“I know you do,” she replies, and it occurs to me that she’s put a lot of trust in me in a truly short amount of time. She’s either a really good judge of character or she knows she’s got nothing left to lose. “Also… if you have contacts with the FBI as I suspect you do, they have the means to track this type of thing to an exact location. Of course, it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s going to be where this guy is living or anything. But if you have a favor owed there, I’d collect on it.”
“When we hang up, tell Rachel to call Ted Griss,” I reply because it just so happens, I do. “He owes me a couple of favors, and she’ll get him working on this.”
“One more thing.” Her tone is hesitant, almost as if she had to work up the guts to tell me something. “I have an idea that might be able to lead us to him if he continues to send her stuff through the internet.”
“What’s that?”
“I was thinking… maybe I could lay a trap for him. Let him hack his way in for some information, then I can lay some code that will reverse track him.”
“But can’t he circumvent like you said before… with VPN or something?”
“Yes, but I’d plant a sort of virus that will attach itself to him, and well… so as not to get technical, it would be like leaving me a trail of bread crumbs to follow back to him, so to speak.”
“You can do that?” I ask.
“I don’t know. It’s really just theory.”
“What’s the risk? Downside?”
“He sees it,” she replies cautiously. “Reverse hacks me. Jameson. I mean, I don’t know his level of expertise, but it isn’t without risk. We could be poking a very smart bear.”
I consider this, not wanting to put Jameson at risk. While I have a lot of confidence in Bebe’s abilities, I’m not technical enough to know just how serious these risks are.
“I’m pretty sure I can hide my tracks,” she says. “But I can’t guarantee it.”
“Let me think about it.” It ultimately may be moot because if this guy is ready to make a move, it will probably be sooner rather than later. “Just do what you can right now with what we’ve discussed.”
“Got it. Later, boss,” she replies and disconnects. I like that about her. She doesn’t waste time.
I immediately flip through my contacts on my phone, then select Cruce Britton from the list.
It was eight days ago I interviewed him.
Seven days ago, he talked to a U.S. Senator and the director of the Defense Intelligence Agency, both of whom gave stellar references for me and my company. I also offered my mum’s phone number if he wanted to talk to her for a personal reference, but he declined.
Six days ago, he accepted my offer of employment. Of course, I wasn’t ready for him to start right away as I was dealing with this shitbag of a stalker, but I figured the signing bonus I gave him more than made up for the delay.
But now… I’m ready for him to start.
I tap on his contact, and he answers on the second ring by saying my first name. “Kynan.”
“I need you out here in Santa Barbara,” I say. I had filled him in briefly on Joslyn’s case when we last spoke, so it won’t take him long to get up to speed.
“I’ll book the next flight out,” he says.
“No. Head to the airport. I’ll charter a jet for you to leave tomorrow morning.”
“Weapons?” is his only question.
“Load up,” I reply and disconnect.
Tapping my phone against my chin, I take a moment to think if there’s anything else I need to do. Before Bebe got on the phone, I had spoken to Rachel briefly. She’s going to call the lead detective who was working the case to update him with everything that’s occurred, but I’m not counting on them to do much. Maybe increased patrols around Joslyn’s home, but there’s just not much they can do.
I’ve done all I can in this moment. Probably until we either get a break on identifying this sodden scum or he makes a move. Until then, the waiting game is the only one I can play.
I move to Joslyn’s room, the sound of the hissing shower leading me to her. I start removing my clothes in the hallway. By the time I hit the bathroom, I’m naked. I can see her through the opaque glass door to her shower, standing with her head bowed so the water can hit her between the shoulder blades.
She looks small and defeated, and my protective instincts kick in. It has nothing to do with the job I’ve been hired to perform, but it has everything to do with needing her safe and secure so I can keep her in my life.
When I pull the door open, she raises her head. Water streams down her face, catches in her lashes, and leaves droplets on her lips. She’s never looked more desirable to me, and I need nothing from her right now other than her trust that I will take care of everything.
I open my arms, and there’s no hesitation before her body moves into mine. Joslyn’s cheek goes to my chest, and we wrap our arms around each other. “I won’t let him near you, kitten. I promise you are safe, okay?”
She squeezes me. “I know. I trust you.”
“Bebe’s working on tracking him, but it’s a long shot. I’ve also asked Cruce to come out here as backup.”
She jolts and pulls her head back in question.
“I just want the backup, Jos,” I explain. “You’re too important, and I’m just not willing to leave anything up to chance.”
“Okay,” she replies with a nod. “I understand.”
“Do you? Understand?” I ask, not able to hide the urgency in my tone. “This is more than just a job to me.”
Her large blue eyes just blink as she stares.
“You are more than just a job to me,” I clarify.
I need her to know that. I need her to know there is no resentment left for what was done to us. I sure as fuck don’t know what the future holds, but I do know she holds some place in it.
Joslyn responds by winding her arms around my neck, then pulling my mouth down to hers. She kisses me sweetly at first, but then it turns sensual as her tongue slips in my mouth and her body melds into mine. I force every bit of worry, planning, and strategy out of my head, and I concentrate on this amazing woman in my arms.
