ONE

       I’ve missed you. When you visit the one you love, you’ll see how much I love you, too.

      Cosette LaCroix’s hands trembled and she dropped the card with the typed note inside on the café table. It had been three years and she’d finally stopped looking over her shoulder, waiting for Jeffrey Levitts—her former boyfriend and boss in Washington, DC—to appear. But he’d found her. And she knew exactly what this note meant. She darted a glance out the large café windows and searched the sidewalks. Was he out there lurking? She shivered, suddenly feeling watched.

      “Hey!” Wilder Flynn’s husky, deep voice boomed.

      Cosette startled and fumbled to shove the card inside the envelope and appear calm. Collected. Her present boss couldn’t know about Jeffrey—that she’d been in a relationship with a narcissistic monster. Her job was to spot these people. To help other women escape them. Not fall into the same trap. Not to mention Wilder didn’t know she’d taken the job at Covenant Crisis Management three years ago to escape Jeffrey. Who better to find safety with than a security specialist? She was supposed to be one herself!

      Clearing her throat, she masked the sheer terror sending her heart into arrhythmia. “What?” she barked and balled her fist in her lap to conceal the tremors.

      He cocked his head, studied her and frowned. “Amy said you took the last of the cascara syrup. I was set on a cascara latte. It’s been a rough morning.”

      “Couldn’t find any matching socks?” Cosette smirked, but inside she was drowning. She peeked out the window again, watching downtown Atlanta in action and hoping Jeffrey wasn’t out there. “Tell Aurora to order more syrup.” Aurora Marsh had opened Sufficient Grounds 2.0 a year ago, after her first coffee café had burned down, when she’d lived in Hope, Tennessee. Cosette loved the atmosphere here. Wilder loved the free coffee and free use of the conference center to meet with clients and colleagues on occasion, which must be why he was here.

      “Matching socks have nothing to do with it. I’m trying to figure out what to do with the apartment upstairs now that you’ve moved out—which I still think is ridiculous.” He pouted like a child, not a six-foot-three former Navy SEAL who ran a world renowned private security company. Wilder collapsed in the chair across from her, his ebony hair falling over his eyebrows. He didn’t keep a military cut like most soldiers. Probably because one of his best features was his thick, luxurious locks. It was shaggy, but not like a kid who needed a haircut. More like a hair model. She’d love to run her hands—

      “Stop staring at my hair and focus.” Teasing played in his voice.

      “I’m not staring.” But taking her mind off what was lying on the table helped bring calm to her jittery insides. Nothing helped the feeling that malicious eyes might right now be spying on her, though.

      He gave her a pointed look. Okay, she was staring. Wilder was a sight to behold, but she’d given up on men for good after Jeffrey. Men in her life abused and manipulated, all the way back to her father, who was rotting in a New Orleans prison this very moment. Right where he belonged. The thought brought her back to the card, and her stomach knotted.

      “What’s going on with you?” Wilder asked, his usual charm replaced with concern. Great. She thought she’d done a better job hiding it.

      “Nothing,” she managed.

      “Look at me.” Wilder waited and she inhaled, then slowly shifted her gaze to his emerald greens canopied by dark lashes. He peered into her eyes until she squirmed in her seat. It felt like a year passed with him just staring at her, searching for truth, assessing. “You’re lying to me,” he murmured.

      She didn’t want to. “I’m not.” He was going to push until she squealed. That was his way, which wasn’t fair. Wilder was sealed tighter than his weapons’ cage at CCM. He would never take the hourly couch sessions she required from all team members. Never talked about his sister Meghan’s murder—and it had been several years since she’d been killed by a stalker. Cosette felt the blood drain from her face in a whoosh.

      “Yes, you are, Cosette. You’re looking me right in the eye and lying your face off.” His inhalation was sharp and he pushed back in his chair. “But I guess we’re all entitled to secrets. I just don’t like ones that bleach your face and make you fidgety and paranoid.”

      She didn’t like