Page 24 of Stolen Goods
“Don’t beat yourself up,” he tried to comfort. “It’s a good thing that you trust people, that you lead the sort of life where you don’t need to always question people’s motives. I wish I— I mean, I can’t even tell you— I—”
Addy glanced up, surprised by the hesitation in his tone. Thad looked down, meeting her gaze. Their lips were barely an inch apart, their noses even closer. The air was static. The world was quiet. A storm whirled in his eyes. Those dark and brooding irises were full of more secrets than any one man should hold. The sight swept her away, leaving her lost in his gaze and in his arms.
“Don’t lose your faith in people,” he murmured. “Not because of this, because of what I dragged you into. It’s too precious a gift to throw away.”
Thad held her eyes a moment longer, then turned his face toward the floor, taking all his secrets with him.
What happened to you?she wanted to ask, staring at the cut edge of his jaw, noticing the tense muscles in his neck and the flat line across his lips, somehow missing his smile. For the first time, she couldn’t help but wonder how in the world his life had turned out this way.
The phone in her hand buzzed.
Addy jumped.
@TheGourmetGoddess: Do either of you actually know what code brown means?
@TheGourmetGoddess: I really don’t think you do…
Addy played dumb.
@Sprinkle-Ella: Chocolate emergency…?
@TheGourmetGoddess: You’re too pure for this world.
@TheBakingBandit: Email me your recipe for the melty ganache and I’ll see if I can think of a way to make it less messy!
@TheGourmetGoddess: You? Help make something cleaner? Am I in an alternate universe?
@TheBakingBandit: I’m a whole new Jo! ;)
@TheBakingBandit: Send me the recipe…
Addy paused.Recipe? What recipe? Maybe Jo isn’t involved… Maybe this was an elaborate ruse to make me trust him… Maybe—
“She’s telling you to send her a phone number,” Thad supplied, noticing Addy’s hesitation.
“Huh?” Addy glanced up, confused.
His focus remained laser sharp on the screen, determinedly so. “We’ll hide it in the recipe. Just tell her you’ll send it.”
@Sprinkle-Ella: Will do!
Thad released her and knelt by the desk to read the number off the landline in the motel room, giving Addy space to breathe for a moment. As he rattled it off, she composed probably the most disgusting chocolate ganache recipe she’d ever seen in her life—six cups of heavy cream, seven cups of bittersweet chocolates, eight tablespoons of white chocolate chips, five-minute prep time, three-minute simmer, and so on and so on until she had the entire number coded in. Anyone who’d ever spent any time in the kitchen would see through it in a heartbeat, though Addy had the sneaking suspicion that the men chasing them the night before would be clueless. In a way, it was sort of genius.
“Give it a few minutes,” he murmured and took the phone from her hands the second the email was sent. “She’ll need to find an untraceable line to call from. A pay phone or something.”
Addy stared, still holding out doubt that this was all an elaborate dream and any moment she’d wake up. Her mind was blank as he glibly popped the backing off the phone and removed the battery. Before she could protest, he cut in, “I’ll give it back, don’t worry. Better than the alternative—me washing the whole phone down the toilet. As soon as you put the battery back in, all the important information will still be there. But if it’s dead, it can’t be traced.”
She swallowed.
Who thinks of these things?
Career criminals.
That’s who.
And a few minutes later, when the phone in their motel room rang, slicing through the silence, Addy had her answer. Jo was part of this. Now, for better or worse, she was too.
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