through random good luck that Connor happened to move in next door and I’ve got any chance of getting my laptop back. No thanks to Detective Carter.
“Yes ma’am,” he says haltingly, like he expected me to be thankful he was blessing me with a phone call. “Good morning, Miss Woodstock.”
“What the fuck do you want?” I don’t play nice and polite. There’s no need to, not after how he treated me.
“Ahem, well . . . it seems we might’ve gotten off on the wrong foot before.”
I snort. “You could say that. Or you could say that you were a condescending asshole. But that’s probably not why you called, is it? Let me guess . . . my agent called and ripped you a bloody new hole to shit out of, and now you’re trying to play nice?”
Detective Carter clears his throat, not quite dropping his arrogant ‘take charge’ act but definitely taken down a peg or two. Or at least trying to sound contrite. “Poppy—”
I cut him off again. “Deal with Hilda, not me. I have no interest in discussing this matter with you ever again.”
“We have a lead,” he says, the words rushed out like he knows I’ll interrupt him if he doesn’t say them as fast as possible.
“What?” I say woodenly, freezing in place. Even my mouth freezes, hanging open and silent.
“Yes, Miss Woodstock. We have a lead, and I’d like to discuss it with you. I’m sorry for how I behaved last time, but this is important. Very important.” He sounds grave, serious, and infinitely more professional than before.
But a lead?
He can’t have one as good as I have.
Or could he?
Could he have figured out who Connor is too? When I went into the police station that night, I would’ve killed the thief with my bare hands to get my laptop back. I was that desperate and furious.
But now?
Things have changed. I still want my laptop back more than anything, but the thief is a real person to me now.
It’s . . . Connor. My fake fiancé.
I can’t let him get arrested before Caylee’s wedding.
And I don’t think I could let it happen afterward, either. I mean, as long as I get my laptop back, no harm, no foul. And in what I’ve seen over the past few days, he’s going above and beyond in trying to get it back.
I’ve been silent too long, lost in my own swirling, tumbling thoughts, so distracted that I haven’t heard a thing Jax Carter has said, nor the man who’s entered my house.
“Poppy, you okay?” Connor says from right behind me.
I jump a foot in the air, screeching like a banshee. “Ahh!” I spin before my feet, one still bare, hit the floor. “You scared the fuck out of me!”
I swat at Connor’s chest, hard and unyielding beneath my weak smacks. He grins arrogantly and brushes the back of his hand on his chest, ‘wiping off’ my hits like they’re nothing.
A buzz comes from my phone. “Miss Woodstock? Are you okay?”
I realize Detective Carter is still talking in my ear, concerned from my screaming reaction to Connor sneaking up on me. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”
Connor’s eyes tick to the phone pressed to my ear. I can see the questions lurking there. So many questions. I’ve got some too, man. But not now. Now, it’s laptop time.
Priorities, Poppy.
For once, I’ve got to play this smart and not act first, ask questions never. The consequences are too high.
“I’m not interested. Have a good day.” I hang up the phone with Detective Carter still talking.
Despite my assumptions, Connor doesn’t ask who it was.
He never asks questions.
Usually, that’s because I volunteer more information than I probably should. My life’s an open book, for the most part. I’ll share it with Connor, the teller at the bank, and even my readers when I use it as inspiration. Of course, it’s usually boring as fuck. But now, it’s not.
“You ready?” I ask instead. “Let me finish putting my shoes on.”
I slip the other tennis shoe on, bending down to tie it quickly. When I stand, Connor is watching me closely. And something hits me. I’m late. He could’ve left me, gone to the pawn shop without me, or even moved on, leaving me behind to handle it on my own.
But he didn’t. He’s here. He came for me. He kept his promise, and for a man like Connor, that says something. It means a lot. Especially after that kiss.