Alexa stood in front of her parents’ house trying to see it through Zack’s eyes. The sun was just beginning to set, casting the entire courtyard—with its wrought-iron gates, cobblestone drive, tinkling fountain, and soaring cypress trees—in a purplish-pink glow. The fountain burbled quietly behind them as they stood in the shelter of the portico, massive stone columns on either side of them.
The house spread out before them, wings to the east and west. The property sat nestled against the base of Franklin Canyon, and they were surrounded by rising greenery. None of the neighboring houses were visible. It was opulent and isolated and beautiful and cold. She couldn’t imagine what Zack saw. It was like looking in the mirror and not really understanding what others saw because your face was simply yours, something you saw and wore every day. It just was.
She listened to the elegant peal of the doorbell’s chimes echo through the house, and she blew out a breath, forcing herself to relax. Zack threaded his fingers through hers and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
“We’ve got this,” he said quietly, and squeezed again. She bit her lip and nodded, steeling herself for the performance ahead, reminding herself who her father actually was and what he’d done to her two best friends. She wouldn’t let him hurt anyone anymore.
Including her.
The heavy wood door opened, and one of the household staff, an older man named Joe, ushered them inside, giving Alexa an affectionate pat on the shoulder. “They’re waiting for you in the drawing room,” he said, nodding politely as he began leading them down the main hallway. Their footsteps echoed off the polished stone floor, matching the tempo of Alexa’s pulse pounding in her ears. Instead of his usual jeans and T-shirt—or those sweatpants she was really starting to love—Zack had opted for a light-blue button-down shirt that brought out the olive tones in his skin and emphasized his broad, fit frame, and a pair of black dress pants. Alexa had chosen a simple sleeveless red cotton maxi-dress, wanting to be comfortable.
Her heart pounded in her chest as Joe led them into the drawing room and both her parents rose to their feet. As per usual, jazz floated through the air from concealed speakers, and her mother held a glass of wine while her father held a tumbler of scotch. The drawing room’s ceiling was high, with part of the open second-floor hallway of the east wing looking down onto the room. The stone floor was covered in an expensive Oriental rug, which was bordered by heavy, overstuffed cream-colored furniture. A massive fireplace dominated the far wall, opposite the French doors that led to the backyard’s terrace. Despite the golds and creams in the room and the fire crackling quietly in the fireplace, there was no warmth. At least not for Alexa. And once again she knew she was cataloguing her surroundings as a way to keep the anxiety at bay.
She met her father’s eyes and smiled, pushing everything else aside and letting herself slip into familiar behaviors. “Mom, Dad, thanks for inviting us. This is my boyfriend Zack.”
Zack smiled winningly and held out his hand, which her father shook while eyeing him, a completely unreadable expression on his face. Zack nodded politely at her mother, who was appraising Zack hungrily, her eyes roving up and down his body. Alexa carefully schooled her features to hide her disgust.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” said Zack, smiling warmly at her parents. He slipped an arm around Alexa’s waist and pulled her a bit closer, glancing around the room. “You have a beautiful home.” He glanced down at her and winked, the hand at her hip giving her a slight squeeze. “And a beautiful daughter.”
“I like beautiful things,” said her father, sinking back into his chair and propping his ankle up on his knee. Her mother sat down on the couch, her attention flitting between Zack and her phone. Alexa led Zack to the love seat facing the couch and armchair, sitting much closer to him than she normally would’ve allowed herself to. Damn, but he smelled good. Like clean laundry and soap and a hint of aftershave. She kicked her sandals off and tucked her feet up under her on the love seat, making herself at home, just as she would’ve before. Zack laid an arm across her shoulders and nestled her against him, and her entire body heated. God, that felt good. He was so big, so warm, so solid.
“Something to drink?” asked Joe, smiling politely at them. Alexa didn’t want to drink tonight, but she also knew it might raise questions if she didn’t.
“I’ll have a glass of white wine, please, Joe. Zack?”
“I’d love a beer, if you’ve got one.”
Joe tipped his head and disappeared around the corner.
“Not a very fancy drink for a bartender,” said her father, peering down into his drink as though it held the answers to the mysteries of the universe. Alexa wasn’t surprised that her father had managed to find the fake information they’d planted about Zack. Clay had created a fake online presence for him, including a Facebook page and an Instagram account.
What would pre-shit-storm Alexa have said? “I don’t recall telling you that Zack’s a bartender.”
“I Googled him,” said her mother, not looking up from her phone.
Alexa gave an impatient snort and then smiled sweetly. “I don’t recall telling you his last name either.” At that her mother looked up from her phone with a slightly guilty expression on her face.
Her father shrugged. “You told me you had a boyfriend; I got curious. So sue me.” He tilted his head and gave Zack a scrutinizing look. Joe returned with their drinks, and as Alexa took a sip of her wine, her father wagged his finger at Zack. “You look very familiar to me. I’m wondering if we’ve crossed paths before.”
Zack took a sip of his beer and smiled, meeting her father’s gaze, not missing a beat. “I’m positive I’d remember meeting you, Mr. Fairfax.”
