Revenge With Benefits (Sweet Tea And Scandal 3)

“I give to charity all the time,” Ryan pointed out. “This is no different.”

Except that this cause was acutely personal to him.

“And,” he added, “we still don’t know if she’s at all connected to Abernathy.”

“Do you want me to keep digging?”

“Thanks for the offer, but I think you’ve spent more than enough time indulging my paranoia.”

Ryan hung up and considered what he’d just learned. Although the news brought back the demons of distrust, he realized that even though he still had questions about her motivations, his suspicions, potent though they might be, weren’t enough to stop him from wanting her.

A voice in his head reminded him that he’d known Zoe for little more than a week, but a drumbeat of lust and longing held more sway. He felt a connection with her that outstripped anything he’d ever experienced before. He simply couldn’t let her go until she’d worked her way out of his system. Whatever that took.

Six

For the last week, Zoe had been staying in Ryan’s guest apartment. Each morning that she woke up in the king-size bed and shuffled into the open-concept kitchen, dining and living space with its high ceilings

and heart-pine floors, the hardships of the last year faded a little more. And it wasn’t just her new environment having a positive effect on her psyche, but also the amount of time she’d been spending with her handsome landlord that lent her optimism a gigantic boost.

The night after she’d moved in, he’d appeared at her door at six.

“Hungry?” he’d asked.

She’d gone out earlier and stocked her refrigerator, but hadn’t decided on what to make for dinner. “I guess.”

“I’m about to throw something on the barbecue,” he said, not seeming at all put off by her ambivalence. “And I hate eating alone.”

“Me, too.”

Though she’d gotten used to it, being married to Tristan. He often worked late. Or at least that was the excuse he’d given on the nights he’d come home late smelling of perfume and red wine.

“I’ll throw together a salad and come over.”

That dinner became the first of many. Every night Ryan would stop by her door with an invite, sometimes still dressed in his tailored suits, other times in jeans and a T-shirt. Every night she said yes because being with him was so much fun. With Ryan she laughed and argued and felt utterly normal.

He possessed exactly what she needed to make the world go away. Or at least to enable her to forget all about it for a while. His smile kindled a glow in her chest. The glancing contact with his body as they worked side by side left her giddy and breathless. His fingers tantalized her skin as he caressed her cheek or held her hand. And when his lips closed over hers at the end of the evening, stealing her sighs and setting her blood on fire, she couldn’t imagine being happier.

Tonight’s dinner was different from the last few. Instead of fixing a meal together in Ryan’s big, white kitchen, he was taking her on a double date with Susannah and Jefferson. Everything in her rebelled against getting in deeper with the Dailey siblings because the more time she spent with them, the harder it would be to do them harm. And she was starting to wonder if there was anything to dig up concerning Susannah or her campaign.

What if it was impossible to come up with something? That sure wouldn’t make Everly happy and her erratic behavior the night Ryan had come by the store left Zoe convinced the woman might do something disastrous.

Pushing aside the problem of Everly’s unwanted intervention for the moment, Zoe turned her attention to another bit of trouble. She picked up the envelope that had arrived in the mail today. For weeks now she’d been expecting something from the property management company telling her that she had to vacate. She was three months behind on the rent and it was only a matter of time before they kicked her out.

With a heavy sigh, Zoe slit open the envelope and pulled out the invoice from Dillworth Properties. She smoothed the sheet of paper and braced herself for the total at the bottom.

The number was zero.

How was that possible? She owed fifteen thousand dollars.

Zoe pulled out her phone and dialed the number of the management company. When the receptionist answered, she asked to speak to Tom Gossett.

“Tom, it’s Zoe Alston,” she began, her voice vibrating with anxiety. “I just received my monthly invoice and it looks like there’s been a mistake.”

“Oh?” Tom was in his midfifties and had a calm, methodical way about him. “How so?”

“It shows that I don’t owe you any money when I’m sure that I’m three months behind.”

“Well,” he said, chuckling. “I’m pretty sure I’ve never had a tenant call to complain that they didn’t owe us any money.”