by Brynne Asher
One of his big boots wraps around the back of my leg as his arms come around me. Before I have the chance to complain, ask what he’s doing, or even enjoy the feeling of being held tight to Grady Cain, he looks into my eyes and shocks me. “My work was dangerous. On my last job, I was captured.”
My eyes go big and his arms constrict around me when my body tenses. I can’t believe what he said, but I’m also surprised he called my bluff.
“What?” I whisper.
“You heard me. Not gonna lie, I was lucky to get out alive. You wanted to know, so I told you, but I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell anyone else how I got hurt. It won’t be the end of the world if you do, but I like to live lowkey. My life is no one’s business but mine and who I choose to share it with.”
I’m shocked at his words, by his confession, really. I thought he was probably in some sort of accident. “Why did you tell me?”
He shrugs. “I show you mine—you show me yours.”
I ignore his tit-for-tat expectation, and ask, “What do you do for a living?”
He shakes his head. “I’m retired from that. I’m taking some time off for a while, but now I work for Crew—we specialize in intelligence. We train and contract with those we used to work with. I used to be a contractor, but I’m done working in the field.”
“Like what? What kind of jobs did you contract for?” I ask, wondering what he possibly could have done that got him captured, beaten, and from the sounds of it, almost killed.
“Security. I told you what I could … and I did it because I want you to trust me. I can’t expect anything of you if I don’t share first. Now, tell me why you’re running.”
My fingers flex on his skin, and in turn, his muscles contract, either from my touch or the electro therapy. Whichever it is, it feels good. But instead of telling him what he wants, I slide one hand off his chest and reach for the dial, turning off the machine.
Looking back to him, I say quietly, “You’re done. It’s time for Wii games.”
“I promise I’ll find out one way or another, but I’d rather hear it from you. You might as well tell me.”
“You don’t want to be bothered with my problems, trust me,” I tell him the truth, trying to put him off.
“I’m feeling a little used, you know.” A small smirk appears on his face and he lowers his voice and he pulls me in even tighter. “You throw yourself in my arms, kissing me for your own benefit? That stings, baby.”
I know he’s teasing but he’s right, so I press against his chest to move away, but he wants none of it. His arms constrict, keeping me close.
“I apologized for that,” I remind him.
One of his hands on my back moves up, and pulls my face into the side of his. His clean-shaven cheek brushes mine and I scarcely feel the tip of his nose run up the side of my ear, making me shiver. “You didn’t feel sorry when I had you in my arms. In fact, you felt the very opposite of sorry.” His tongue flicks my earlobe once. “It felt right—felt like you’ve been there forever.”
“Grady,” I whisper on an exhale. Damn if he isn’t right again. I’ve never felt anything so good, so natural as being kissed by Grady. Even if he doesn’t know he’s only the second man ever to lay a hand on me. I never remember feeling this way with Weston, even in the beginning when I was caught in his snare and could pretend it was good.
When Grady’s lips hit the sensitive skin below my ear, my breath catches, and I slide my hands up his thick, corded neck. I’m not sure if I’m trying to push him away, pull him to me, or simply hang on.
“I need to get back to the residents,” I mutter as best I can, but his hand comes to my hair and he gently pulls my head back to gain access to my neck. I exhale and sound breathy as his tongue traces my collar bone. “I can’t get off schedule or it breaks into their lunch. Wii games are important for their circulation.”
His head comes up and he runs light kisses over my sensitive skin as he murmurs, “I’ve never played Wii before.”
“It’s fun,” I breathe and swallow hard. “The ladies like bowling and Foxy likes to hula-hoop.”
That’s when I lose his lips. He pulls back just enough for me to tip my head and look into his eyes where I find him frowning. “You are not hula-hooping with Foxy.”
His words, but even more his expression, are laced with a possessiveness that snap me out of my Grady-haze created by his lips on my body. I’m not sure if it’s because his expression is created by jealousy over an elderly man, but I find it funny instead of irritating. What it isn’t, is scary, like it became with Weston.
For some reason, I do something I’ve never done before, because I wouldn’t dare try to egg on Weston. I’m not sure if it’s my many months of new-found freedom or if it’s just Grady, but I can’t help but grin and taunt him. “I always hula-hoop with Foxy. It’s our thing.”
He narrows his eyes and his hands squeeze my waist. Even though my experience is limited to Weston, for some reason I knew it was safe and I was right, because I know he’s not serious when he says, “If you’re gonna fucking hula-hoop with anyone, it’s gonna be me.”
“I don’t know.” I let my eyes wander to his bare chest and let my hands run down his smooth skin, covered with a light smattering of hair. “You’ve clearly got it going on with the ladies, as Foxy would say. I’m not sure I’ll get a turn, they all seem to be vying for your attention.”
“Foxy’s a dirty old man,” he states.
“Maybe.” I look back to my hands as I keep speaking. “I guess we’ll just have to see who gets to hula-hoop with whom.”
With that, I grab an adhesive electrode in each hand, yanking hard and fast.