Her father stared at Zack for a second and then nodded, a small smile on his face. “Mmm. Yes. I’d say you would.”
“Alexa, why didn’t you mention him the other night?”
She shrugged. “It’s still really new, Mom. To be honest, I was trying to avoid…well, this,” she said, raising one palm in front of her. “I knew you’d want to meet him, and you guys are intimidating.”
Her mother gave a high-pitched, birdlike laugh. “Oh, we are not.”
Zack set his beer on the coffee table beside him and leaned forward slightly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Respectfully, Mrs. Fairfax, I disagree. I grew up in Thousand Oaks. My mom’s a high school science teacher. My dad’s a dentist. This,” he said, gesturing around them, “is pretty intimidating.”
Alexa smiled, glancing down at her wine. He was so charming, this pretend boyfriend of hers.
Her mother laughed, more naturally this time. “Point taken.”
“So how did you come to be dating my daughter, Zack…Sorry, what was your last name again?” asked her father, his voice low and calm.
Zack eased back against the love seat and once again tucked Alexa against him. “Caruso. We both volunteer at the Children’s Hospital.”
“Oh. Well, that’s nice,” said her mother, sounding slightly bored. “So you just met there, and he asked you out?”
“Pretty much,” said Alexa, shrugging.
Zack smiled and pulled her a bit tighter against him. “The first time I saw Alexa was almost a year ago. I walked into the room, and she was sitting there, talking to someone else. I felt like everything around me had stopped. All I could see was her.”
Something hitched in Alexa’s chest, and she had to remind herself that he was making this up. That it wasn’t real, no matter how badly she wanted it to be.
“She just had this light about her. I was hooked, almost immediately.”
Her mother leaned forward in her seat, suddenly much more interested in the story. “But you said that was a year ago. What happened?”
Zack gave his head a rueful shake. “I chickened out. Alexa and I became friends, and I dated someone else. She dated too.”
“But this entire time, you carried a torch for her?” asked her mother.
Zack nodded and glanced over at Alexa, his eyes holding hers. “Yeah. The entire time.”
“So then what happened?” asked her mother as her father sighed. It was apparently his turn to be bored with the conversation.
Zack swallowed, hesitating ever so slightly, so Alexa jumped in and began recounting one of the countless situations she’d fantasized about. “I was having a shitty day, and he’d always said that I should stop by his bar for a drink. Didn’t matter that it was late, that it was raining, I decided to take him up on his offer. I think a part of me just wanted to see him, you know? I showed up, and we hung out and…just being with him made me feel better. We laughed and talked until like two in the morning, when his shift was over. I even stayed after the bar closed, and there’s this really cool old jukebox. He put on some music, and we danced. It was like after knowing each other for a year, we were finally right where we were supposed to be.” She looked up at Zack, whose eyes had darkened. “I knew he was for me.” His hand dipped a bit lower on her hip. “After that, I knew we had something. It was just so easy being with him.”
Her mother’s eyes took another walk down Zack’s body. “Hmm. I bet. Do you remember the song?”
Zack answered. “It was ‘Cry to Me’ by Solomon Burke.” He glanced at her again, and something passed between them in that moment, but she wasn’t entirely sure what. Maybe it was just the closeness that came with being complicit in a series of lies together. Although they had danced to that song, at Sierra and Sean’s engagement party. It was the first time she’d ever felt his arms around her, and she’d replayed that moment countless times because it had felt so good. So right.
Joe stepped into the room and nodded. “Dinner is served. If you’ll follow me.” They all rose from their seats, and as Alexa hastily slipped her feet back into her sandals, she shivered slightly, missing the warmth of Zack’s body against hers. She sat up, and her eyes fluttered closed as Zack pressed a kiss to her temple. She felt that touch of his lips spread through her, and she smiled. Her parents followed Joe out of the room, and she stood, feeling a little light-headed, despite the fact that she’d had only a few sips of wine.
“That was a good story,” she whispered, slipping her hand into his, loving how good his skin felt against hers. How natural her small hand felt tucked into his much larger one.
His jaw tightened, and then he smiled at her, a sadness pulling at his eyes. “Who said it was a story?”
* * *
Zack sipped his beer and hooked his ankle around Alexa’s under the table, pulling her leg against his. Not because anyone could see, but because he could and because he wanted to. The lies they’d told pounded through him, and he found himself wishing that they weren’t lies. To hold her close as they danced, to tell her the truth of who she was to him…Yes. He couldn’t deny that he wanted all of that.
And what he’d said, about the first time he’d seen her…Yeah. That hadn’t been a lie at all.
The truth sank into him like an anchor taking hold: he’d been at least halfway in love with Alexa for the better part of a year. It was a truth that made him feel inspiringly alive and despairingly lost at the same time, because fuck if he knew what to do with it. If there was even anything he could do with it.
Alexa tossed her napkin onto the table, and he noticed she’d barely eaten half of the salad, steak, grilled shrimp, and sweet potatoes they’d been served. Although he was slightly worried about making weight for his fight—he had to weigh in at 205 pounds—he’d devoured everything on his plate.
