The Mogul And The Muscle

If she’d been feeling confident, or letting her subtle rebellious streak out, she’d have been wearing something flashier on her feet. I’d already figured out that her shoes matched her mood.

I was also pretty sure I shouldn’t have kissed her after the hit and run.

It hadn’t been a real kiss. I hadn’t gone anywhere near her mouth. But I felt like I’d crossed a line with her and now she was making it abundantly clear where we stood. Keeping me at a distance so I wouldn’t get too close—wouldn’t get too familiar.

It fucking sucked.

So while she spent the week buried in her job, I spent the week sticking to mine.

Friday I accompanied her home. She said she’d see me Monday.

That sucked too.

Two days without her. I wasn’t sure how I’d let things get to this point, but the thought of having to wait until Monday to see her again made me feel like shit. Was this what I’d been reduced to? Pining for the company of my client—a woman who clearly had no interest in me beyond our professional relationship?

The air felt particularly heavy tonight and distant peals of thunder rumbled offshore. After seeing Cameron off, I stopped for takeout, then went home.

My food smelled good, but I set it aside while I did a quick Cameron check. Not that I needed to. I hadn’t been gone very long, and she never left Bluewater without me. But I did it anyway. It looked like she was next door, at her friend Luna’s house.

That was good. I liked that she wasn’t alone.

I settled in with my food and turned on my secret guilty pleasure, The Great British Baking Show. There was a simplicity to it that I liked. No drama or backstabbing. Just amateur bakers engaging in good-natured competition.

Maybe I liked it because the show had an air of normalcy to it. They were just ordinary people—talented people, certainly, but average citizens. They had regular jobs, regular homes, regular families. Even though it was a competition, there was a peacefulness to it that made it relaxing to watch.

Two episodes in—what an exciting life I led—my phone dinged with a text. I scrambled to check it in case it was Cameron, although I didn’t know why she’d text me on a Friday evening when she didn’t have anything on her schedule until Monday.

Derek: Found something new on the ex. Check your email.

Me: Thanks.

I opened Derek’s email. My eyes narrowed at his brief explanation. He’d sent an attachment with more details. It would be easier to read on my laptop, but right when I got up to get it out, my phone rang in my hand.

This time it was Cameron. My danger instinct went crazy.

“Yeah?”

“Jude? Someone was in my house.”

I was already grabbing my keys. “Where are you?”

“In my bedroom. They were in here, Jude. In my room.”

The fear in her voice made everything come into sharp focus. Lightning flashed outside and thunder cracked.

“Stay calm. Do you think they’re still in the house?”

“I don’t think so. I had dinner at Luna’s and when I came home, I felt weird. I can’t explain it. So I looked around, checked all the rooms. I didn’t see anyone. But then I came in here.”

“Where are Nicholas and Inda?”

“Out somewhere. Date night.”

“Did you call enclave security?”

“No, I called you first.”

A swell of emotion hit me in the chest. She’d called me first. “Okay, good. Call them. I’m on my way.”

“Okay. Hurry.”

I shoved on a pair of boots, grabbed my helmet, and rushed outside into the pouring rain. My bike engine roared to life and the tires screeched on the wet pavement as I gunned it out of there.

My shirt was soaked before I’d gone the first mile—my SUV would have been a better choice in the rain—but I didn’t give a shit. The bike was faster, and all that mattered was getting to Cameron.

I paused at the gate to the Bluewater enclave while security waved me through. Then I tore down the empty tree-lined road, crossed the bridge over the canal, and raced to her house.

I came as close to dumping my bike as I ever had when I skidded to a stop next to a Bluewater security vehicle. It was still pouring, the heavy rain making her entire driveway an enormous puddle. I pushed down the kickstand, pulled off my helmet, and Cameron’s front door flew open.