by Caila Jaynes
Camden was silent for a minute. “Yeah, I think we will. ASAP. Thanks, Gray. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Chapter Twenty
Claire headed into the kitchen Tuesday morning and stopped short. She’d purposely waited until Grayson was supposed to be off duty before she came down for breakfast. She’d heard him go into his bedroom earlier and close the door, so why was he down here again?
Seated at the breakfast table, he was wearing sweatpants and an Army T-shirt, his feet bare and his face weary. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his shoulders were slumped.
Trying not to focus on how those broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his shirt, Claire said, “Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”
Grayson looked up at her from the remnants of his breakfast and narrowed his eyes. Her disappointment must have been obvious because his words came back equally sharp.
“I was. Now I’m awake again.” Turning his focus back to his plate, he slathered butter on a piece of toast and took a bite.
Claire frowned. He couldn’t have slept for more than a couple of hours.
When she didn’t respond, Grayson studied her face a moment and then smirked at her. “What is that, concern? How sweet of you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sarcasm. How attractive.”
“I’m so glad you think so. Your opinion really matters to me, you know.”
The man was infuriating. If she weren’t so hungry, she’d leave the kitchen, but she was starving. She’d waited to eat with the hope that she wouldn’t have to see him.
Whatever. If another opportunity to stand her ground was presenting itself, she should take it. She was tired of people pushing her around, especially Grayson.
Claire brushed past him on the way to the cabinet. “For the record, I am sweet, but only to people who are nice to me. What about you? Have you ever been nice to anyone in your life?”
He finished the toast he was eating and drained the last of his juice, but didn’t respond.
Annoyed at being ignored, she said, “Maybe your guilty conscience is the reason you can’t sleep.”
Grayson stiffened and shoved back from the table. Not meeting her eyes, he took his plate to the sink and dumped it in the soapy water inside.
Drops of water splashed onto Claire and she snapped her head around. Had he done it on purpose? Probably.
Unbelievable.
“You really are something,” she called out as he headed for the door.
“Thanks for the compliment,” he shot back over his shoulder.
Once he was upstairs, Claire pulled out a seat at the table and sank into it. She should have just kept her mouth shut. She’d never been catty in her life, had never had the nerve to, but where Grayson was concerned, her temper seemed to have no bounds.
The worst part was he now seemed to know how much he got to her. She dropped her head into her hands.
Why was she thinking so much about Grayson, anyway? Why had he taken so much of her headspace? She was practically engaged, after all. It was Gabe she should be thinking of, not Grayson.
So, why wasn’t she? Probably because she was bored, not to mention a little lonely. Her bed here seemed huge without Charlie taking up half of it, and she missed his excitement at seeing her when she came home each day, and his sloppy kisses when she rubbed his ears the way he liked. Besides Leah, Charlie was her best friend, and she missed him like crazy.
Speaking of friends, Leah was probably ready to wring her neck after missing another client meeting today. And with no word from Claire since the weekend, she was probably worried.
And Gabe? He stayed so busy, he’d probably barely noticed she hadn’t been in touch.
Glancing down at the bracelet he’d given her, Claire turned it around her wrist a few times, then took it off and headed back upstairs to tuck it into her purse.
Thankful when Grayson disappeared to his room in the early afternoon to get some rest in preparation for the night watch, Claire joined Jeremy in the kitchen. He was prepping dinner, wearing what she now recognized as his favorite baseball cap.
“What are you making for us tonight?” she asked.
“Fancy chicken.”
Confused, she scrunched up her face. “What in the world is fancy chicken?”
He pulled a slow cooker from a lower cabinet and plugged it in. “Secret family recipe,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling as he glanced over his shoulder. “If I told you what was in it, then I’d have to kill you.”
Claire burst out laughing, surprised at the corny joke. Her thoughts drifted to Grayson and how different her interactions were with him, not easy like hanging out with Jeremy. What had made Grayson such a difficult person?
“Was Grayson in the Army?”
Jeremy looked up and frowned. “Why do you ask?”
Embarrassed that she’d actually voiced her thoughts, she shrugged. “He was wearing an Army T-shirt earlier.”
Jeremy nodded as he dumped sour cream into a bowl with other ingredients to make what looked like a creamy sauce. “He was. Enlisted after high school and became an MP—” He looked up, and noticing the confused expression Claire was sure she was wearing, he explained. “Military police. He finished his enlistment and went to college on the GI Bill.”
That explains the military vibe he gives off, and his bossiness.
“Was he in combat?” Maybe that would explain Grayson’s aversion to people. Maybe he had PTSD and his personality had suffered. There had to be an explanation for his surliness.
Jeremy shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. From what I understand, Gray served stateside. Then after college, he joined Phoenix.”
Once Jeremy had added the creamy sauce to the slow cooker along with the chicken, he turned the switch on High and set the lid on top.
“We’re good to go now for a few hours,” he said. “Want to watch a movie? I can set you up with the DVD player, and there’s a bunch of DVDs on the shelf below it. I think I saw a chick flick or two in the mix the last time I was here.”
