in New York City. “Are we talking about seven days of me practicing with my violin or you?” he asks.
My lips curve. “Both actually,” I say, reaching for the door.
He catches my arm and pulls me backward, his hand catching my head as he leans over me, his mouth quickly next to my mouth. “Seven days of practice requires you to stay with me all seven days,” he informs me before kissing me soundly on the lips.
I twist around to face him. “Are there cookies in this for me?”
“Every day if you want them. I’ll call Walker and update them on everything while you’re inside.”
“Maybe you should promise them cookies, too?”
He laughs and a car honks. “Have to go,” I say, opening the door and darting out of the vehicle, smiling as I do. Kace makes me smile. He makes me laugh. He makes me happy. And I don’t remember happiness ever being a priority in my life.
I’ve just entered the pharmacy when my cellphone buzzes with a text. I grab it from my purse and eye a message from Nancy. Oh my God, he’s gorgeous and famous. And I need to know everything. I’d call you, but I know you’re with him. Please have pity on me and call me soon.
I smile yet again, with Kace at the core of that smile. She’s right. He is gorgeous and famous, but Kace August is so much more. Damaged. Complicated. Sweet. Demanding. Too many things to discuss right now with Kace waiting for me. And honestly, I’m not sure I’m ready to discuss me and Kace at all. And so, I reply to Nancy with one word: Tomorrow, that at least buys me time before I head toward the pharmacy window.
A few minutes later, I’m talking to the pharmacist about how to dose my medication he’s filled when the hair on the back of my neck bristles. My gaze lifts and cuts right, where I find a tall, broad-shouldered man, staring at me, part of his face hidden by a display. I stare at him. He stares at me. Now the hair on my arms is bristling, too, and my heart is racing.
Reigning in the fight or flight reaction threatening to take control, I warn myself not to overreact.
This could be one of Savage’s men, I reason, but that’s not what my gut tells me. Kace has only just given them a partial go ahead. He is not one of Savage’s men. I know he’s not.
He cuts away from me, out of sight, and my heart leaps. What if that man knows where my brother is? I have to go after him. I mean no, I don’t dare approach him, that’s not safe, but can I, from a safe distance, snap a photo of him or a license plate or something, anything that I can give to Savage to find my brother? I have to try. With my drugs in hand, I excuse myself from the pharmacist, cutting toward the man.
I hurry in the direction the man traveled, hoping I can catch him or see where he went. Or just get a better view. Darting around a corner I’m now at the endcap that covers several aisles, but the man is nowhere to be found, and considering he was quite tall, he’s either ducked down or just gone. Maybe this was all my imagination anyway. Maybe Gio’s disappearance and my deep-rooted need to control all that’s around me, no doubt inherited from my mother, has me looking to take it to places where there is nothing to be found.
I rotate and run smack into a hard body, gasping with the impact and jolting away from the connection, only to be pulled into Kace’s arms. “Easy, baby. I didn’t mean to become a brick wall that all but knocked you over, but I saw you barreling down the aisle and was worried.”
“I just—I thought you were waiting in the car?”
“The paparazzi are still on the hunt. They must have followed us from your place. We need to get out of here before you end up as their target.”
A small degree of relief washes over me. That man wasn’t about me or Gio. He was hunting gossip about Kace, which is a whole other problem for later.
“There was a man staring at me, but the minute he knew I knew he was there, he took off. I was concerned he might be somehow connected to Gio disappearing, so I tried to catch him