The woman I once loved with all my heart—who I’m fairly certain I’ve fallen right back in love with. Thus, keeping her safe and taking this stalker down just became the most important thing I’ll ever do in my life because I’m ready to see what waits on the other side of that for Joslyn and me.
CHAPTER 22
Joslyn
It’s only a fifteen-minute drive from my house to the airport in Santa Barbara to pick up Cruce, but just getting out for even a bit is nice.
It’s not that we don’t go out because we do. We go out in splashy fashion to make sure I end up on as many TV and social media feeds as possible. All part of the plan to piss my stalker off.
But that type of event is exhausting. I have to go full hair, makeup, and designer clothing. Cameras are in our face, and it’s hard to just be ourselves.
This short trip to the airport, though, is exactly what I needed. I’ve got my hair in a ponytail and under a ball cap with nothing on my face except some mascara. I’m rocking a pair of faded jeans, a flowing, pale yellow bohemian blouse, and my flip-flops. Kynan is just as casual. Jeans and a t-shirt that fit very, very well. He’s also got a cap on his head, a pair of sunglasses, and just the right amount of stubble on his face. He’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever known in my life, and everything about him pushes my buttons.
“Nice smile you got going there,” Kynan says, and I hadn’t realized he’d even seen. He’s driving after all.
My teeth flash, grin getting broader. “This is such a free moment out of the house with no agenda. I’m feeling incredibly happy right now.”
“I like you being happy,” he replies, reaching over and taking my hand. He laces his fingers with mine, and we rest our arms on the center console. “I also think it’s good your mom is coming to visit. You could use some quality do
wntime with her.”
“Agreed,” I answer as I watch the scenery fly by. “I’m really looking forward to it.”
My mom has been in close contact with me since we left her house almost a full week ago. She’s incredibly worried about me and my stalker situation, but she’s also hell-bent on furthering amends by inviting herself and Darren for a visit.
It’s not necessary, though—her needing to make things right with me. I know she’s sorry for what she did, but I’m also not going to keep her at arm’s length either. I’ve been longing for my relationship with her to get back to what I remember before I became a celebrity.
The only thing I don’t like is Kynan feels it’s best if they stay at a hotel rather than the house. He said this was for security reasons, and I have to trust him. Kynan explained more people in the house meant he was accountable for more than just my safety. He personally wanted to focus everything on me, and I understand this. Moreover, once he told my mom and Darren, they totally understood. Instead, I booked them a room at the Four Seasons. We’ll spend quality time together, but she and Darren will stay there at night.
“This is a nice area,” Kynan remarks as he glances out my window at the Santa Ynez mountains to the west.
“It’s called the American Riviera.”
“Is that why there are so many red-tiled roofs?”
I laugh. “I think it’s more because our climate is more in tune with the Mediterranean. But I do love it here. I thought maybe I’d be safer moving away from the Los Angeles area, but apparently not. Still, the slower pace speaks to me at this point in my life.”
“What do you mean?”
I twist slightly in my seat toward him. His fingers tighten on mine, so our hold doesn’t break. “I was just getting to a point in my career I wanted to slow down.”
“You? Slow down?” he teases.
I toss my head back and laugh, because I am a little hard to hold down at times. But when it wanes and there’s only a slight chuckle left, I explain. “I’m just tired of it all. The pace. The work. The spotlight.”
“You’re too young to retire,” he points out. That’s totally true as I’d never be able to sit still, and he knows that about me.
“I know, even though I have enough money I’d never have to work another day in my life, I guess I just want to do something that fills my well, so to speak. I want to find my joy and passion again.”
“Singing and acting doesn’t make you happy?”
I give a mirthless laugh. “Of course it does. But it’s also such a lonely career. You never really have close friends, and someone is always trying to get something out of you. I mean… look at my mom. My career became more important to her than anything.”
“Fame has a way of fucking with people,” he replies sagely. “But not you… you stayed humble and genuine.”
“Regardless, I’ve sort of got a fresh perspective now, so I’ve been thinking about it a lot more.”
“Fresh perspective? A man breaking into your house and attacking you?”
“Well that,” I reply sardonically. “But also… reuniting with you.”
I get a squeeze to my hand, and a dimple pops in the corner of his cheek as he smiles. “If you could pick one thing to do for the rest of your life, what would it be?” Kynan ever wanting to boil down to simplicities. He’s amazing at focusing in on the important things.
“Song writing,” I reply with no hesitation. “That’s where I get the most joy—writing the songs and in the music.”
“I can see that,” he says with a slow nod. “I remember when you used to come off stage in Vegas and you’d just sag into Michel’s waiting arms as the adrenaline deserted you. While I know you were great at performing and you had some fun at it, I never felt the reward was enough to overcome the stress of it all.”
“And yet I’ve managed to make a career of it,” I point out.
“So make a new career,” he says. “Like you said, it’s not like you need the money. You should write songs and be happy.”
“But what if I miss performing? Or acting?” Because it’s never simple for me. I’d always wonder if I was making a mistake by walking away at the height of my career.
