Page 80 of Meet Cute or Your Money Back

I lean in, my arms resting on my knees as I fix the kid with a stare that could strip paint. “You’re not leaving until you tell me why the fuck you’re prowling around my house,” I say, voice low but loaded. It’s not a threat; it’s a promise.

Hunter’s over there, silent as the night itself, his dark gaze locked on the kid like he’s prey. The two of us, we’re a regular good cop, terrifying cop routine without even trying.

“Okay!” Logan finally bursts out, his voice cracking under the weight of our stares. He’s shaking now, eyes wide and flickering between Hunter’s stony silence and my unblinking scrutiny. “It was Allie’s boss, all right? She paid me to watch your house, see who comes and goes. And follow you around.”

The words hit me like a gut punch. Allie’s boss? Why would the editor of a food critic be interested in me? My head spins, but I keep my face stone cold. Can’t let this kid see the storm that’s brewing inside.

“If you are supposed to be following me, then why are you here at my house when no one is home?”Especially since I was just with Allie at her place.

He looks down at his hands, wringing his fingers together. “I was paid to follow Allie on her datetonight and take photos. But then I saw you two kissing and I, um, I stopped taking pictures.”

I feel both Hunter and Griffin’s eyes whip to me, but if Logan is aware, he doesn’t let on and continues talking. “It felt wrong. I like Ms. Larsen… I don’t want to get her in any trouble. So I decided to go a little rogue and come snoop around your house while you were...” He fades off.

“Keep talking,” I push, my tone sharp as a tack. “What does Allie’s boss want with my place? With pictures of Allie’s date?”

He shrugs, a jerky, scared little movement. “Man, I don’t know. I’m just doing my job. You’re the one who told me to get a job!”

“Actually, that was Allie,” I say. “Iwanted you to go to jail.”

“All I know is that Allie’s boss wanted documented photos of Allie’s date tonight. And I was supposed to keep an eye on you. I was...to report back, man. I don’t know what for. Honest.”

Honest. Right. If honesty had legs, it’d have sprinted out of this room faster than you can say “undercover surveillance.” But the kid’s telling the truth—I’ve seen enough liars to know. And that truth has got me racing down a rabbit hole I never wanted to tumble into.

I’m standing there, a statue with a pulse, the kid’s words echoing in the hollows of my mind. Allie’s boss. Surveillance. Betrayal. It’s a bitter cocktail, and it’s got my insides doing somersaults. Disbelief is the first chaser, numbing the initial burn.

“There’s no way Allie could be part of this, right?” I murmur, looking up at Griffin in shock. We did our due diligence. I looked into her. I made sure she was exactly whoshe said she was. She’s all quirky smiles and puppy snuggles and impromptu dance-offs in the living room.

But then anger elbows its way in, hot and fierce, like I’ve swallowed coal.

“Thatcher,” Griffin starts, his voice a low thread in the heavy air. He’s leaning against the doorframe, blue eyes clouded with concern. “Is Allie lying to you?”

“I’m not sure,” I say, voice flat as a pancake. My chest feels tight, every breath a tug-of-war between keeping cool and wanting to punch a hole through the wall.

Hunter stands there, a silent sentinel, but his clenched fists speak for him. The guy has my back without saying a word, and that’s more comfort than he knows.

“Maybe the kid’s got it wrong,” Griffin offers, but we both know he’s grasping at straws. His attempt at a reassuring grin is about as convincing as a politician’s promise.

Logan rolls his eyes. “The kiddoesn’t have it wrong. I don’t know why Allie’s involved, but sheisinvolved somehow.”

My mind races back to Allie’s date with Kenneth and the weird way her sister was trying to take photos of the date. “What if Allie isn’t a food reviewer,” I say, the words tasting like acid on my tongue. I can’t stop the images flashing through my head—Allie laughing in my kitchen. The guilty look on her face in my office. How she seemed to know things before I told her. Now they’re just question marks, hovering like dark clouds over every memory.

“Could be,” Griffin concedes, but the seed of doubt is already planted, roots digging deep into my gut. Achingly sad doesn’t even begin to cover it; it’s like watching your favorite record warp in the sun—something beautiful turning into something you can’t quite recognize.

“What do we do with the kid?” Hunter finally asks, voice like gravel.

There’re a few ways to handle this, but calling the cops will only alert Allie and her boss that we’re onto them…if there’s anything to be onto in the first place. “Drop him back at his house. He has a grandmother to care for…isn’t that right?”

Logan’s eyes find mine, momentary relief in them. “Thank you?—”

“Not so fast,” I say, grabbing his phone and holding it up. “Delete these photos.Now.”

“Are you sure?” Griffin asks.

“Excuse me? Of course I’m sure.”

“Okay…but we could use this kid as our insider now. A little double agent action.”

“Right.” I nod, my resolve flickering back to life. “Delete the images of us kissing,” I say to Logan. “And any images that might have my son in them. Understood?”

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