Sacked (The New York Nighthawks 1)
I ignored my brother and dropped my hand from my lips so Prentice could slide the ring onto my finger. “It’s only been a couple of weeks.”
“The amount of time doesn’t matter. Only how much I love you.”
“You love me?” I echoed softly, tears streaming down my cheeks.
“He’d damn well better,” Nixon muttered. “Or else I’d have to kick his ass, and we don’t have enough time for him to recover before our next game.”
Prentice ignored the peanut gallery and kept his focus on me. “How could I not? You’re perfect for me, baby.”
“I love you, too,” I admitted softly.
“Thank fuck.” Gripping my cheeks, he captured my mouth in a passionate kiss.
My brother mumbled, “Ahem, still in the room.”
“Thanks so much for ruining my proposal.” Prentice glared at Nixon over his shoulder. “Now you can get the fuck out so we can celebrate.”
Nixon made a gagging noise, and I giggled as he ran from the room as though his pants were on fire. “I guess you finally found the way to get him to leave us alone.”
“I’m sure he would’ve left eventually,” Prentice murmured, lifting the hem of my shirt. “He would have been crying about needing eye bleach if he saw even a fraction of the things I’m about to do to your sweet body.”
11
Prentice
“No one has been able to find out shit,” I complained to Axton a few days later. “My team can’t even seem to confirm which rag actually got the photos first.”
“I might know someone who can help. He’s hired me on occasion.”
“To do what?” I asked before I could think better of it.
“Things I’m uniquely qualified to do,” he responded vaguely.
“Which means…?” Now I was just being obnoxious because I was pissed as fuck over the situation with the paparazzi.
“You really want to know?” He left the question hanging in a heavy silence.
Finally, I sighed. “No. Who is this guy you think can help?”
“Jonah Carrington.”
I nearly spit out my coffee at the name. “How the hell do you know—you worked for—you know what? Never mind. I don’t want to know.” Jonah Carrington was a fucking genius. He started as a low-level hacker and worked his way up to owning a cyber security company worth several billion dollars. He wasn't someone you could just pick up the phone and call. You had to know someone—the right someone—and even then, there was no guarantee he’d be willing to help.
“He owes me a favor. Actually, he’ll probably put you in touch with his son, Tucker. He’s being groomed to take over one day, but they pretty much run the place together right now. Tucker is every bit as talented as his dad.”
“If you can get them to help, I’ll owe you.”
“There aren’t enough favors in the world for you to pay me back for this one, friend,” he drawled.
Which was his way of saying he considered us square.
“I’ll reach out. Keep your phone on you.”
“Will do. Thanks, Axton.”
After he hung up, I leaned back in my office chair, fiddling with my computer and brooding over our lack of success in hunting down this dirtbag. Less than five minutes later, my phone rang, and I glanced at the caller ID. Carrington International.
Damn. That had been fast.
“Prentice Wright,” I answered.
“Hey, Prentice, I’m Tucker Carrington. Axton said you’ve run into a little problem. How can I help?”
I told him about the whole situation with the photos, that someone had managed to get past my security and close enough to snap shots of Naomi and me in the hot tub. “We can’t even find a trail to follow.”
Tucker asked several questions, then gave me a list of information he wanted. I agreed to send it all right over, and he told me he’d get back to me in a couple of days, even if it was just for an update.
“Also,” he added, “let me know if anything else pops up. More photos, any stories in the media about you, or your fiancée, no matter how small. Anything else that could be even the slightest bit relevant.”
“Will do,” I vowed. Then I thanked him, and we hung up.
I turned my chair to stare out my window and impatiently tapped my fingers on the tabletop.
“What’s got you so agitated?” Naomi asked as she sauntered into the room.
Not wanting to worry her, I pasted a smile on my face and held out my hand, beckoning her toward me. “Nothing, baby. Come here.”
She sashayed over to me, her sexy hips swaying enticingly. When she was close enough, I snatched her hand and pulled her down onto my lap.
When I bent my head, she immediately raised her face to accept my kiss. Naomi had been staying here ever since the day I proposed. I wanted the comfort of knowing she was well protected, but mostly, it was because I wasn’t willing to be without her for another day. Falling asleep buried inside her, waking up to eat her for breakfast, coming home to her beautiful face and sweet kisses…if this was a dream, I never wanted to wake up.