by Kim Fox
“Wow,” she said, watching her finger as she bent it and waved it around. “That was so cool. But for real, thanks for teaching me that.”
“My pleasure,” Grant said, feeling a wave of warmth flowing through his chest. “I hope you don’t mind, but my mother and Mack’s father are coming over for dinner.”
“I get to meet your mom?” she said, grinning widely. “What is she like?”
“You don’t want to know,” he said with a laugh. “Especially if she finds out you’re single. You are single, right?”
Grant’s chest tightened as he waited for her answer.
“Yes,” she said with her cheeks blushing. “I am single.”
They got up and were about to go inside to get ready for dinner when Ryder called out. He was walking over with a tight look on his face.
“You can jump in the shower first,” Grant said, holding the door open for Amélie.
She smiled shyly as she went inside. Grant closed the door behind him and turned to his cousin who didn’t look too happy.
“You showed her Gramps’ trick?” Ryder said, staring at him in disbelief. “That’s a family secret. We’ve never told anyone that outside the family and you’re telling our enemy?”
“She’s not our enemy,” Grant snapped back.
“Oh, really?” Ryder said, shaking his head. “Is that why she has handcuffs around her wrist?”
Grant took a deep breath, trying to calm the angry heat flushing through his body. He didn’t like anyone talking about Amélie like that, but his cousin did have a point. Many shifters had begged them to teach them that trick over the years, including Mack and Logan, and they had refused them all.
“Oh my god,” Ryder said, his face dropping as he realized what was really happening. “You’re falling for this girl!”
“No, I’m not,” Grant snapped back.
“Yes, you are.”
“You know me,” Grant said, shifting around uncomfortably. “I’m not going to even think about getting a girl before I can get the ranch’s finances in order.”
Ryder laughed as he stared at him. “You can’t lie to me, cousin. You’re crushing on her. Big time.”
“No, I’m not,” Grant answered with a sigh. “I just like hanging out with her. She’s funny and smart and I love hearing her accent. You should hear how she says my name. Grant. Grant. I could listen to it all day.”
He caught himself and cringed when he saw the look on Ryder’s face.
“So, you know…” Grant said, trying to recover. “Obviously, I’m keeping it professional. Definitely no feelings for me.”
The door opened behind her and Amélie popped her head out. “Where do you keep the towels?”
“Hall closet,” he answered, feeling his cheeks heating up. “Top shelf.”
“Thanks, Grant,” she said as she closed the door with a smile.
Ryder just shook his head. “I came to tell you that your mom is here.”
“Oh, thanks.”
“You better wipe that goofy grin off your face, cousin,” he said with a grin. “You may be fooling yourself, but there’s no way you’re going to fool your mother.”
“Who is this?!?” Grant’s mom said, barely able to hide her huge grin when she saw Grant and Amélie walking over to the pool bar.
She ran over and practically thrust her hand into Amelie’s stomach. “I’m Grant’s mother, but you can call me Dorothy.”
Amélie smiled as she shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Amélie.”
Grant had gotten Tempest to remove the handcuffs for the evening. He knew his mother wouldn’t have responded well to seeing that.
“I love how she says it,” Dorothy said with a high pitched squeal. “Amélie. You are adorable!”
“Mom…”
“And where are you from, Amélie?” she asked, ignoring Grant’s warning. “How did you meet my son?”
Amélie looked embarrassed with her cheeks blushing as she smiled shyly. “I’m from Quebec.”
“Quebec!” Dorothy said like it was the most amazing thing she’d ever heard in her life. “How exotic!”
“Exotic, Mom?” Grant said with a roll of his eyes. “It’s in Canada!”
She grabbed Amélie’s arm and turned her back to him. “I’m talking to Amélie, thank you very much.”
Amélie caught his eye and Grant mouthed a ‘sorry.’ She gave a wink back.
“Did you know that Grant owns all of this?” she said, sweeping her arm around. “What a smart industrious young man he is.”
“Really?” Amélie said, looking impressed. “Even those broken down cars over there?”
“Yes!” Dorothy said, barely able to contain herself. “Even those! Come, we must get a drink and you can tell me all about how you met my son. I want to hear everything.”
Grant followed closely as Dorothy dragged her to the bar. They each grabbed a bar stool as Grant walked behind the bar and started making them drinks.
Mack and his father Bert were at the grill arguing over the temperature and Logan and Bryce were already at the bar.
“I just love your hair,” Dorothy said, running her hand down Amélie’s wavy blonde hair. “Grant, don’t you just love her hair?”
“It’s very nice hair,” Grant said, starting to panic. He knew his mother had wanted a daughter-in-law and grandkids, but he didn’t realize she had wanted one this badly.
Grant handed Amélie and his mother each a glass of white wine. His mother took it without saying thank you or even taking her eyes off of her new obsession.
“So, tell me,” she said as she swirled her wine glass around. “How did you two meet? And don’t leave out any details. Was it love at first sight?”
Ever the pain in the ass, Bryce thought that this was a good time to speak.
“Love at first sight?” Bryce said, looking confused. “You know she’s our prisoner, right?”
