the pot back on the warmer. Turning, I rested my hips against the counter and took a swallow.

“Some attorney left me a message about a matter pertaining to Gemma.”

I lowered my coffee, and icy dread slid down my spine. “What?”

Harley handed me her phone, tapping the screen to open her voicemail and hit play.

“I’m looking for Harley Jackson. This is Tom Johnson, an attorney based in Portland. I understand you’re familiar with Gemma Marlon. We have a question about a legal case pertaining to her and are hoping you might be able to provide some information.”

“What the fuck?” I muttered as she hit the stop button and closed her phone.

“That’s my train of thought,” Harley said dryly.

I pulled my phone out and was about to call Gemma when Harley placed her hand on my forearm. “Don’t call her yet. We need to find out what the situation is.”

Daphne came walking in the kitchen, her alert gaze whisking around the room. “What’s up?” she asked, making a beeline for the coffee and pouring herself a cup.

“I got a really weird message about Gemma,” Harley explained. She replayed the message for Daphne.

Daphne’s brow furrowed as she divided her concerned gaze between us. “This seems really weird. You’ve only known Gemma since you’ve been here, right?” She directed her question to Harley.

“Yeah, why would they call me? All I know is Diego has the hots for her, and she teaches a really good yoga class.”

I hated the way I felt, confused and filled up with questions.

“I think we need to talk to Gemma,” Daphne said firmly.

“I don’t think so,” Harley interjected, shaking her head quickly. “What do you know about her?”

Daphne wasn’t easily cowed and gave my sister a sharp look. “Not a lot, but I trust her. This strikes me as odd. There’s no sensible reason for someone to call you unless it’s not on the up and up.”

Harley wrinkled her nose and blinked. “Okaa-ay. Should we tell Gemma about the message?”

“Are you going to call her?” Daphne asked, looking to me.

The lingering feelings of amazing-ness that had been clinging to me after my night with Gemma had dissipated. I felt as if someone had dumped ice water on me. Obviously, Gemma had no way of knowing this about me. I had a giant button about trust when it came to women, and it had just been pressed. Hard.

“I don’t know if I should,” I finally replied, feeling kind of like an asshole.

Daphne stared at me, a hint of confusion swirling in her eyes. “I thought you were seeing her.”

“We’ve had two dinner dates,” I said, now feeling like even more of an ass. While that was technically true, what had passed between us was far more than casual. That was my whole problem now.

Daphne’s brows hitched up, and even Harley looked askance at me. Daphne shrugged. “Well, I consider Gemma a friend, so I’ll be calling her. Since apparently this is none of your business, you don’t need to be a part of that call.”

Daphne walked off with a dismissive flick of her fingers over her shoulder. Every now and then, she reminded me precisely why Flynn had given her the nickname princess. I wanted to run after her and tell her I’d call Gemma about it, but now I felt like a heel. Annoyed with myself and the situation, I lifted my coffee mug and drained it quickly before leaving the room. I didn’t have much time this morning before I needed to get out to the airport. I’d needed a change of clothes and my gear bag, so I’d come home. I was regretting it now.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Gemma

“I’m sorry, can you say that again?” I asked, adjusting my phone in my hand.

“Harley got a really weird message,” Daphne explained. “Here’s exactly what it said, I wrote it down. ‘I’m looking for Harley Jackson. This is Tom Johnson, an attorney based