“Hi, I’m Elizabeth,” she said, sticking her hand out. She was absolutely stunning and I felt like I wasn’t even close to her in looks. I was glad she’s his sister. The entire family was gorgeous.
“Hello,” I shyly replied.
She snatched a piece of grilled chicken breast and popped it in her mouth.
“Hey, y’all. We made it,” exclaimed one of the other two that came in.
/> They were introduced as Kayla and Cassandra. Both were so bubbly and absolutely gushed over me. They seemed like twins, but Kayla was two years younger. All of a sudden I was surrounded by a whole group of women who were eating and talking at the same time. It wasn’t messy or even uncouth, but my mother would have lost her mind by the normalcy that I saw in front of me. This is what real families did for dinner. I loved the chaos and happiness. “I almost forgot,” Cassandra exclaimed. “Did he show you his screensaver on his phone?” Bryce actually blushed.
“No, he didn’t.” I gave him a questioning look.
“It’s nothing, princess, but I’ll show you.” He took out his phone and handed it to me. It was me at the hotel. A very close up picture of me smiling at someone just to the side of the camera. Immediately I handed him the phone, then in a need to express my happiness, I grasped the sides of his face and kissed him in front of everyone. The family all started to clap, effectively ending the kiss.
“So…the store opens at eight tomorrow. Are you going to meet us there? I’m sure Bryce isn’t letting you go on your own cause he’s just like our father,” Cassandra said.
“We’ll meet you there at eight, but I think you’ve all been too much excitement for Harper tonight. Excuse us, but we have a lot to discuss in private.”
“Discuss,” Elizabeth added in air quotation marks.
Bryce rolled his eyes before saying goodnight to everyone and walking me to the car. We drove down the quiet road, then I noticed a car I’d seen before. The town was small, but that seemed like too much of a coincidence.
Chapter 10
Bryce
I’d been driving for about three minutes on the main road and she hadn’t said a word. Her eyes were focused on the mirror; more like fixed on the car behind us. I looked out my mirror and the son of a bitch was fucking handsome. I was jealous as fuck. Was she looking at this guy as a way to start a fight? I suddenly felt like she wasn’t as invested. Maybe my family was too overbearing. “What’s going on? You’ve been quiet since we left. Is this all too much for you? Do you want me to stay at your place? I can always go to the hotel.”
“No, of course not. I want you to stay. It’s just a bit overwhelming. In a good way, of course, but overwhelming nonetheless.”
“Why do you keep looking out the side mirror?” I asked, my heart feeling completely insecure.
“It’s strange, but that car behind us…well…we passed him up on the road and then he followed behind. Like directly behind,” she emphasized.
If she was worried about it, I would take it seriously. As a man of my wealth, there were people out to cash in on kidnapping or robbing me, but I was always prepared. “It could be nothing, but I feel like there’s more.”
“It’s just, I’ve seen him in town before. Not that we’d ever spoken, but I felt like he was watching me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she muttered. I had a weird feeling about the car, too. It was time to play a game. The car was still about fifty yards away, so I braked hard, but not painfully. The car came close to almost hitting my tail but stopped just before. I spun the car to block the road, then grabbed my gun from my waistband. We kept them at the house for safety and I’d made sure to take one with us.
I pointed it at the fucker and demanded, “Get out of the car.”
“You’re making a big mistake,” he snarled.
My anger was rising by the second. “No, the fuck I’m not. Following my woman around will get you killed.”
“I’m a federal agent,” he shouted. “I’ve got my badge on my belt.”
“Proof, motherfucker,” I growled, my gun was cocked and pointed at this son of a bitch. He opened his jacket and just as he’d said, there it was. I lowered my gun, just enough, but didn’t put it away.
“What are you doing stalking my fiancée?” I asked, authoritatively tilting my chin.
“I’m not stalking Ms. Simmons. I’m watching over her,” he replied.
“And I’m supposed to take your word for it?”
“No, but here. Call the field office.” He took a card from his inside pocket then handed it to me. He was supposedly a FBI agent according to his card at least, but anyone can make a phony business card.