Two Truths and a Marriage Read Online Nicole Snow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire Tags Authors: Nicole Snow Advertisement1

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The last thing I need is a snarling grizzly bear at home, but he shouldn’t have told me to back off.

Not when it’s my business. My baby. My everything.

He should know me better by now.

I take a moment imagining the fun scenarios where Dex apologizes, where we kiss and make up, where he tells me he wants to be with me.

I imagine reverting to the bliss we had before this drama.

I imagine a fake marriage that will never happen, and the bittersweetness of it coats my tongue in sour hope.

Eventually, a few delivery boys emerge from the loading doors carrying two bright pink Sugar Bowl boxes. But instead of a van, they load them into a sleek black SUV. It idles in the corner, so subtle that I almost miss it.

Where are they going? I have to know.

My heart leaps up my throat as I start the van.

My vehicle grumbles like a loud dragon, but no one turns to look as I follow the SUV out of the clubhouse and back toward the city.

Shit, shit, shit.

So maybe I’m not cut out for this spy chick stuff after all…

My heart pounds a headache into my skull.

My hands go slick against the steering wheel.

I open the window, just so I can feel the wind on my face, never mind the fact that the humidity after the rain makes the air feel like pea soup again today.

I can’t believe this is real life.

These guys are probably criminals.

Actually, screw probably.

If Forrest Haute was doing anything legit, he wouldn’t need my desserts to play hide and seek with mystery numbers.

Dexter’s right.

This is dangerous.

The realization skitters down my spine like marching spiders. I tighten my fingers on the steering wheel. If I get caught, there’ll be more than a potential lawsuit to deal with.

Like actual hell to pay.

My fingers cramp, wanting to lock up.

We head through downtown and wind toward a rougher area with worn abandoned buildings and barely functioning warehouses.

This place makes my old neighborhood look like paradise.

The shadows are alive at night here. Sirens are a lullaby.

My skin pricks with sweat.

At least no one gives me a second glance, though. I’m hanging a few cars back and the van blends in with the rest of this place in the winding traffic.

I blend in—for now—and there’s nothing sleek about me. Nothing expensive except the ring that’s no longer on my finger and stuffed away like a dirty secret.

The SUV pulls up on the side of the road next to a battered laundromat. It looks normal enough, with its sign lit and customers washing clothes inside. The industrial-sized washing machines and tumble dryers are visible through the window, going through their spin cycles.

There’s nothing suspicious about this place.

Still, Haute’s friends must be here for a reason.

I park a little ways down the road and check my map before firing off a text to Emmy, telling her I’m making a snap delivery to this address.

At least if I go missing, she’ll have my last known location.

“Stop it,” I mutter to myself, glancing in the rearview mirror. “You’re being ridiculous.”

Maybe so, but that doesn’t explain why my throat is so tight or why my chest feels like it’s about to explode. This is shady business and I’m right smack dab in the middle of it.

The men move slowly, gathering up a couple boxes and carrying them into the laundromat. When they reappear a few minutes later with their hands free, they climb back in the SUV and drive away without lingering.

I pretend I’m getting something off the passenger seat as they pass by, just in case they look through the window and see my face. It’s a struggle not to duck down in the seat.

I’ve never wanted to hide more in my life.

Dexter can think what he likes, but I’m not stupid. The van looks old and boring, and with my hair tied up and shades on, so am I.

Once the SUV disappears and my heart sinks back in my chest, I climb out and head for the laundromat door.

My skin tingles like I’m being watched. It’s like I’ve forgotten how normal people move.

I’m all jerky and wide-eyed, looking around too much.

Keep it together, Junie.

I cram my hands in my pockets and hunch my shoulders, taking up as little space as possible. Whenever anyone meets my gaze, I look down at the ground.

Don’t make eye contact.

Don’t attract attention.

Then I’m inside.

It’s about what you’d expect. A few of the machines whirr noisily, their big drums spinning and vibrating. An old lady waits by the window with a pile of reusable bags beside her. She doesn’t even notice me.

Right.

To them, I’m just another random face, coming in to collect my nonexistent laundry.

I angle my body so no one can see what I’m doing and pull out a disc from my pocket. The only one Dexter missed.


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