“Chick flick?” she scoffed. “How about a good horror movie, or an action/adventure?”
Jeremy shook his head, laughing as he crouched in front of the TV. Selecting a handful of DVDs for them to choose from, he said, “Now you’re speaking my language.”
Claire grinned back as she dropped onto the sofa and curled her legs beneath her.
At least it would pass the time. Without her phone or internet, she couldn’t work on her case, chat with Leah, check in with her parents . . . nothing. And Grayson had nixed her going on a run, so she couldn’t do that either.
With those options off the table, she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself, so a couple of hours mindlessly staring at the TV sounded like just the thing.
Chapter Twenty-One
Dinner that night was agonizing for Grayson. It was the first evening meal the three had actually shared together, and Claire didn’t have much to say. Jeremy had tried to start small talk a few times, but Claire hadn’t picked up the conversation thread, and Grayson certainly wasn’t going to. When she finished dinner, she mumbled a quick good-night and went upstairs.
Grayson watched her leave, trying not to stare at the gentle sway of her hips. Those leggings she wore hugged her every curve, and the filmy tunic top she’d paired with them was gauzy enough to tease the imagination, but crinkled so you couldn’t actually see anything. It was maddening.
Jeremy’s gaze was also on Claire. Once she was out of earshot, he grinned. “She’s pretty cool.”
Glaring at his partner, Grayson said, “Shouldn’t you be doing your job instead of palling around with the protectee? You two have been awfully cozy.”
“Whoa, touchy.” Jeremy raised his hands in surrender. “Would it be better if I made her into an enemy the way you have?”
Grayson clenched his jaw but stayed silent.
“Sorry, man, but it’s true.”
He stared at his plate. It wasn’t as if he’d been tr
ying to piss Claire off—
Okay, maybe he had. But he hadn’t intended to start an all-out war, which was what being in the same room with her felt like now after only a few days.
Why is it even bothering me?
“She’s a good person,” Jeremy said as he stood to load his plate and glass into the dishwasher. “Down-to-earth and easy to talk to.”
Surprised, Grayson looked up. “Is that right?”
“Yeah, it is. I like her a lot. Do you know she always brings her father’s driver a coffee whenever he picks her up?”
Hot pinpricks of shame swept through Grayson. That didn’t sound like something a spoiled debutante would do.
Keeping his voice even, he said, “Really?”
“Yeah. And she knows exactly how he likes it. It’s a routine of theirs.” Leaning against the counter, Jeremy gave Grayson a pointed look. “She cleans up the kitchen after I cook, and offered to do my laundry today. I think it’s really nice.”
“Are you trying to make some kind of point here?”
Jeremy shrugged. “Just thinking about her boyfriend. It’s going to suck for her when she finds out about him, and she doesn’t deserve that.”
Grayson leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Be careful what you say.”
“She’s in the shower, Gray.”
He listened, and Jeremy was right. The old pipes were clearly in use. “You need to be careful, anyway.”
“All I’m saying is it’s hard not to warn her.” When Grayson gave him a hard look, Jeremy held up his hands. “I’m not going to, all right?”
“See that you don’t.”
Grayson fought the unfamiliar surge of unease that swept through him. While Claire was doing her best to avoid him, she was having all her meals with Jeremy.
What do you expect with the way you’ve been treating her?
He scrubbed a hand over his face. Anyway, Jeremy didn’t have to worry about how Claire would react. Nice girl or not, she was tough. She’d find a way to get over the guy she was dating.
And it didn’t matter whether she was nice or spoiled. Either way, Claire Parker was trouble. She was too attractive for her own good, and that feistiness of hers was like an aphrodisiac. The smart thing for him to do would be to keep her at arm’s length, and he’d do his damnedest to do that.
Even if I have to hurt her feelings to do it.
Frowning at Jeremy, he said, “We’re not going to discuss this again.”
His partner gave him a disappointed look and muttered, “Fine. I’ll be upstairs.”
After Jeremy left the kitchen, Grayson turned off the lights and pulled back the living room curtains, then reached out to twist the wand for the mini blinds, angling them so he could see out but no one could see in. He settled into an upholstered chair they’d positioned in front of the windows, still thinking of what Jeremy had said.
It was no surprise that Claire thought he was rude. A lot of people thought the same, even if they didn’t use that specific word. Usually, words like “gruff” or “intense” came into play. The gist was the same, though.
It wasn’t as if he disagreed; he was gruff. He could—and should—do a better job of considering other people’s feelings. Despite what Claire thought, the gruffness didn’t come from a desire to be mean. It came from an inability to tolerate bullshit. Anything that came between him and his goals was fair game, which was why he’d reacted to her demands the way he had.
And it doesn’t hurt as much to lose people when you aren’t close to them, right?
Suddenly exhausted, Grayson let his head fall back against the chair. What he wouldn’t give for a decent cup of coffee. Maybe then he could clear his thoughts and act civilized. The dreck they had at the safe house was pure shit and wasn’t doing anything to improve his mood.
