Kane (Arizona Vengeance 8)

I lean in toward her with a conspiratorial smile. “Keep dating him. It’s good to make Jim work for it.”

Ella laughs, then, surprisingly, she grabs me for a hug. “I like the way you think, Mollie.”

When we separate, I head down the porch steps. “Thanks again for watching Samson.”

“I’ll text you lots of pictures,” she assures me.

I wave as I walk back to Kane’s truck. I’m barely in the door before Kane starts the engine. I manage to get my seatbelt on as he backs out of the driveway.

“When are you going to tell me the details of your little stalker adventure last night?” I ask.

For the first time today, he smiles. I know he’s been weighed down with fear for my safety, as well as determined to focus on how to solve the issue. But now his eyes shine with mischief. “It was fun watching Jim act like a high school kid trying to win the popular girl’s attention.”

“I bet,” I reply with a smirk, looking out the passenger window at the houses we pass.

“And did he succeed?” Kane asks.

I shift in the seat to cock a brow at him. “Succeed in what?”

“Did Jim get Ella’s attention last night?

“I do believe he did,” I say with a grin. “This should be fun to watch play out.”

“Unless Jim fails, then it will be tragic.”

Reaching over, I play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Don’t be pessimistic. Love usually prevails.”

Reaching up, he takes my hand in his and pulls it over to rest on his thigh as we drive along. But I can tell by the look on his face and lack of response, he’s already left the conversation about Jim and Ella.

He’s thinking about Matthew and the plot to catch him.

When we got back to Kane’s place last night—me still in my pajamas since I’d been whisked away from a super fun evening with the girls—Kane and I had debated the merits of Kynan’s suggestion.

To my surprise, Kane was ultimately against doing it. He thought the risk was too significant if I put myself out there to meet with Matthew.

“What if he shows up with a gun? Just shoots you right there?” he’d demanded.

Before I could answer, he threw out another scenario. “Or what if he has a knife, grabs you, and he’s able to drag you off while we can’t do anything to help because he has a fucking knife at your throat?”

Admittedly, they were all valid concerns. The only reassurance I could give him was that Matthew was not a “gun” person. He wouldn’t even touch mine.

The knife thing, I wasn’t so sure about, but I reminded him that we’d have trained Jameson professionals on scene with guns at the ready.

We ended up calling Kynan, who had to explain the generalized plan to Kane, in detail, three times.

And still, he wasn’t convinced.

Ultimately, I had to make him understand it was my decision, not his, and I felt we should do it. I’d put my arms around his neck, snuggled in closer beside him on the couch, and said, “I want this over with, Kane. I don’t want it hanging over our heads. I want to live my life—our life—without constantly looking over my shoulder.”

He succumbed with a grumble, but he’d made me promise that if Matthew responded, we’d abandon the plan if he sounded crazy or unhinged.

The plan is simple. Kynan had sent us some suggested text of what to say in my email to Matthew. It was crafted with the help of a full-time psychologist he employs, and it supposedly has triggers in it that will hopefully make him feel safe in approaching me. We’re to send the email when we’re on the way to the airport to board the team plane for New York, which will be in just a few short hours.

With me being gone for almost four days, it’ll give Jameson time to get their team here and set up. If Matthew responds to my email, Kynan and his psychologist will help me craft my responses so we can lure Matthew in without raising his suspicion.

“You’ve got to get out of your head,” I say to Kane as we drive along.

He jolts, turning his head only briefly to glance at me. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you are all up in your head over this thing with Matthew. You can’t stop thinking about it. It’s making you irritable, which I don’t like, but, more importantly, it’s going to mess with your game if you don’t clear that shit out of there.”

Kane glances at me again, back to the road, then to me one more time. I finally get a genuine smile. He squeezes my hand. “I know you’re right. And I promise I’ll have my game head on when the time is right.”