Page 25 of In A Mood For Mr. Wrong

She exhales slowly, rubbing her temple. "And then what, Grayson? I can’t just disappear from my life."

I grip the wheel tighter. "We figure out our next move. But right now, I need to make sure you’re out of reach."

She doesn’t respond right away. Instead, she turns toward me, studying me in the dim glow of the dashboard. "Why are you doing this?" she asks, her voice softer than before.

I glance at her, my pulse spiking at the way she’s looking at me, like she’s seeing something she hadn’t considered before.

"Because someone has to protect you, Evans. And I’m not going to let it be anyone else."

She holds my gaze a second longer before finally looking away, but not before I catch the slight hitch in her breath. We drive in silence, the tension thick between us, neither of uswilling to acknowledge that everything between us is shifting. And that no matter where we go, there’s no turning back now.

By the time we pull up to the secluded cabin, the sun is beginning to rise, casting long golden streaks across the dense forest surrounding us. The place is nestled between towering trees, set far enough off the road that it’s nearly invisible from a distance. The only sign of life is the porch light, left on as if someone had been expecting us.

Margot shifts beside me, taking in the scene with wary eyes. "This is your friend’s place?"

"Yeah. Carter owns it. He’s out of the country right now, but he left me the keys in case I ever needed it. Figured now qualifies."

She exhales, running a hand through her hair. "Secluded, private, safe."

I nod. "Exactly."

I kill the engine and step out, stretching my stiff muscles before grabbing her bag from the backseat. Margot hesitates a second longer before following, wrapping her arms around herself as she steps onto the gravel driveway. Unlocking the door, I push it open, revealing the cozy interior, a large open living space with a stone fireplace, a fully stocked kitchen, and a hallway leading to the bedrooms. It’s quiet, peaceful, and a hell of a lot safer than the city.

Margot crosses the threshold, glancing around. "Alright. We’re here. Now what?"

I drop our bags by the door and turn to face her. "Now, we get some rest. Then, we figure out how to end this."

She exhales, crossing her arms. "And in the meantime? What aboutPerfectly Matched?"

I knew this was coming. As much as we’ve been thrown into chaos, neither of us is the type to let business slip. Especially not her.

20

MARGOT

We’ve been on the road for a while now, leaving the city lights behind us and trading them for long, dark stretches of highway that seem to stretch endlessly ahead. I haven’t said much. I’ve been too caught up in the storm behind my ribs, too focused on keeping myself from unraveling completely. My fingers won’t stay still, tapping lightly against my thigh as the silence between us deepens.

Eventually, I turn to him, my voice barely louder than the hum of the tires against the asphalt. “Where are we going?”

Grayson doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “A friend’s place. It’s out of the way. No one will find us there.”

I exhale, pressing my fingertips to my temple like I can massage the stress out of my skull. “And then what? I can’t just disappear. I have a life. A company. A future.”

His hands tighten on the steering wheel, his knuckles stark white against the leather. “I’m not asking you to disappear. I’m getting you out of the blast zone until we figure out how to take control again.”

I’m quiet for a moment. The rhythm of the highway is steady, almost hypnotic. Then I glance sideways at him, trying to read his expression. “Why are you doing this, Grayson?”

He flicks his eyes toward me, just for a second. There’s something in the way he looks at me, something fierce, and maybe a little afraid.

“Because someone has to look after you,” he says, his voice quiet but firm. “And I’m not about to trust anyone else with that.”

I hold his gaze, my breath catching in a way I don’t entirely understand. He looks away first, but the shift between us lingers. Something unspoken and heavy settles into the space, riding along with us in the silence.

By the time we pull off the main road, dawn is just beginning to break. Soft pinks and pale gold stretch across the sky, spilling light through the gaps in the trees. The gravel crunches beneath the tires as we wind up a narrow, tree-lined path that seems to lead nowhere. And then the cabin appears.

It’s nestled deep in the woods, half-hidden by towering pines and framed by overgrown brush. The porch light glows faintly, like someone had turned it on expecting us, even though we both know no one’s home.

I study the place as we park. “This belongs to your friend?”

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