Dorothy jerked her head back. “What?”
Mack seemed to overhear and he quickly tried to diffuse the situation. “Dorothy, can we get you over here? We need a tiebreaker to test the temperature.”
“It’s called a thermometer,” she shouted back, never taking her eyes off of Amélie.
“Thermometers are for pussies,” Bert said, shaking his head.
“What did Bryce say about her being your prisoner?” Dorothy asked as she slowly turned to Grant. He cringed and started to panic under his mother’s scrutinizing gaze. He had never been very good at lying to her. The first time he realized that was when he was six years old and she had asked him if he had broken the lamp. He said no and then immediately burst into tears.
“Grant,” she said in her no-fucking-around tone. “Is she your prisoner?”
“Of course not,” Amélie said with a laugh. “He was trying to say prisonée. It’s French for date.”
“Oh,” Dorothy said taking a breath of relief at the same time that Grant did. “Prisonée. How exotic!”
“Dorothy!” Bert called out again. “We need your culinary expertise. My son doesn’t know the first thing about barbecues. He must have been switched in the hospital.”
“I know the flames have to be hotter than this!” Mack snapped back. “And I know that your head would fit nicely inside this barbecue, old man.”
Bert let out a deep laugh. “Nope. He definitely wasn’t switched in the hospital. This asshole must be my son.”
“You’ll have to excuse me for a moment,” Dorothy said as she slid off the barstool. “These two will kill each other if I don’t intervene. Don’t go anywhere! I’ll be back in a minute.”
She hurried away with her glass of wine and Grant leaned across the bar to get closer to his prisonée.
“Thank you for saving me,” he whispered.
Amélie blushed as she took a sip of wine, her eyes staying on him as she drank. “I didn’t want to break her heart. She seems so sweet.”
“I think you have to work on your English,” Grant sa
id with a laugh. “The word you’re looking for is annoying.”
Amélie playfully swatted his arm. “She’s sweet. She just wants you to find a girl and start a family. What’s so bad about that?”
Watching how Amélie’s face was lit up in the warm glow of the setting sun, Grant couldn’t answer her. Settling down didn’t seem so bad if he could do it with a girl as amazing as her.
She looked beautiful in one of Tempest’s summer dresses. The yellow flowers on it really made her stunning gray eyes with a touch of green pop even more.
“Have you ever thought of… settling down and starting a family?” she asked, looking at the wine in her glass.
“Recently I have,” Grant said honestly. “But it’s a hard time for me. I have other stuff to focus on.”
“I know what you mean,” she said, looking up at him.
“Would you like to have kids and a family one day?”
She nibbled at her bottom lip as she looked back down at her glass. “I always wanted to,” she said softly. “It was always the plan, but now…”
“But now what?” he asked when she didn’t continue.
She took a deep breath and straightened on the barstool. “Now, I’m not sure of anything. I’m afraid a traditional way of life is no longer an option for me.”
“Why?” he asked, leaning a little closer. “You’re an amazing woman. You can do whatever you want to do. You don’t have to work for the bad guys.”
Her shoulders dropped and she turned on the barstool, suddenly looking like she was going to start crying.
Grant straightened up, feeling awful. “I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay,” she said, taking a deep breath to compose herself. She hopped off the barstool and forced out a smile at him. “I’m just going to freshen up before dinner.”
Grant nodded. “Of course.”
He kept his eye on her as she walked back to his cabin to use the bathroom.
Everything was going so well. Why the hell did you have to say that?
He dropped his head and sighed. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he did have a crush on this girl. How could he not? She was perfect.
“Grant?” Bryce asked.
He turned to the kid with a sigh. Logan had a smirk on his face as he watched.
“Does prisoner really mean date in French?” he asked. “Is she your new girlfriend?”
Logan just shook his head.
“Do me a favor, Bryce?” Grant said. “Drink your lemonade and keep your mouth shut for the rest of the night.”
Logan laughed as Bryce looked around, clearly confused. “What did I say?”
“This is what happens when we let Mack teach someone how to socialize,” Logan said, slapping a hand on the teenager’s back. “From now on do the opposite of what Mack does.”
The two started bickering as Grant leaned back on the bar and stared at Amélie’s drink, counting the seconds until she returned.
Chapter Nine
Amélie
Amélie took a deep breath as she splashed some cold water onto her face. For a second there outside, it actually felt like a date.
It felt like she was meeting Grant’s mother under different circumstances, and the worst part was, she had been actually enjoying herself.
“That kind of life is finished for you,” she whispered to the reflection in the mirror. “Dates and boys and their fawning mothers were a part of a different lifetime. You’re in a different world now and if you want to ever see your mother and your sister again, you must focus.”
She turned her wrist and looked down at the tattoo inked onto her skin. Après moi, le déluge. “After me, the flood.”
The real words were too scary to say out loud. The flood was the death of her family. Well, what was left of it.
She had planned to become Grant’s friend over the past three days to gain his trust and get his guard down so she could finally steal the wand and bring it to General Hunt, but the more she hung out with Grant and got to know the guy, the more she started to become her old self.
