Page 107 of Protecting Love

Just one of those things she didn’t want to pry out of Fletcher too soon.

She took him as the type of guy to talk when he was ready.

Kind of like their relationship and how long it took to get where they were.

And maybe that was weighing on her mind also.

That they could still be circling the wagons of attraction if he wasn’t “assigned” to her.

“That’s good,” London said. “It tells you a lot about a man, how he is with his kids.”

“I’m not evaluating him for marriage,” she muttered.

“Not yet,” London sang out.

She elbowed London just as the Uber slowed in front of their building. If anyone needed to be teased about marriage it was her sister who was headlong in love with Spencer.

But if she did that, it’d be like handing over a second can as her sister was still waving the opener around.

They hurried under the awning, London lifting her coat over her head to shield her hair.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said.

“And dry,” London countered, looking down. “My shoes too.”

They stepped into the lobby, shaking off the rain from their clothing.

“Ms. Westerly?” the concierge called. “There’s something here for you.”

Both of them turned.

The woman at the service desk held up an envelope.

The two of them walked over. They still weren’t sure which one was supposed to get it.

But deep down, her stomach swirled, twisted, and wanted to spin up her throat.

This wasn’t mailed. No postage on it. Only dropped off.

Her name written across the front in thick black marker.

She was pretty sure any color drained from her face in an instant.

She reached her hand forward and took the envelope that had been placed on the counter.

It wasn’t going to cut her.

Though it sure the hell felt like it.

“Was this delivered just now?”

“About twenty minutes ago,” the woman said. “A man dropped it off. He didn’t leave a name. They never do.”

Her chest tightened. Her throat almost choking her.

Stupid since it’d been weeks with nothing.

Since the rat in a box.