by Anna Blakely
Because everything Grant said was true.
Brynnon grabbed her iced tea and took a big gulp, wishing she could punch the tiny voice in her head in the throat.
Fine, so maybe she’d flirted a little. So what? It shouldn’t even matter to him, anyway. Grant wasn’t interested in her like that. She was a job to him, and nothing more. Except...
If that’s true, why did seeing you flirt with another man bother him so damn much?
Brynnon also hadn’t missed the way those mysterious, blue-gray eyes of his had slid down to her cleavage, right in the middle of an argument. Not to mention the unmistakable heat she’d seen in them when they’d risen back up to meet hers.
She could just chalk it up to the fact that he was a guy, but her gut said he was more interested in her than he was trying to let on. Which only added to the frustrating mix of emotions she experienced every time Grant was in the room. Or, in her thoughts.
Brynnon had tried being distant this morning, thinking maybe that would help. Instead, all her self-induced silence had given her was more time to think about other things. Like, the way it felt to be wrapped in his protective arms, or how she’d laid in bed last night, pathetically wishing he’d burst into her room and ravish her until they were both physically spent.
“What do you think, Brynnon?”
Her father’s mentioning of her name snapped her out of it. Glancing up from her plate, she realized both he and Grant were looking at her as if they were waiting for an answer.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Her father set his fork down, his silver eyebrows curved inward. “Are you okay? You don’t quite seem yourself today.”
“I’m fine,” she lied, praying the smile she was giving him seemed legit.
Her dad shook his head. “I hope you aren’t coming down with a cold. Have you been wearing your coat?” He looked at Grant. “I swear, that girl has never worn a winter coat like she should. Ever since she was a little girl, her mother and I have had to get on to her about the dangers of being stuck in the cold without proper clothing. Well, I’m sure you know, with your training and such. Hypothermia is nothing to mess around with.”
“No, sir,” Grant agreed. “It’s not.”
His deep voice rumbled from beside her, and Brynnon could swear she could feel it vibrating through her. A familiar tingling began to spread in her lower belly, making it difficult not to react.
Seriously?
Her father was treating her as if she were a child, and Grant was going right along with it and still her body was reacting to him. It was like every time the man opened his mouth to speak Brynnon instantly thought of sex.
It didn’t matter what he was saying, either. God, that was frustrating. It was also weird, given that her dad was less than five feet away from them both.
“I wore my coat today, Dad.” She tried not to snap. “Ask Grant. He could probably even tell you its color.”
Brynnon looked over at him for the first time since he’d entered the room. She half-expected him to lie about her earlier behavior. Instead, he backed her up...and then some.
With his eyes still on her, he nodded. “She did. It’s dark green.”
“See?” Brynnon gave her father an I-told-you-so look. “I—”
“It has six buttons down the front,” Grant cut her off, his eyes remaining locked with hers while he continued giving the detailed description. “At the top”—he brushed one of his hands across his collarbone—“there’s an oversized collar that folds down with two long straps connected to its hood. It comes in at the waist and the bottom flares out, stopping about mid-calf.”
Brynnon stared back at him in silence. She wasn’t sure what her dad was thinking, but she found it fascinating. And a total turn-on.
“Excellent attention to detail, son.” Her father finally broke the silence. “They teach you that in BUD/s?”
Grant blinked, breaking their connection. “Among other things.” He looked back at her father.
“You know, I wanted to go into the military. Even signed the dotted line.”
“What happened?”
“Flat feet,” Brynnon answered for her dad. She’d heard the story enough times she knew it by heart.
Her dad chuckled. “Can you believe that?”
“Yes, sir. Actually, I can.” In typical, Grant fashion, he kept his tone flat. Even.
It sure wasn’t flat when he was yelling at you for flirting. Determined to let it go and smooth things over with him, Brynnon decided to use the odd conversation as a starting point.
“Do they still do that?” She directed the question to him. “Not let people join the military if they have flat feet?”
Grant’s large shoulder rose and fell as he brought his eyes back to hers. “Depends. Used to be an automatic red stamp.”
“But not anymore?”
“Some branches accept it more easily than others. Just depends on whether or not the candidate has any debilitating symptoms related to the issue. If they can’t stand for long periods or have back pain when they walk or run long distances, they’re usually out. But they also look at which branch and job the individual is interested in. If it’s one that involves more sitting than standing, for example, they may let it slide.”
“Interesting.”
Grant’s forehead creased as though he was surprised by her comment. “Is it?”
Unable to keep up with the charade, Brynnon shook her head. “No,” she snickered. “Not really. I mean, come on. We’re talking about feet.”
Warmth seeped into his eyes, along with a tiny spark of light. She could have sworn he was about to smile back, but a loud voice interrupted the moment.
“Look who I found!”
All heads turned to the two men who’d just entered the room.
Martin Downing, the man who spoke, had worked for her father for years. First, as his personal assistant at the construction company her dad used to own. Then after he sold that business and became Senator, her father made Martin his Chief of Staff.