Amélie had thought that her old self was dead. Gone when her father was shot.
But now she wasn’t so sure. Glimpses of herself were starting to slip back in. Whenever she caught Grant stealing a glance at her, it made her feel like the young awkward high school girl who had caught her crush Brad Jenkins watching her in Math class.
When they rode in the car together, talking and joking around, it felt like she was back in Montreal driving down Saint-Catherine’s street with a fun date.
Even tonight, dressed up in a flowery print summer dress with a bit of color in her cheeks, she felt free like she was back home at a fun summer barbecue with her friends.
“There will be time for that girl when you get home safely with your family,” she whispered to herself. “But right now, I need assassin Amélie.”
She only had three days to get to the facility with the wand before General Hunt’s deadline. She still had to steal it and escape this crew of lion shifters who wouldn’t give it up without a fight. After that, she had to make her way through the mountains and find the facility which could all take a couple of days.
She had to quit screwing around and having fun with Grant. Every time she enjoyed a drink while talking to him, Elodie was locked up somewhere fearing for her life. Every time they laughed while driving somewhere, was a moment her mother was terrified for her daughters.
It was time to get serious and plan to steal the wand. All of their guards were down now, especially Grant’s. Hell, she didn’t even have her handcuffs on anymore and he had let her go to the bathroom by herself.
She clenched her jaw as she stared at the hard eyes in the mirror and made a plan. She would be fun tonight. She’d pretend to enjoy herself and joke around as if she was one of them. She’d charm Grant’s mother and try to get everyone drunk. Once the night was over, and everyone was passed out, she would sneak out of the window, steal the wand from Tempest in any way she had to, and then escape.
It had to be tonight.
Amélie ran her fingers over the tattoo of the family of birds on her shoulder and nodded. I’m coming, guys. Hold tight.
“It was a pleasure meeting you,” Dorothy said as she vigorously shook Amélie’s hand. “A real, real pleasure. I hope that we get to meet again real soon.”
“Me too,” Amélie said politely.
“Really?” Dorothy said looking eager. “I know a great little sandwich shop in town. I’m free tomorrow at lunch if you want to—”
“Okay, Mom,” Grant said as he took her by the shoulders and gently led her away. “It’s time to go.”
Amélie laughed as Dorothy dug her heels into the ground and looked over her shoulder. “Their roast beef sandwiches will make you think you died and gone to—”
“You’re only going one place,” Grant interrupted. “Home.”
He picked her up and carried her the rest of the way to the car while Amélie giggled.
The wine had been flowing throughout the dinner and she had drunk a little too much for someone who was supposed to be on mercenary duty.
The truth was she had a great night—the best night in a long time—and she was sad for it to end. Logan, Mack, and Bryce had just headed off to bed, and Ryder and Tempest were following.
“Goodnight, Amélie,” Ryder said as he walked past her. She smiled at him as a pang of guilt struck her. These people were being so nice to her, especially considering she had tried to kill them only a few days ago.
They were good people and ones that she would have been proud to call friends in her former lifetime. In this lifetime, she didn’t have the luxury of having friends.
“Goodnight, ma belle,” Tempest said, shooting her a wink. “You look so damn good in that dress. How am I ever going to wear it again?”
Amélie smiled as her cheeks heated up. “I’m sure you look even more radiant in it.”
Tempest laughed. “Yeah right. I know the French
like wine, but how much did you drink?”
“Enough to be telling the truth.”
Tempest chuckled. “Best prisoner ever. Tomorrow I have a low cut top that would look stunning on you.” She leaned in close. “It should drive Grant crazy,” she whispered with a grin.
Amélie couldn’t help but smile. “Goodnight,” she said, shutting Tempest down before she made her start blushing even more.
Tempest hurried to catch up with her man and Amélie’s eyes narrowed on the red wand that was sticking out of her bun. Her pulse started to race as she stared at it.
That was her freedom right there.
That little red stick was everything.
“Sorry about her,” Grant said, making her jump when he returned out of nowhere. “She can get… carried away.”
“She’s sweet.”
“Thanks for playing along with the whole prisonée thing,” he said with his eyes shining. “Bryce can be a bit of a dolt sometimes.”
“It was fun,” Amélie answered, not lying one bit.
“Well,” Grant said, looking around. “You must be tired, so…”
“I’m not tired,” Amélie blurt out. She knew that once they went to bed, she would probably never see him again, and she wasn’t quite ready for that yet.
“Oh,” he said, looking pleasantly surprised. “Want to have a drink?”
She looked up at him and smiled. “I would love a drink.”
He offered his arm and she wrapped hers around it, enjoying the feel of his hard muscles as they walked to the bar under the light of the moon.
“Sounds like your mom really wants you to settle down,” Amélie said as Grant walked behind the bar to get some drinks.
“You think?” he said with a laugh. “What would you like?”
“What are you having?”
“Beer.”
“A beer sounds good.”
He grabbed two out of the mini-fridge and walked back around the bar, sitting on the barstool next to hers.
They sipped their beers as the soft music played over the speakers.
“So, why haven’t you?” she asked.