“I’d like to give Zack a tour of the house. Is that okay?” she asked, her gaze bouncing between her parents. Her mother had been friendly and chatty during dinner, her father much quieter. More than once Zack had felt the weight of his gaze on him and had ignored it. He had no idea if it was because he had the audacity to (pretend to) date Fairfax’s daughter or if there was more to it than that. He wished he knew. What did Fairfax know? Why had they been followed yesterday by someone with ties to the Brotherhood?
Her mother smiled. “Sure. Have a tour, and then we’ll have dessert in about fifteen minutes. Helen made crème brûlée.”
Given the amount of food still on Melanie Fairfax’s plate, Zack had a feeling she wouldn’t be eating the crème brûlée. While Alexa resembled her mother in terms of her features—same blue-gray eyes, same nose, same mouth—her body type was completely different. Alexa was petite but curvy, and felt damn good against him. He had the sudden urge to feed her, to cook for her, to watch her enjoy something he’d made. He knew he made a mean lasagna—his nonna’s recipe—and for some reason the idea of Alexa eating something he’d made for her turned him on. A lot.
Alexa stood and extended her hand to him. “C’mon, babe. I’ll give you the tour.” He rose and took her hand, loving how fucking perfect her small hand felt nestled in his.
She led him back toward the hallway and then silently began leading him up the stairs. The staircase was impressive, swooping off into two wings about halfway up. The high ceiling arched gracefully above them. The bugs were stashed safely in Zack’s pocket—Alexa had been worried that her purse might be searched at some point if she left it out of sight. And given that it was her parents’ home, it would’ve looked strange if she’d kept her purse clutched to her side all night when normally she just left it in the front hall.
“Library first?” she asked quietly when they were almost at the first landing, and he nodded. She tugged him toward the right. “It’s in the east wing, and it’s where he spends a lot of his time.” They climbed the stairs in sync, her hand still in his. “He takes calls in there, has meetings. We can start there and work our way back toward his office and bedroom.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He traced his thumb over the back of her hand. “You’re doing amazing, by the way. I’m really proud of you.”
She flushed, and he smiled, loving that his small bit of praise had made her blush. “This way.” She led him down a hallway and pushed open a door, then pulled him inside and closed it behind them.
The room was quiet and empty but still fairly bright thanks to the light from the setting sun. He quickly scanned the room, taking in the large windows, the floor-to-ceiling bookcases, the heavy, dark furniture. A desk dominated the space in front of the windows, and Alexa crouched down in front of it. She wiped her hands on the skirt of her dress, and he noticed that they were shaking.
Needing to comfort her like he needed to breathe, he crouched down in front of her and took her hands in his. They were cold, and her palms were damp. “You can do this. I know you can. I’m here with you, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise, princess.”
She closed her eyes for a second and then nodded. “Morales said to place the devices in central locations and not too close to anything that would interfere with the sound quality.”
He pulled a small sealed plastic bag out of his pocket. It contained several flat black squares, no bigger than postage stamps. They were sound activated, meaning they’d turn on only when someone spoke, giving them a much longer life than the average listening device.
Her hands no longer shaking, Alexa opened the bag and pulled a SIM card and listening device from it. She inserted the SIM card into the listening device and programmed in the appropriate code, just as Morales had showed her. Pride surged through Zack, not only at her bravery and strength in the face of everything going on, but also at her proficiency with everything—their ruse, the self-defense techniques he’d shown her, high-tech surveillance equipment. She was damn capable, and it was extremely attractive.
She pulled out her phone and texted the code she’d used to Morales. Now anytime the device was activated, the audio would feed directly to Morales’s phone, thanks to the SIM card. Zack paced the room, eyes snapping back and forth between Alexa and the door as she peeled off the backing on the device and crawled under the desk to affix it.
Zack stood near the door, listening for any signs of activity, and Alexa appeared at his elbow. “One down, two to go.” With a quick twist of the knob, she opened the door and led him down the hallway, into her parents’ bedroom. Quickly, she set up another listening device, stashing this one on the inside panel of her father’s nightstand. The entire hallway was deserted, the wing silent as she led him to their last stop, her father’s office.
Morales had wanted to plant more bugs throughout the house, in places like the kitchen and living area, but it was simply too risky. At least these Alexa could plant and activate undetected. Placing the devices in higher-traffic areas would have been much harder. Morales would have to make do with what she was able to gather from these bugs.
Zack followed Alexa into the room, his heart kicking against his ribs. They’d already been gone longer than fifteen minutes, and he was anxious to get this part of the evening over with. He hadn’t said anything because he didn’t want to rush her—she was tense enough without him getting on her about the time.
Just as she had in the library, she activated the device and crawled under the desk to stick it on. Zack stood near the door, listening intently. An electric current worked its way down his spine when he heard a distinctive creak from somewhere down the hallway. In several long strides, he crossed the room to Alexa, who was just getting to her feet.
“Someone’s coming,” he said, his voice low.
Her eyes widened, and some of the blood drained from her face. The unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, approaching the office, and Zack did the only thing he could think of to keep Alexa safe.
He pulled her against him and kissed her.