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thinks something’s up because I won’t tell her everything and it’s completely obvious Patrick’s keeping my secrets. I just have to figure out if I should tell her or not.”
    “You’d break the law?” George asked, his mouth full.
    “I’m so past breaking the law at this point,” Stella answered, “I don’t think it really matters.” Telling Millie about Jamie was nothing compared to what she was planning.
    George just nodded in understanding, not wanting to push her.
    Dinner was fantastic. And quiet. The peace was amazing to both of them—it had been so long since they’d been able to go out in public for any sort of intimate anything. They talked about politics, movies and work. She loved to hear him talk about his work; his face positively lit up. Ever since he’d helped with the article on her, he was writing stories for the Associated Press on a regular basis. He did seem happier, but he was stretched thin with writing and managing Finnegan’s. Stella was a little worried that he was overdoing it.
    Stella sighed. God, it was glorious to sit and talk about normal shit for once. She cleared her throat. She hated to bring up this shit, but it was their life.
    “So, I talked to Agent Harris today. The protective detail is going to stay on the house for a while longer. They still haven’t located Jamie, but when they do they want me to wear a wire and get him to admit to what he did.”
    “Big surprise. Jesse and I haven’t been able to find him either.” George took a nonchalant sip of his Jameson and scowled at her scowl.
    “George!” she reprimanded, attempting another kick under the table. “I don’t want you getting deeper into this clusterfuck and getting hurt. We’ve talked about this.”
    Was that a whine? She didn’t whine.
    She had to admit that she knew George and Jesse were looking for Jamie, and had been since the Keys; maybe she just didn’t want to hear about their progress or lack thereof. The thought of George and Jesse going after Jamie made her more anxious than ever, almost as anxious as she was knowing that Jamie had been in their house, just waiting for her. Or Millie. Christ, what if he went after Millie? Patrick was looking for him too, and while she was worried about Patrick, it was a different type of worry. Patrick, at least, knew Jamie well enough to have some insight into his thought process, however deranged it might be. Her money was on Patrick finding the bastard.
    “El!” George interrupted her racing thoughts with a swift squeeze on the thigh. “Back off with the shoes, Love. Try not to worry about me and Jesse.” His face softened and he stroked her leg under the table. “I do feel better with the security detail on the house, though, don’t you? And the press hasn’t been as bad.”
    “Fucking press. Everyone feels very sorry for me. Again,” she commented, putting the last bite of snapper in her mouth. “How do people cook like this? I want to be able to cook you meals. I’m a horrible cook,” she rambled.
    “You’re not that bad. You have five, wait—six—things you can cook well. Just stick with those.”
    “You’re okay with me not being a good cook?” Stella asked.
    “I’m okay with just about anything as long as you get naked at the end of the night.” George’s dimples danced in the candlelight.
    “Well, that’s true.” She giggled. “Sex makes everything okay for you.”
    He smirked as he finished his shrimp and grits. “As a matter of fact, yes it does.”

Chapter Five
Nothing Like A Backyard BBQ
    #whentheshitgoesdownyoubetterbeready
    Stella climbed on the back of George’s bike and gave him a squeeze with her thighs to let him know she was ready to go, but it just made his dick hard. He backed them out of the garage slowly, then threw the bike in gear and headed toward Patrick and Millie’s for the game and dinner. He felt Stella lay her chin on his shoulder and snake her right hand underneath his t-shirt and around