“Dammit,” he jerks, letting go of my hips.
I take a step back, but reach for the rest of the stickers, ripping quickly, but he’s expecting it this time. “I’ve got a date with Foxy, we need to get moving. Get dressed, Grady.”
A sexy smile spreads across his face and his dark blue eyes heat. “Someday, Maya, I’m gonna get you back for all the pain. I’m looking forward to it.”
For some reason, his threat doesn’t scare me as I’m accustomed to, and I’ve been threatened many times.
I look at him over my shoulder and grin as I roll the cart back. “No pain-no gain, big guy.”
Grady simply shakes his head, but with the smile on his face, I know for a fact there’s no reason for me to worry. Grady might’ve been grumpy and a little brooding in the beginning, but he’s turning out to be nothing but a big, fluffy, sweet marshmallow.
Chapter 9 – Figure Your Shit Out
Grady –
We’ve bowled, white-water rafted, and downhill skied. I even played doubles in tennis with Erma and we kicked Miss Lillian Rose and Betty’s asses. I thought I was gonna come out of my skin, because Maya wasn’t shitting me when she said Foxy liked to hula-hoop. Since there was no actual hula-hoop, Foxy could get really close to her. I never thought I’d feel the need to beat an elderly man to a pulp, but that’s how I felt today. He was going for the bump and grind with my new favorite physical therapist and it did not make me happy. All the while, Maya laughed and played along as I had to sit and watch her hips move in circles, side to side, and back and forth.
Who knew fake hula-hooping could be hot? I’ve never been so pissed and turned on at the same time.
I helped her clean up from Donuts and Dominoes and we got the video games put away in the TV room. I hugged and kissed every old lady on the cheek—I swear they were lining up for it. This morning has been interesting, that’s for sure.
Maya is putting away the last of the controllers. The residents just left us to go to lunch. Tomorrow is
Saturday and I just found out she doesn’t work at the Ranch again until Monday, which is good. The winery is more secure. I got an email from Crew during downhill skiing with both Maya’s and MacLachlan’s backgrounds attached, with a message saying, “The woman sure isn’t boring. You’ll want to focus on his report. Don’t take your eyes off her.”
I haven’t had time to read the report, what with all the reindeer games, but that made my blood boil, wondering what it could be. Now I’m glad I listened to my gut and came with her this morning. Besides the guy being an asshole, I’d rather Maya tell me why she’s running than having to read it on her background. I know women. If she finds out later I knew more than she wanted me to, that’s a sure-fire way to piss her off. I can’t afford to do that yet.
I’m sure I’ll piss her off eventually. I am me after all—it’s inevitable. But this soon? No way.
“You sure are popular with the ladies.” I look up and Maya is walking to me with her bag, grinning. “You had them lining up for a piece of you.”
My mouth tips because really, all I want is Maya, but instead of saying that, I tell her the truth. “I’m good with women.”
She stops in her tracks, only making it halfway across the room to me. She puts a hand to her hip and a frown mars her pretty face. “What do you mean you’re good with women?”
“Settle down—don’t throw a salad at me,” I defend myself. “I meant I grew up surrounded by women. I’ve got four sisters. If a man doesn’t learn how to survive swimming in a pool of estrogen in that environment, he’d drown.”
“You have four sisters?” Her eyes get big.
“Yep.”
“Wow,” she shakes her head a bit. She moves again, passing me.
It takes two steps for me to catch up and tag her hand. She tries to pull away, but I hold tight.
“Grady, you need to stop this.”
I ignore her and look over her head as we walk past the cafeteria. I see a large table of my new friends and wave. “See you ladies Monday.”
A gaggle of goodbyes are squealed as we leave.
“You’re not coming back Monday,” Maya insists in a low voice, again trying to pull my hand from hers.
I don’t have the chance to argue with her, because the moment I turn my head as we hit the electric sliding front doors, I’m stopped mid-step. I pull Maya close, and this time she doesn’t fight it or pull away. She squeezes my hand as her free one comes up to my bicep to hold on. She nestles halfway in back of my arm, shielding herself from the men we practically walk into.
Today in the daylight, it’s easier to see his frustrated rage. Unlike last night when I surprised him, today there’s no surprise in his features. His glare, which was initially focused on Maya, moves slowly to me.
What a dumbass.
Unlike him, it’s easy for me to rid my face of emotion when needed. I’ve spent too many years dealing with scum of the earth much more intimidating than he is.
“Wes,” I greet him with a blank face, and almost want to laugh at the expression he makes, probably because I shortened his name. “I’m surprised you’re still wandering the countryside. You visiting a resident here?”
Weston’s jaw tenses and the older guy with him takes his side. He’s got to be in his fifties and has a paunch hanging over his belt. He’s not the threat he’s presenting himself to be. I can see the piece he’s got strapped under his jacket since he’s overweight and his clothes don’t fit.
I’d shake my head at him if I could. Carrying concealed isn’t worth it if it isn’t concealed. I should know. After what happened last night I’m carrying now, but unlike this jackwad, I’m actually concealed. Even with my bum shoulder, I could take them both down before he could reach for his weapon.
