Framed Shadows: Shadows Landing #6, Kathleen Brooks [great novels of all time TXT] 📗

Paxton had to calm himself. He hadn’t known about the assault or the kidnapping. Just thinking about it made him sick to his stomach.

Ryker stared at him and then shoved himself up. “You’re not who I pictured for her, but she’s happy. She’s confident now. I noticed the change even if Ridge is pretending she’s still a little kid and burying his head in the sand.”

“Does that mean I have your approval to be with her?”

“Do you need it?” Ryker asked.

“No, but family is important to her. It’s important to me, too. It’s not easy to admit. You did a search on me. You know what the past years have been like for me. I care for her, Ryker. More than anything. I will do everything I can to make her happy, and having her family’s approval will make her happy.”

“I don’t don’t like you,” Ryker admitted.

Paxton chuckled. “I’ll take it.”

“That’s a good-looking man,” Paxton heard a woman whisper.

“Not my thing, but even I can appreciate a torso like that. There’s just something about the way his ab muscles seem cut from stone,” a second female voice said.

Paxton pretended to stretch in his sleep and then he was sitting up with a gun pointed at the early morning intruders. One was a tall woman with long, blonde hair pulled up in a high ponytail. She had on a form-fitting white cotton tank with a lightweight, short-sleeved blazer over it. Her lips were red, her dark-wash jeans were skin-tight, and her heels were high. The other woman was a petite brunette with stunning eyes and an impeccably fitted suit. Both women had bulges on their hips indicating they were armed. Neither seemed fazed at having a gun pointed at them.

“Darlin’, I’m everyone’s thing,” Paxton said with a slow Southern drawl.

“You’re my thing if I weren’t an unspecified number of years older than you or married,” the blonde said with a smile.

“She’s more my thing. Think your delicate male ego can handle that? Do you need a tissue?” the brunette asked.

“Who are you two and why are you in my bedroom?” Paxton asked, still not lowering his weapon.

“Ryker hired me to look after your probationary girlfriend. I’m Mallory Westin-Simpson. I own Westin Security in Atlanta. By the way, here’s a police contact for you.” She tossed him a business card, but he didn’t look to see where it landed.

“Probationary?” Paxton questioned.

“I hear you’re the one on probation until your ability to keep Tinsley safe has been determined,” the brunette answered. “I’m Blythe Kencroft of Creed Security. Walker sent me to keep an eye on Tinsley. I’ve met her at some Keeneston weddings. Walker told me I could castrate you if you stepped out of line or if you proved unworthy. Just one sec.” Blythe pulled out her phone and snapped a picture. “Marcy Davies should see this.”

“I sent your fingerprints to Ahmed while you were sleeping. I’ll know everything about you in the next ten seconds. Or less,” Mallory smirked as her phone pinged. “Ouch. I’m looking at your medical records from when you were shot.”

“Don’t worry, the scars are sexy,” Blythe said with a wink.

“Look at this, Blythe, he got a B- in high school chemistry. Let’s hope he has better chemistry with Tinsley,” Mallory said as she showed the phone to Blythe.

“Who the hell is Ahmed and how does he have access to this information?” Paxton demanded as he leaped from bed. The flash went off again on Blythe’s phone. “I’m starting to think I am your thing.”

“Nope. Totally not my thing. However, Marcy asked for it and if Miss Marcy asks for something, you get it or you don’t get any apple pie. I would kill someone for that pie.”

“Then you’ll have to try Miss Ruby and Miss Winnie’s apple pies,” Tinsley said from the doorway. “Blythe, what are you doing here? Is Veronica with you?”

Blythe, still ignoring the gun aimed at her, turned and hurried to hug Tinsley. “No Veronica on this trip. I’m here on business.”

“Business?” Tinsley asked, and then her whole face changed. It went from wondering, to realization, to unfettered delight. “You’re here to look after me?”

“We both are. Hi, I’m Mallory Westin-Simpson.”

Paxton lowered his gun as he was completely forgotten. As the women chatted, he grabbed his phone and headed for the shower. While the water heated up, he searched out the two women. They were exactly who they said they were, but Mallory was way more than just the owner of one of the region’s largest private security firms. Her father had been a senator and she’d married into the powerful, Atlanta-based Simpson family that ran a large international corporate conglomerate. The fact that Mallory was here and not one of her employees spoke volumes to what kind of relationship she had with Ryker.

“Paxton?” Tinsley called from the other side of the door. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” he called out from the shower. He saw the door open through the fogged glass.

“When do you leave?” she asked as she leaned against the granite counter in the bathroom.

“In twenty minutes.” Paxton turned off the shower, and when he opened the glass door he found Tinsley leaning against the counter with the towel in her hand.

“I thought you were going to come to my room last night,” Tinsley confessed as she handed him the towel.

“Ryker and I had a talk. Then I had to plan for Atlanta. I’m sorry. I wish I had more time with you. But the faster this case is solved, the faster I can come home to you,” Paxton told her as he wrapped the towel around his waist.

“You’d better come home to me. Don’t do anything stupid like getting yourself shot.” Tinsley reached out and pressed her hand over the cluster of scars on his chest.

“I won’t. As much as it kills me, I’m going to be the one in the van. We can’t risk anyone recognizing me. Tinsley, call me immediately if anything happens or if