At thirty-two—only three years older than Brynnon—most women found his square jaw, dark brown hair, and eyes, and winning smile attractive. She had, too, until Martin opened his mouth and ruined it.
For her father’s sake, Brynnon had learned to play nice with the condescending jerk. In truth, she couldn’t stand the guy.
Next to Martin stood her brother, Billy. On the outside, he was a handsome, successful entrepreneur. Unfortunately, Brynnon was more than a little aware of the internal struggles the man faced but wouldn’t admit.
Billy was tall and lean, his features long and sharp. His reddish-brown hair, full lips, and green eyes, which were identical to Brynnon’s, had made many a girl swoon. That, and his natural charisma.
The guy could charm the pants off almost any woman he met...and probably had. He was always smiling and joking, entertaining whoever was around to listen with his witty humor. But, Brynnon knew it was all a big show. She’d seen his other side, and it wasn’t pretty.
“Billy.” Brynnon’s dad gave her brother a tight smile. “You decided to join us, after all.”
“Yeah, sorry I’m late. There was a wreck on the highway. Traffic was backed up for over an hour.”
“You couldn’t call?” Brynnon asked, not bothering to hide her annoyance. Her brother had no respect for anyone's schedule but his own.
Billy’s green eyes met hers. “Hey, sis. You know, I would have, but my phone died.”
“Right.” Brynnon rolled her eyes and took a drink of her tea.
“It did!” her brother insisted. Noticing the man sitting next to her, he tipped his chin in Grant’s direction. “Who the hell are you?”
“Jesus, Billy,” Brynnon chastised him. “Rude much?”
He scoffed. “What? I can’t ask who the strange man sitting next to my sister is?”
“Your sister’s right. You could at least try to be a little more tactful.” Her dad shook his head before looking at Gr
ant. “I apologize for my son.”
Billy rolled his eyes. “I don’t need you to apologize for me, Dad. I’m not twelve.”
Her father pressed his lips together. “Then stop acting as if you were.”
Deciding it was time to step in, Brynnon said, “Billy, this is Grant. Grant, meet my brother, Billy.”
“Wow.” Billy walked around the table to where she and Grant were sitting. “It’s been a long time since Bryn brought a boyfriend home to meet the family.” When Grant stood to shake Billy’s hand, her brother leaned toward him and fake-whispered, “Between you and me, my sister has a tendency to run men off. Not sure why. Could be the stick she has shoved up her ass, but who knows. Either way, I wouldn’t get too comfortable if I were you.”
Mortified that her brother would say something so demeaning, Brynnon swung her eyes to his. “What the hell?”
Hating that Grant had to bear witness to her shitshow of a brother, she felt a familiar warmth spreading through her cheeks. Brynnon glared at Billy, letting him know without words he’d better knock it off.
“That’s quite enough, William,” her father intervened.
Typical Billy, he simply laughed and slapped Grant on the shoulder. He then turned to Brynnon. “Oh, I’m just teasin’. You know I love you, sis.” Leaning down, he kissed the top of her head before walking back around to take his seat.
Brynnon gave Grant a quick glance before staring back down at her plate and muttering, “Sorry.”
He put his arm across the top of her chair, his natural heat warming her upper back as he leaned toward her. With his lips precariously close to her ear, he whispered, “Nothing you need to apologize for, Princess.”
Surprisingly, his use of the nickname didn’t bother her like before. Maybe it was the softer tone he’d used or the way his hot breath and lips had brushed against her ear when he spoke. Either way, her heart began beating a little faster.
Forgetting how close they still were, Brynnon turned her head to thank him. When she did, their noses nearly touched. She should have pulled away but was too entranced by the way his pupils had begun to dilate. A classic sign of arousal.
Brynnon inhaled quickly, the catch in her breath breaking whatever spell they’d both been under.
Looking as taken aback as she felt, Grant practically jerked away, returning his attention to the three men sitting across from them.
Thankfully, Martin, Billy, and her father had all been focused on their own conversation and hadn’t noticed the exhilarating exchange.
“So Brynnon.” Martin’s smooth voice matched his TV-ready smile. “Your father tells me you sold another house. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Brynnon returned a forced smile.
“It’s good to know your little business is holding its own.”
Beneath the table, Brynnon’s fist tightened in her lap. Sensing her struggle to maintain her cool, Grant discretely reached over and covered her hand with his.
Under his breath, he whispered, “Easy.”
It all went completely unnoticed by the others, but Brynnon couldn’t help but be appreciative.
Feeling more in control now, she forced her lips into a smile. “Actually, Martin, my little business is doing much more than just holding its own.”
“Of course, it is.” He smiled arrogantly. “I’d expect nothing less from you.”
Rather than respond to the jerk’s fake compliment, Brynnon started to introduce him to Grant. “Martin, this is—”
“Mr. Hill,” he cut her off. “Good to see you again.”
“Downing.”
Confused for a moment, Brynnon looked back and forth between the two men before realizing her mistake. “Oh, of course. You two have already met.”
“We have.” Martin nodded. “Your man, here, does good work.”
“Oh, he’s not my—”
“Bodyguard?” His pristinely manicured brows turned inward as he glanced at her father. “I thought you hired him to look out for Brynnon after receiving that last threat.”
