Page 52 of No More Secrets

“You got my email.” Her gaze darts to the window, on the lookout for Ivy, worried she’ll overhear.

“I don’t know, Shy. I’m not sure I like you sleeping with this guy.”

“I’m not sleepingwithhim. I’m using his spare bedroom. He’s an old man.”

“How old?”

“I don’t know. Like his thirties or something. He could be my father.”

“But he’s not. You don’t know this guy. What if he tries something like that freak show your mom’s slumming with?”

“He won’t.”

“You don’t know that. I can’t believe you’d risk staying with a strange guy after what happened with that deadbeat your mom kept around. I swear, Shy, I was about ready to beat the crap out of him for what he tried to do to you. Good thing you left when you did. Can you honestly tell me this guy is any better?”

“His place is better than sleeping in a beat-up car. I was—” She stops abruptly, her confidence waning. Anything she says could spur his frustration and impatience with her. Would he accuse her of guilting him into coming if she told him she was attacked? She doesn’t want to upset him. He might change his mind about letting her stay with him.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell,” she says when his end of the line goes quiet. “I was scared, and Lucas has given me a place to stay and a job. I can leave anytime, and I promise I will if he tries anything.”

Finn huffs. “Fine. Whatever.”

“I just wanted you to know why I’m hanging out here a little longer. I’m saving up money so I can help pay for rent and food, but it’s still cool to stay with you when I get there, right?” She tugs the hoodie string, nerves making her speak fast.

A long pause.

“Finn?” She hears a noise at the rear entrance and shoots the door a worried glance. “Is it still cool?”

“How long do you think you’ll be?”

“A couple weeks. A month at the most.” She should save enough by then.

“That long?”

“I need enough for rent,” she argues.

Another pause. Then a bothersome groan as if she’s inconveniencing him. “Yes, it’s still cool.”

The back door opens.

Shiloh’s heart jumps. “Gotta go.” She drops the receiver into the cradle and grabs the clipboard.

Ivy approaches her from the stockroom. “How’s inventory?”

She pastes on a smile so Ivy doesn’t suspect she’s out of sorts. “All good.”

24

The door to Mike’s old apartment is already open. Lucas raps a knuckle on the jamb, crossing the threshold, and he nearly trips over his shock. They’re in the kitchen, Ivy and the new tenant, the woman he rang up a sandwich for yesterday, the same one who slept overnight in the Honda. He’d been wary of her before, but now he’s almost positive she’s here for him. She could be an undercover cop.

His heart lurches, and not in a good way. This is it. She knows what he did. But even as he thinks it, he knows it’s illogical. She would have reported his location this afternoon or arrested him herself. Wouldn’t she have?

The woman turns toward him and catches his surprise with an insignificant lift of her brow. Way too chill to be staking him out.

No, she’s not a cop. But she is something.

Ever watchful, ever on alert, he tells himself to play it cool even as he breaks out in a sweat. He shifts his weight and looks her over, the same way she’s assessing him, as he tries to figure out who and what she is. Something about her turns him on. She’s tall and flat chested with narrow hips. Not really his jam. She isn’t pretty, just different. There’s a story to her, and he gets the impression it’s as messy as his. Maybe that’s why he’s drawn to her. He’s always been attracted to danger.

“Lucas, finally. Just the person I want to see.” Ivy draws the woman forward. “I was telling Zea all about you. Zea, this is Lucas. He’s... well, he’s the one I’m trying to convince to buy my building.”

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