My mind races with this possibility. “But why bring us together? To try to scare me away?”
“Maybe the same person who brought us together didn’t send you that text.”
“Who would want us together?” I ask.
“And who would want us apart?” he counters.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Who would want us together?
Who would want us apart?
Kace and I are still in his vault with those questions hanging in the air when the doorbell rings.
“I don’t want that song given to Walker Security. I trust them, but I gave your father my word that I would show it to no one. I don’t know why that mattered to him the way it did, but it did. You are the only person I have ever shown it to.”
I offer it back to him and close my hands over his. “I believe you were supposed to show it to me just as much as I believe I’m supposed to give it back to you.”
He studies me for a long few beats, an emotion I cannot name in his stare. “The drawer is unlocked and the song is labeled as ‘daisy.’”
It’s an obvious invitation for me to go into the files and pull that song out anytime I wish, but he doesn’t wait for my reply. He walks to the drawer, offering me his back in the process, his spine remaining stiff, his shoulders as knotted as they were when I’d found him in here.
The doorbell rings again.
Kace rotates, and in an out of character outward sign of frustration, scrubs his jaw. “I guess Savage isn’t answering the door. Let’s talk to Walker and get them out of here.” He heads for the door, but not without catching my hand and taking me with him.
I’m becoming accustomed to just how together we are, and it’s both wonderful and scary at the same time. Sometimes two people come together, but they are really only boats passing in a sea of possibilities, and they become nothing but a whispered wind, soon forgotten. I’m way beyond Kace ever being a whispered wind. If we part ways, I already know that my sails, and my heart, will be shredded.
Somehow he snuck inside me, settled in, and made me fall in love with him.
Once we’re downstairs, we find Blake, and only Blake, waiting on us. “I sent Savage and Adrian downstairs,” he says. “Sometimes too many voices drown out the ones I need to hear, which is yours. And I know you, Kace. You are not a ‘many is better’ kind of guy.”
It’s a statement that tells me that he and Blake have communicated one-on-one, and not just in passing. Blake seems to read my mind and he glances over at me. “I hitched a ride to Europe with him a few years back when I needed a cover story his events provided and learned a lot about him in the process.”
“And clearly you really did,” Kace says. “You alone is a good call today.”
Fifteen minutes later, we’re in the living room, with Blake and I perched on chairs with a coffee table between us. Kace is standing in front of the window with the Hudson River at his back and so far, we’ve told Blake everything about the note, the song, my father calling Kace the one true daisy.
“Let me get this straight,” Blake says, leaning forward, elbows on his jean-clad knees. “You think Sofia’s letter was a setup by her or someone else to bring Aria to you?”
Kace’s hands settle on his waist. “I do. That’s what my gut is telling me.”
Blake glances at me. “What do you think?”
“Gio would know I’d check his office. He’d know I’d find that letter and if he wanted me to know about Sofia, he would have told me about Sofia. Therefore, there are only two options, at least in my mind. As I’ve said in the past, at least to Kace if not you, it reads to me like he left suddenly, without expecting to leave. Or now with this new information, perhaps the letter was planted. The question is why? Why would anyone push me into Kace’s path?”
Blake eyes Kace and arches a brow in a silent question.
“I don’t know,” Kace replies, “but that text she got reads more like someone trying to get her away from me.”
“So someone pushed her to you, and someone wants to pull her away,” Blake says, seeming to think out loud. His lips press together. “Hmmm. Unless it’s the same person with an agenda we don’t understand, but I don’t think so. I buy into the two different someones more than I do the latter.” He looks between us. “Let’s backtrack. Let’s start with what we know.”
Kace sits down next to me on the chair. “Obviously, it’s someone who knows I spent that time with her father.”
“And someone who knows he called you the one true daisy,” I add.