Page 82 of Salvaged Hearts

“What do you mean you don’t know? Was he still in bed this morning?” Leighton’s questions drew my focus up, and I chewed on my lip as my nerves took over. Her swooniness gave way to judgment as she glared at me.“Tell me you didn’t.”

Greyson

“She just left?!”

“Yeah,” I groused, collapsing into the armchair in the living room as my brother followed. “She was gone when I woke up. That’s why I came here, fucker.”

“Oh fuck, man.”

“That sums it up.”

“This sucks.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

“I mean, it’s one of two things,” he said, shaking his head as he crossed his arms.

“Do either of them end with a sniper putting me out of my misery in your living room?”

“Uh. No.” He sat on the coffee table across from me. “You either misread it, or she’s freaking out.”

“So, I’m a limp dick piece of shit that just slept with my assistant. Or she’s also panicking?”

“Pretty much.” He sat staring at our feet for a long beat before hopefully asking, “Maybe she’s in the office?”

“Nah,” I shook my head. “Jax tailed her—because she left without him,which is a whole other conversation—and she’s at her old condo.”

“Leighton still lives there.”

“I guess.”

“We dropped her off the other day. She’s there,” he insisted.

“What the fuck are you doing dropping off my sister-in-law?”

“She came over to paint Mattie’s nails,” he said simply. I scowled at him until he added, “They really hit it off, and the nanny was busy, so she babysat. Am I not allowed to make friends with our new in-laws?”

“The feral one?”

“She’s not fucking feral,” he snapped defensively. “She’sprotective. If anybody can respect that, it’s you, motherfucker.”

Begrudgingly, I agreed, “Fair.”

“Besides. It’s not my doghouse we’re analyzing right now. It’s yours. If she’s with Leighton, that’s probably good, right? She probably needed to talk.”

“If she was going to get rid of me, I assume she’d go to Paxton,” I mused. But the look on his face said the sister was more of a concern than I wanted to acknowledge. “Outstanding,” I growled.

“Look. There’s not a lot you can do here. Really, your only option is to go to work and pretend all is normal until you have time to talk to her.”

“Talk.”

“Yes, you dipshit. Talk. Like this. Tell her what you’re thinking.”

“Not my forte.”

“Nope,” he agreed amicably as he rose to his feet. “But if you can come over here with your tail between your legs, you can go face your wife in the office.”

17

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