“I’m pretty sure there will be a spot waiting for you if you want to go back to it,” he replies dryly, making his point. I’m letting silly things hold me back. “If you changed your career path, what are some other things you’d want to do?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I hedge, staring out the passenger window.
“Don’t play coy, Joslyn Meyers,” Kynan reprimands. “You are a woman who always thinks ahead.”
I snort and then turn back. “The usual. Develop a hobby or two. Take time to smell the roses. A dog. Kids.”
Kynan’s eyebrows shoot up. “Kids? How many?”
I shrug. “One. Two. Definitely no more than two.”
Releasing my hand, Kynan scrubs his own over his short beard and gives me another quick glance before giving his attention back to the road. “You and I have been having unprotected sex. That’s not been very smart of us.”
“Tell me about it,” I say with a snort as I lean back into my seat, giving him a haughty sneer down my nose. “And you go to a sex club. What was I thinking?”
“Bollocks,” Kynan says a little sharply. “I would never put you at risk. I always used a condom. Always. You’re the only woman I’ve ever not used protection with.”
Laughing, I pat him on the arm. “I was just teasing you, Kynan. I know you wouldn’t put me at risk. And I’m assuming you know the same about me.”
“Yeah,” he says with a long sigh. “I know that. But you mentioned kids and that got me thinking that—”
“I’m on birth control,” I cut in. “I get the shot so it’s not something you have to worry about.”
“I’m not worried, Jos,” he says solemnly as we approach the private air terminal where Cruce is flying in. Kynan paid a private charter jet so he could bring weapons, which both scares and relieves me.
Up ahead, standing outside the terminal is the man I recognize as Cruce Britton. I had seen him when he came to interview with Kynan at the new Jameson headquarters, but we had not been introduced. He’s dressed in jeans and a pullover. He’s got a small suitcase on the ground along with an olive-green military-sized duffel I’m betting is chock-full of goodies.
As Kynan slows the vehicle, another thought occurs that has nothing to do with Cruce. “Why didn’t you use a condom with me?”
Not seeming fazed by my question, he brings the car to a smooth stop beside Cruce, who is on the passenger side. Kynan leans over the console, dipping down so he can see Cruce outside my window. Kynan holds up just one finger, indicating he needs just a moment.
Then he tilts until he’s face-to-face with me. “I didn’t wear a condom because I didn’t want a bloody thing between us.”
“Oh,” I say quietly, a little in awe that was the case since he was terribly angry with me then.
“And since then,” he goes on to say in a low, deep voice that does funny things to the area between my legs, “I’ve kept doing it because it feels too fucking good. It’s primal, Jos. I love coming inside of you. Call me a caveman or what have you, but I love marking the inside of you with me.”
My jaw drops, and I am at a complete loss for words. All I want in this moment is to pull him in the backseat with me and have him mark me right now.
This very moment.
Instead, he grins before plastering a hard, quick kiss to my mouth. What Cruce is thinking of this, I have no clue, but then Kynan is pressing the button to release the trunk and Cruce is there loading his duffel and suitcase.
Kynan leans back fully into his seat, merely glancing over his shoulder at Cruce as he slides into the backseat. “Thanks for coming, man.”
“My pleasure,” Cruce replies as he closes the door.
Kynan makes a quick introduction. “Cruce. Joslyn.”
I twist in my seat, Cruce leans f
orward, and we manage a quick handshake. I smile and say, “Welcome to Santa Barbara.”
“Know the area well,” he replies as he settles back and puts on his seatbelt. Kynan pulls away from the curb as Cruce continues. “I worked the L.A. investigative office when I first joined the Secret Service, but I spent a lot of downtime up this way.”
We chitchat some more, and I find Cruce to be affable and outgoing. He doesn’t have that overriding serious nature Kynan bears much of the time, but I can also tell if Cruce were to get serious about something, he’d be a force. Kynan had told me about who he really was… the man credited with saving then vice president’s—now president—life. Of course I knew that story, but I never would have connected his name to the incident.
It’s comforting knowing I’ve got him on our side until this thing is resolved.
Kynan eventually commandeers the conversation, turning to business. He gives Cruce the low down on my security system and what we’ve learned about the stalker—including his scary brilliant hacking abilities. The men start brainstorming, and I recline and just listen. My few minutes of a carefree day are over, and it’s back to reality.
CHAPTER 23
Kynan
Cruce and I walk the rear of Joslyn’s property, which has a thick border of laurel and scrub oak. It’s a good place for a creeper to hide and watch her house from a distance, so I check it often. I’ve also installed wireless cameras in a few of the trees, hidden on a secured network Bebe monitors with alarm measures to ensure they’re not hacked. So far, it doesn’t appear Joslyn’s stalker has tried to breach her property since he left the sunflowers, but I am expecting him to make a move any day. I’ve even thought about having Bebe let him into the system if he tries, to see if we can lure him into some complacency.
It’s hard to know what to do, though. Joslyn isn’t the first person I’ve protected from something such as this, but the stakes have never been so personally high. My frustration in not knowing who we’re dealing with is starting to take a toll. If this doesn’t end soon, there’s no telling what I’m doing to do to this bastard when we finally get him.
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