“I did. That’s why he’s with her now.”
“Dad’s making you have a bodyguard again?” Billy grinned over at her. “Better you than me.”
Brynnon’s eyes flew to her brother’s. “Wait. You don’t have one, too?”
“Nope.”
She shot her dad a look. “Seriously?”
“We’ve discussed this before, sweetheart. You know how Billy is. He’s given every guard I’ve hired the slip within the first twenty-four hours. Frankly, it’s a waste of money.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Ah, come on, sis,” Billy popped a green bean in his mouth. “Don’t be mad. Dad just knows I can take care of myself.”
“Are you implying I can’t?”
Billy looked at Grant. “I’m sure my sister doesn’t mean to sound ungrateful for your services. She’s just pissed because she’s the baby, which means she gets special treatment.”
“That’s not true!” Brynnon nearly yelled.
“Whatever. You’ve always been a daddy’s girl.”
“Yeah? And you were a mama’s boy!”
The room went silent. Realizing what she’d just said made Brynnon want to crawl in a hole somewhere and never come out.
“Billy, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to say that.”
In typical Billy fashion, he blew it off with a grin. “Ain’t no thing, Sis.” Standing, he looked to their father. “I just remembered I have somewhere to be.”
Guilt shot through Brynnon’s heart. “You’re leaving?”
The performance began again. “As much fun as this little family reunion has been, I do have a personal life I can’t ignore. Who knows? This girl may be the one.” He gave Grant a wink. “Guard my sister’s body well.” Turning to the other two men in the room, he tipped his head. “Dad. Martin. Enjoyable, as always.”
Without another word, he walked out of the room.
Brynnon shot up from her chair and began speed-walking after him. Luckily, she was able to catch up before he reached the other end of the long hall.
“Billy, wait!”
Her brother stopped and turned, his smile not nearly as brilliant as before. “What is it, Brynnon?”
“I’m sorry about what I said in there. I didn’t mean to bring Mom into it.”
“It’s okay.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “I started it.”
He turned away, but Brynnon stopped him with a hand to his arm. “I’m serious. I’ve been under a lot of stress getting my last house ready to sell, plus trying to sell my condo and get my cabin ready, but...that’s no excuse.”
“Yeah, well, I deserved it after what I said to your boyfriend in there.”
“He’s not my—”
“I’m teasing. Geez. Maybe that’s what you need to help with all this stress.”
“What?”
“To get laid.”
“Billy!” Brynnon smacked his upper arm, ignoring the image of Grant’s face flashing through her mind.
Despite the spat they’d just had, both siblings began to chuckle. Brynnon looked up at her brother. “I miss this. Us. We should get together for lunch. Just me and you.”
“What about your watchdog?”
“He can sit at another table or outside in his truck. I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.” Brynnon gave her brother a hug. “I love you, you big jerk.”
“Love ya, too, Sis,” he hugged her back. “Uh, oh. I think that’s my cue.”
“What?” Brynnon pulled away. Noticing her brother’s gaze was focusing on something behind her, she turned around to find Grant strolling toward them.
She looked at her brother again, but he was already walking toward the front door. “I’m serious about getting together soon!” she hollered after him.
With a casual wave in the air, Billy hollered back, “Call me.”
She watched her brother walk around the corner and out of her sight.
“You
okay?”
Drawing in a slow, deep breath, Brynnon took a second to compose herself. Between their earlier argument, her brother’s ridiculous behavior, and her overactive hormones, she wasn’t sure what she was.
“You worried about me, big guy?” She turned to face him.
“It’s in my job description.”
There it was again. The job. Tired of feeling like she was walking on eggshells around the man, Brynnon decided to go for broke and just ask.
“Is that all I am to you, Grant? A job?”
Not expecting the question, Grant blinked. He opened his mouth to answer, but closed it. When he started to open it again, Brynnon realized hearing the truth would be worse than not knowing. At least if she didn’t actually hear him say it, she could still hang on to the fantasy a little longer.
“Never mind.” She shook her head. “Forget I said anything.” Stepping past him, Brynnon started back for the dining room. “We still have to go to the hospital after this and I can’t be late, so we should probably—”
A large hand grabbed her wrist, interrupting both her words and her forward progress. Glancing down to where his fingers gently held her, Brynnon tried to ignore the electrical current burning its way through her thin sweater.
“Brynnon, wait.”
Grant must have felt the same, thrilling jolt because he let go of her arm as though she’d shocked him. He does feel it.
“I’m not...” he started to speak. Brynnon watched his large Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed before beginning again. “I’m not the man for you.”
She forced herself not to react to those disappointing words. “Really?” Brynnon stepped closer. “Tell me, Grant. What kind of man do you think I need?”
He shook his head, and for a minute, Brynnon expected him to shut down and walk away. Instead, he stared down at her, showing a side of himself she thought she’d never see.
“I want you, Princess.” Heat flared behind his gray eyes. “I shouldn’t, but I do.”
Holy crap. “W-why shouldn’t you want me?”