Tomorrow when he went on a grocery run, his first stop would be a Starbucks. But for now, he’d have to settle for some hot tea.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Claire paced the floor of the master bedroom. Dinner had been miserable; the tension between her and Grayson was making this house feel tiny. That, combined with the fact that she couldn’t set a foot outside, had her going stir crazy. There was no choice left but to try to make nice with Grayson.
Jeremy had already gone to bed by the time she headed back down to the kitchen. It was completely dark as she took the last few stairs. When her eyes adjusted, she found Grayson was keeping watch in the living room, drinking a cup of what smelled like hot tea as he stared out the front windows into the moonlit yard and the street beyond.
After pulling in a deep breath, she said, “I want to apologize for this morning. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
Grayson didn’t turn around. “Don’t flatter yourself. You didn’t offend me.”
For several seconds, all Claire could do was stare at his back. Resolution or no resolution, she wasn’t going to be able to ignore the comment.
“I’m trying to be nice and that’s how you act?”
He turned around in his chair to meet her gaze, his face impassive. “How am I supposed to act?”
“For starters, how about older than a toddler?”
“Considering I’m living with a spoiled brat, that would be kind of difficult.”
Shocked at his bluntness, Claire sucked in a breath. No one had ever spoken to her like that, although to be honest, no one had ever had to. She’d always been so soft-spoken, so eager to please, and by doing so had avoided confrontation most of her life.
Until now.
Studying him in the dim light that spilled from her bedroom upstairs, she realized Grayson’s eyes were alit with something that looked like a challenge.
He’s trying to goad me.
Enough was enough. Crossing her arms over her chest, Claire said, “I need to speak with your supervisor.”
Grayson stared at her, stoic but for the slight flare in his nostrils. “If there’s a problem, we’ll address it.”
“There are lots of problems. Why don’t we start with why you aren’t telling me what you know about my case?”
He pulled in a breath and dropped his gaze to his mug. “There are things we can’t share just yet. My supervisor isn’t going to be able to tell you anything different.”
“I’m sure he won’t dismiss me the way you do.”
Grayson looked back up at her, his jaw set. “I don’t dismiss you.”
“Are you kidding me? You most certainly do,” Claire scoffed. “You’ve been pissed off at me from day one, and for what? No good reason. I’m not about to apologize for caring about my dog or my client. The fact that you don’t only proves that you’re an unfeeling monster who has no concern for others.”
The hint of amusement that flitted over his annoyingly handsome face confused her, but Claire squared her shoulders, refusing to back down.
“We’re going to catch the kidnappers,” he finally said, his face impassive again. “Then you’ll be done with me.”
Claire blinked several times but didn’t respond. Was that supposed to be an apology?
“Anything else?” he asked. That dismissive tone she loved so much was back.
She’d said her piece, gotten her point across . . . she should just walk out of here. But when she tried to leave, her legs wouldn’t cooperate. Apparently, she wasn’t finished with him.
“What’s going on in your life that’s making you act so miserably?” she blurted.
Surprise flickered in Grayson’s eyes. It was so brief she might have missed it, but her words had clearly struck a nerve.
“Really? It’s armchair psychology now?” He stood up and brushed past her to the kitchen to dump his mug into the sink. “As fun as this has been, I need to call my boss.”
Claire’s anger deflated slightly as he stalked from the room, and worry crept into its place.
Stepping over to the chair Grayson had been sitting in, she dropped onto it. She’d been assured by Grayson and Jeremy that her parents weren’t in
danger, but was that really true? When the kidnappers couldn’t find her, would they go after her parents instead?
Thomas and Eva Parker might not have been the most affectionate parents, and they drove her crazy with their self-centeredness and relentless expectations of her, but they were all the family she had and she loved them. It terrified her to think of something bad happening to them.
Frustrated, Claire stared out the window into the front yard. Her parents were due back from the campaign tour on Sunday night, and she didn’t want to still be stuck here when they returned. Peter had surely told them by now that she was in protective custody, and they were probably worried sick.
Worried sick?
Okay, so her parents would probably be more concerned about how news of this situation might affect her father’s campaign and their family’s reputation. Knowing she was safe with these federal agents, her father and his team would focus on the optics of the situation.
Claire was missing important client meetings that affected not only her future but Chris’s, and she had no idea how much longer her life would be on hold like this. Being a law student, she understood the agents couldn’t tell her everything they knew, but surely they could be a little more forthcoming.
She went back to her room and wrote Jeremy a note, asking to speak to his boss, and slipped it under his bedroom door before she went to bed.
Chapter Twenty-Three
After leaving Claire downstairs, Grayson paced the small guest room as he called Eli for an update.
“Things have been happening quickly,” Eli said. “Want to hear the call?”
“Absolutely.”
“I just forwarded you the video of the meet with Deck Wallace’s girlfriend, Regina. Here’s the audio of the phone call from yesterday, where Rob arranged the meet.”
Grayson stopped his pacing to listen intently as Eli hit a button and a recording began to play. There was the sound of a phone ringing, and then the call picked up.