Page 45 of Tempt My Heart

"Do you think maybe Denver could try hacking him again? See if we can prove he was at my mom's when the fire was set?"

Christopher bit his lip and nodded slowly. "We can try. You think he did it himself?"

She shrugged. "It's the best shot we have at getting the cops to do something at this point. And he never really introduced me to any of his friends, now that I think about it. I guess I’d just assumed he didn’t have any."

“Strange, he seemed like such a nice guy," Christopher quipped and she snorted.

"Okay. If you're sure you want me there—"

“I do," he said quickly and she could feel herself blushing.

"Okay then. I'll just... grab a few things."

He nodded and stayed standing where he was while she grabbed some clothes and toiletries and shoved them all into an overnight bag she'd forgotten she owned and had found at the back of her wardrobe.

"Ready?" he asked about ten minutes later and she nodded, feeling nervous but in a good way, like this could change everything.

"I already called Denver while you were packing," he said as they walked out of her door and headed out of her building to the haphazard parking job he'd performed when he'd rushed in to see her. "He's going to see what he can find. We're going to get him, Ali. He will pay for all of this."

She climbed into the car while he placed her bag in the back. She hoped he was right, but more than anything she hoped that they caught up to her ex before he decided to come looking for them next.

ChapterTwenty-Three

Christopher's place was nothing like she was expecting. She wasn't sure what, exactly, she'd been imagining this whole time—maybe something sleek and modern, similar to the style of the office in the city, but this was the opposite of that. It was quiet, tucked away like a small slice of heaven in an otherwise urban jungle.

The drive had been relatively quick, but she could see how it would likely take a lot longer during rush hour. But even with the added commute time, this summer house was worth it.

He pulled into a turning that was nearly obscured by the thick canopy of greenery that overshadowed the road, and it was clear from how easily he managed the turn in the dark that this was routine for him.

The house was smaller than she would have expected, especially so soon after seeing David Blake's house—Christopher also came from old money, so she had no doubt he could likely afford something similar. That told her he'd gone for this comparatively modest home because he liked it and she found herself fixating on that detail as he turned off the engine and they got out of the car. Maybe it was because it made her feel that they weren't from entirely different worlds after all. Common ground.

They were far enough out of the city that they could see the stars a little, and she smiled when she saw that several lights had been left on in Christopher's haste to get to her.

"It's lovely," she said and it honestly felt like the perfect word for the house. It was built from a mixture of stone and timber, making it feel like it could have sprouted from the ground, and a trellis of wildflowers ran up the side of the wall next to the door, leaving a sweet scent in her nose as he held the door open for her.

"Thank you," he replied as he closed and locked the door behind them. "It's kind of my retreat from the world."

A coat rack hung on the wall but was mostly empty other than an umbrella and a thick winter coat. The downstairs seemed to be split between a lounge and a kitchen diner that were opposite each other, the hall running between.

He was watching her and she squirmed uncomfortably, not sure whether to take off her shoes and just generally waiting for his direction.

"Make yourself at home," he said a moment later, like he'd read her mind, and she toed off her boots and placed them on the shoe rack underneath the coats.

A faint humming sound drifted to her and she realized Christopher had gone on without her. She could see him through the gaps between the wooden beams and he looked like he was... making tea?

"Are you secretly British?" she teased as she walked into the kitchen and accepted the mug he handed her. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone with an actual kettle."

"Wait until you see my teapot collection," he mused and a small laugh left her.

The bottom half of the kitchen and lounge walls were solid, but she could see through the top of the open walls to the room opposite, separated by thick wooden beams.

"Come on," he said, noticing the direction of her gaze and leading her into the other room before nudging her into a tan leather armchair covered with blankets. It shouldn't have surprised her so much that a man who ran an interior design company—albeit for office spaces primarily—would have such good taste.

"Not what you were expecting, huh?" The smile on his face said he wasn't offended as he sat down on the chair next to hers, and she relaxed as she cupped the warm mug of tea. She was generally more of a coffee drinker, but it was hot and soothing as she blew on it and sipped.

"No," she admitted, "but I like it."

"I’m glad. I want you to feel comfortable here."

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