“Seen what?” But as Brea watched, her eyes widened steadily. “Oh. Oh, my goodness. That’s the actress from Hot Southern Nights. And Cutter!” She pressed a shocked hand to her chest. “Obviously, he feels a great deal for her.”
Besides a raging hard-on? Yeah, seeing it again, One-Mile believed more than Bryant’s dick was involved.
It would probably end badly for the schmuck. If the famous actress moved on, she’d rip out Cutter’s heart in the process. One-Mile didn’t envy him that.
Yet despite falling for the blonde bombshell, Bryant had been willing to sacrifice himself and his future to protect Brea. As much as One-Mile hated admitting it, he respected the guy for that.
“The press is calling him her ‘mystery lover.’ They haven’t identified him yet?” Brea asked.
“So far, no. If they do, it will get ugly.”
“I’m sure. But if Shealyn West makes him happy, I hope they can work it out somehow. Cutter deserves happiness. Besides, he would be miserable in the chaste marriage we agreed to. I told him I was okay with him finding pleasure wherever and with whomever he could as long as he was discreet, but I could tell he didn’t like it. He’s the kind of man who will take his vows seriously.”
One-Mile respected that, too. But he had other questions. “What were you going to do for sex in this marriage?”
She looked at him with earnest eyes. “After you, I didn’t want anyone else.”
Damn it. This woman was perfect. He had to yank on his mental leash to resist kissing her. If he didn’t, he’d only end up inside her again. And he still had a whole lot of explaining to do.
“I don’t want anyone else, either. Just you. I want to live with you and raise our baby with you. But I’ve got to deal with Montilla so you two”—he slid a hand over her belly—“can be safe.”
“What do you mean ‘deal with’?”
“Kill him.”
Her eyes went soft and wide with terror. “No! You can’t.”
“I don’t have a choice. It’s my job. But I’m not going to lie; I’ll relish snuffing this son of a bitch. No one threatens what’s mine and lives.”
“Can’t someone else bring him to justice? The Mexican police, the DEA, the—”
“No.” He hated to burst her naive bubble, but justice had nothing to do with this now. It was personal. And it would be a fight to the death. “He threatened me. He’ll come after anyone I care about. That’s why, the morning I came home from St. Louis, I told you we needed to take a step back.”
He explained his run-in with Montilla in Valeria’s abandoned safe house. She listened quietly, shock and fear twisting her delicate features. He did his best to hold and soothe her.
“Oh, my goodness.”
“That’s an awfully nice way of putting how dangerous this asshole is. That morning I ‘walked away,’ I only meant to protect you. I thought you’d be safer in the dark, and I’m so fucking sorry I caused this mess. I hate like hell that I hurt you.”
“You had good intentions. We both kept secrets, hid things…” She cupped his cheek. “Let’s not do that anymore.”
He lifted her hand and kissed her palm. “From now on, I’m your open book, pretty girl. Anything you want to know, just ask.”
She hesitated, thoughts clearly whirling before she sighed. “We never talked about what you did to your father.”
“Oh, fuck.” He hadn’t given that shitbag two thoughts since the night he’d asked her to move in with him, but she clearly had. As close to her own dad as she was, his admission would definitely have rubbed her wrong. “It’s not what you think.”
“Was it self-defense?”
He’d love to say yes and see relief slide across her face, but he refused to lie. “No. It’s…complicated. But I did what I thought was right and I’d make the same choice again. I’ll explain right now if you really want me to, but I’ll be honest. I’d rather not waste tonight talking about someone so toxic. I’d rather make sure you’re as safe as you can be while I’m gone. But it’s your call.”
Brea hesitated, then shook her head. “What happened between you and your father is something we’ll have to address, but it’s not important until after Montilla. Nothing is, really.”
Yep. If there was an after.
“Exactly.” One-Mile loved that she understood what was really important. “I’m working on a plan. I need some intel. I have to devise a strategy. I should have more information in a couple of days. But my first priority is you. As much as I hate you even pretending to be engaged to Cutter, it’s a great cover. So unless he breaks things off, don’t end it. Anyone guesses about the baby? Let them think that’s his, too. It sucks, but if people believe you’re with him, Montilla won’t have any reason to suspect you’re mine.”
A little frown burrowed between her brows. “I hadn’t thought of that, but it makes sense.”
“So keep talking about the wedding, say you’re excited, put something on social media. Be as public as possible about your engagement to him.”
“All right. But if the paparazzi learns Cutter’s identity, won’t that cast negative attention on me?”
“Yeah.” And the backlash was likely to be brutal. Still, unless push came to shove, he didn’t want to worry her about that. “That’s not a bad thing, either. It will suck. The press is nothing but leeches. But Montilla operates in shadows. If he somehow manages to figure out your engagement to Cutter isn’t real, you’d have so much light on you he wouldn’t dare come after you.”
At least for a while, hopefully long enough for One-Mile to figure out how to end him.
Her expression told him she hated the idea. “I’m not used to being the center of attention. It makes me anxious. But you’re probably right.”
“You’ll be fine.”
“What do I tell Cutter about the engagement?”
“I’ll handle that.”
Brea looked