On the other hand, I can’t tell where Weston’s carrying. Still, I have no doubt I could have them face first on the floor within fifteen seconds.
Weston’s eyes move to where Maya’s clinging to my arm and he finally growls out an answer to my question.
“I’ve come to take Maya home.”
*****
Maya –
Of course, I should’ve expected this from him, but I’ve been so distracted by Grady, I haven’t thought about the possibility of him showing up here.
So far this morning, if Grady wasn’t being sweet or finding a way to touch me, he was charming the old ladies’ club. He made them so happy, it was almost too much for me to watch. I haven’t had very many genuine people in my life—my brother is pretty much it. Everyone else wanted to be my friend because of whose daughter I was. The worst was when people wanted absolutely nothing to do with me because of who I was. It sucked because no one wanted to invest in a true friendship, and honestly, most people were too careful with me to be genuine.
But I’ve come to love all the residents here, and I think I’ve done okay at winning them over. They don’t have an ulterior motive to like or hate me—they’re just happy I’m here to spend time with them and provide some fun in their lives.
Many of them don’t have a lot of visitors, it doesn’t take much to give their day a boost. It doesn’t matter if Grady only brought them joy by some secondary means while he primarily wanted to follow me around all day. He brought a smile to the faces of many. It was hard for me to overlook that all morning as he flirted with his harem.
So almost walking into Weston after being distracted by the wonderfulness of Grady shouldn’t surprise me, but nonetheless, it does. Weston was alone last night, but I shouldn’t be surprised he has a lackey with him.
And of course, he brought Byron Murray, the man who made my options clear just before I decided I had to escape. He sure did his part threatening me before I left. Of course, it wasn’t Weston or his dad who explained the ways of their world to me.
I couldn’t help it, the second I saw Weston walk through the front door of my place of employment, I latched onto Grady before I realized what I was doing.
“I’ve come to take Maya home,” Weston growls, staring straight at Grady.
I cringe, and if I could melt into Grady’s side, I would.
“I think we went over this last night—but just to jog your memory—she’s not going anywhere. She doesn’t want you here. She told you as much last night, and after you left, she continued to express it to me the rest of the night in our bed.”
I really need to have a talk with Grady about Weston. It’s not a good idea to goad him, and at this point, that’s exactly what Grady is doing by insinuating we’re something we’re not. Grady doesn’t know the tiniest fraction of my background with Weston, but he needs to stop. He’s only making things worse.
Weston looks back to me, anger radiating from every pore of his body. “Okay, I get it—you want to give me a taste of my own medicine with this guy?” He jerks his chin toward Grady. “Fine, it’s done, but this shit is getting old, Maya. Whatever phase you’re going through, get over it—I’m losing my patience. We’re even. I told my father you’d be home. You know I won’t disappoint him.”
“Not sure who your father is,” Grady answers before I can, “but Maya’s not with me to get back at you. It’s time you come to terms with your disappointment and realize she’s not going anywhere.” Grady then looks Byron up and down before adding, “I have no idea who you are, but she’s really not going anywhere with you.”
Weston looks to me and keeps talking. “I don’t know what you’re doing, what you think you’re going to accomplish here, but you know you’ll end up back home eventually. Don’t drag it out and make it harder than it needs to be. If you come now, we can easily explain things—to your family and mine. Everyone wants you home.”
Saying my first words, I lo
ok at Byron when I respond, “Oh, I bet they do.”
“Maya,” Weston bites out my name to get my attention.
I might be grasping at Grady, but from somewhere deep inside, I find the will to strengthen my voice. “I’m not going anywhere with you ever again. You shit all over what was left of our relationship a year ago when I found you with her. Your perseverance did no good, and others telling me to look the other way was more than I could handle. But you know what pushed me over the edge.” I look back to Byron and narrow my eyes. “The threats. I’m never coming back.”
“You should call and talk to Joseph.” Weston gets my attention, and my eyes shoot back to him. Grady squeezes my hand and pulls me in back of him a little more, keeping his protective stance in front of me. “He’s home. He’s having seizures again. But you wouldn’t know that, would you?”
My heart catches and I can only imagine the expression on my face, because all of a sudden, Weston turns smug. He raises a brow and that evil smirk creeps across his face, one I’m more familiar with than anyone has the right to be. He knows he’s one-upped me, even though I shouldn’t trust a single word that passes his lips. It’s a sure possibility what he says is true.
“You haven’t called him in all this time? I’ve heard he’s more worried about you than anyone. Maybe it’s the stress causing the flare-up.”
Weston’s been around Joseph long enough, he knows stress has nothing to do with it, he’s just trying everything he can to get to me. Even though I know it’s not true, guilt flows through me for not being there. I haven’t contacted Joe since I left—I knew they’d expect me to do just that. It was all I could do to keep myself from reaching out to him. I miss him terribly. Now that they know where I am, it shouldn’t matter.