Dirty, Reckless Love (Boys of Jackson Harbor 3)

“Bauer,” Ellie says, and I freeze.

I know fuck-all about art, but I know that name.

“The Discovery collection,” Ellie says.

The hair on the back of my neck stands up. Why the hell is she looking for Bauer’s Discovery collection? Why now when the paintings have been missing for more than two years, and she hasn’t worked in a gallery in all that time?

“We never actually had the series here. It was only shown once in a gallery in Indiana.”

“You had some of Bauer’s work, though.” Ellie slides a folded bill across the desk. “I’m looking for any leads I can get on collectors. Maybe there’s something helpful in your computer? My investor is highly motivated, and if you give me a lead that helps me find the Discovery collection, there will be a commission in it for you.”

Brightening, the woman quickly pockets the cash before turning to her computer. She runs her red, manicured nail slowly down the screen. “I can’t promise anything,” she says, tapping on the keyboard. “We actually had a painting of the model—not officially part of the collection. More . . . tame than the others? Even so, good luck getting your hands on it now. I don’t think the owner is going to be interested in any offer.”

“Like I said, my investor is very enthusiastic,” Ellie says, and I have a feeling enthusiastic is code for rich. “It can’t hurt to ask.”

“It sold to Asher Logan,” the woman says.

I cough. Holy shit. “The Asher Logan? The rock star?”

Ellie and the saleswoman turn to stare at me. The woman nods. “Yes. The model in the painting is his wife. In addition to the painting he purchased here, I heard rumors that Asher bought the whole Discovery collection from the original exhibition.”

“I’m more interested in who might have bought and sold it since then,” Ellie says.

“You think Asher Logan sold provocative paintings of his wife?” I ask. “I don’t think so. Someone else must have bought and sold them.”

Ellie shrugs. “Maybe he’s proud of them. She’s gorgeous.” She folds her arms on the counter and leans toward the woman. “Surely you could point me to a dealer who has their finger on the pulse when it comes to rare Bauer pieces?”

The saleswoman shakes her head, as if trying to shake the memory to the surface. “There’s been some chatter, but I’m not sure this is a typical resale item.” She scribbles on the back of a business card. “Try this dealer. Sometimes he gets his hands on . . . otherwise unattainable pieces.”

Ellie beams at her and tucks the card into her purse. “I understand. Thank you so much.” She turns back to me and heads out of the gallery, once again sliding her arm through mine.

“Why do you need those paintings?” I ask.

“I heard they might be available, and I just want to track them down.” That fucking fake smile again. “I can think of any number of people who’d be interested in buying if they surfaced. It’s just smart business.”

“But your business is real estate.”

She shrugs. “Maybe I want to get back into art.”

“Don’t lie to me.” My jaw is hard. “I can handle that you have secrets, but I can’t deal with lies.”

She studies me for a long time before nodding, a series of emotions I can’t identify passing over her features in quick succession. “Can I trust you, Levi?”

“Completely.” The word is too big and sticks in my throat.

“I believe that, but my secrets . . .” She shakes her head slowly. “I think you might be too good to be saddled with my secrets.”

“We all have ugly mistakes in our past, Ellie. Every single one of us.”

“I’m looking for the paintings because I can’t risk them ending up in the wrong hands.”

“Is that why you asked Colton to steal them when they were at the gallery?”

Her eyes go wide. “He told you that?”

“I helped him.” I’ve never admitted that to a soul. Colton and I did a lot of stupid shit when we were younger, and we somehow made it out alive and without any serious convictions. I planned on taking our secrets to the grave, but this is Ellie, and right now, the truth seems so much more important than any risk to my reputation. I shrug. “You never reported it. I knew without him telling me that he was doing it to protect you from Nelson, but I didn’t understand why.” I wait a beat. “And I never thought you knew Colton was involved.”

“He stole them for me, but I didn’t ask him to. I told him about the paintings, and he did what he thought he needed to do to protect me.”