Page 75 of Stolen Sun

Scooping her up, I take her straight to the bedroom to fill her up again.

“Will we even be able to see anything?” Noel asks. We pull over to the side of the road in front of the property. She has a point—it’s heavily wooded.

The realtor pulls in behind us, and we get out of the truck to meet him. After introductions and talking about the overview of the property, he tells us about a side entrance that is cleared some. He points to the side-by-side on his open trailer.

We unload it and ride with him to the clearing. He takes us through as much of it that’s driveable. Then, he stops to let us walk some while he hangs back.

“What do you think?” I ask her.

“Is it big enough for a side business?” She asks, digging the toe of her shoe in the dirt.

“Side business?” I walk over to her, so she will look at me when she asks this time.

“Velocity Marketing, maybe?” Her eyes are guarded, but she stares up at me without blinking.

“No, baby,” I shake my head, and she looks away. “Sunshine Art Studio or Gallery, Noel’s Whatever The Fuck She Decides Today, but whatever you call it, it’s yours, not Velocity’s, not anyone else’s. And not a compromise like marketing.”

She jumps on me, arms and legs wrapping around me. She covers my face in kisses before she lands one on my mouth, and I don’t let her go. When we break away, I turn to walk back to the realtor.

“Sold,” I tell him.

“That’s great!” He exclaims, driving us back to our vehicles.

I spend the next few hours in his tiny office finishing the paperwork, while Noel checks out an art studio close by. When the wire transfer shows complete, he hands over the stack of documents, and I’m out the door.

Noel is already back, waiting for me outside. When I look at her, I know something is wrong.

“Can we fly back tonight?” She asks.

“What the fuck happened?”

“Jaclyn text me. She said she has proof that Nate was murdered and needs me to go with her to the police station.”

“She’s fucking lying to you, Noel,” I grab her hand and help her into the Tahoe.

“I need to see it for myself,” she says, and I know she isn’t going to let this go.

We grab our things from the house and get to the airport just in time to catch the last flight to Birmingham.

Thank fuck it’s almost midnight before we make it out of the airport, so I don’t have to talk her out of dealing with this bullshit tonight. She hasn’t said much all afternoon, but I’m trying not to push her.

When we’re finally in my truck on the way to my house, she starts talking.

“Did anything on that USB drive point to something like this?”

Fuck. I don’t mind hiding shit from her or even redirecting her when she gets close, but I don’t want to lie to her. Not for her fucking Dad.

“There was proof of a motive.”

“What motive?” I can feel her glaring at me.

“The marriage contract between his dad and yours states you have to have a male child before you turn 30 or the entire estate will be donated,” I deliver the news like it means nothing, doing my best to soften the blow.

She gasps and takes a few minutes to catch her breath. “But how would that be motive? For who?”

I take a deep breath not wanting to tell her the rest, but I know she won’t let this go.

“He saved fertility charts. He was tracking your cycles and every time you had sex for years,” I stop to let it sink in before I add to the pile of bullshit I’m about to tell her.

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