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Best Man for Hire

Page 13

by Tawna Fenske


  He couldn’t name it, but he knew it. He’d felt it too, goddammit.

  Stop this now, he commanded himself, not sure if he meant the thoughts or this thing with Anna. Probably both.

  Grant kicked up his pace to a punishing speed, running out onto the loose sand until his lungs and his calves were screaming. By the time he’d finished his run, he was breathing hard and drenched in sweat.

  He doubled over, anchoring his palms on his knees, fighting to catch his breath as he dripped sweat into the sand. He should have at least brought a shirt so he had something to mop his face with. He could cool off with a dip in the ocean, or maybe he could run back to his place and take a cool shower with Anna pressed against him, slick and soapy and laughing as she twirled under the spray.

  No. No swimming. No cool showers with beautiful women.

  You don’t deserve any of that.

  Grant winced as his phone vibrated on his arm.

  Anna, he thought, fumbling it out of the pouch.

  “Mac” the readout said, and Grant tried not to feel disappointed.

  “Hey,” he said , his breathing still labored from the run. “What’s up?”

  “Please tell me you’re not answering the phone in the middle of something sweaty and illicit.”

  “Sweaty, yes. Illicit, no. Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “I hope you didn’t leave your houseguest alone and in need of medical attention.”

  “She’s asleep,” Grant muttered, not bothering to ask how Mac knew Anna had stayed the night. Somehow, Mac knew everything.

  Maybe not everything.

  “So is there a reason you’re calling so early?” Grant asked, trying to keep his tone upbeat. “I mean besides harassing me about Anna?”

  “I seem to recall you harassing me in a similar fashion only a few months ago. Married life is good; you should try it sometime.”

  “I’ll leave that to the rest of the Patton siblings.”

  “That’s actually why I’m calling. Mom issued an order last night.”

  “Someone gave her missile launch codes again?”

  “Not missiles. Worse. She wants all of her children present at Sheridan’s wedding. You know what that means.”

  Grant resisted the urge to groan. He closed his eyes and concentrated on not balling his fists at his sides. “Why do you need me? You’ve been able to burrow your way into everything from military personnel files to police records for every man Sheri ever dated.”

  “And yet, our brother’s location eludes me. You’re the only one who knows where he is, Grant.”

  “We haven’t spoken for a long time.”

  “And you’re the only one who knows why that is. It’s none of my business.”

  “Like that’s ever stopped you from meddling before.”

  “Please reach out to him, Grant. It would mean a lot to Sheri. And to Mom.”

  Grant closed his eyes again, listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the shore behind him. He took a deep breath and nodded, even though he knew Mac couldn’t see him. Or hell, maybe he could. Mac seemed to know everything.

  Not this.

  “Fine. I’ll do what I can.”

  “That’s all we can ask. Now get back and attend to your guest.”

  “Who put you in charge of the universe?”

  “I did,” Mac said and hung up.

  Grant grunted at the dead air, then drew the phone from his ear and stared at it a few beats. Then he pulled up the keypad for dialing.

  Schwartz’s number wasn’t in his contacts list. Mac was too smart for that, and Grant was much too careful. The only place it existed was in the recesses of his brain.

  He sighed and punched in the first few digits. He closed his eyes, hesitating. Then he punched in the rest of the numbers. Pressing the phone against his ear, he listened to the hollow sound of the ring. It trilled once, then twice. Grant’s hands were shaking, and his throat felt too tight.

  The call clicked over to voicemail.

  “It’s me. You know what to do.”

  Then a beep, followed by silence.

  “Hey,” Grant said, annoyed at the waver in his voice. “It’s me. Grant.” He shook his head, not sure if he was lame for identifying himself, or presumptuous for thinking he might not have to. “Look, Sheri’s getting married in a few days. You’d really like the guy she’s marrying, Sam? The whole family would really love it if you could make it. I know you don’t get out much, but—”

  He stopped himself, realizing how idiotic he sounded. What did he really know, anyway?

  “So it would be really great if you’d come. She’s still living on Kauai, and the service is at Kauai Christian Fellowship at three o’clock on Saturday the twenty-ninth. Call me if you want details, okay?”

  He hesitated, ready to switch off the call. Then he cleared his throat. “I miss you.”

  His hands felt cold as he disconnected the call. He stuffed the phone back into his armband and ran hard all the way home. As he unlocked the door, he felt himself pasting a Boy Scout smile into place. The woodsy, grassy smell of the body wash he kept in his shower hung in the air, and Grant pictured Anna standing towel-dried and barefoot in the kitchen, naked beneath one of his dress shirts.

  You don’t own any dress shirts, idiot.

  Probably needed to remedy that before Sheri’s wedding.

  “Anna?” he called, heart pounding as he rounded the corner to the kitchen. That’s when he realized there was no scent of coffee in the air. His coffee cup was right where he’d left it, untouched.

  Wait, it had definitely been touched. He peered at the note. A scrawl of loopy, girlie handwriting filled the space beneath his words. He picked up the note and read.

  Grant, Thank you for the kind gesture, but I’m afraid I’m not much of a coffee drinker. I know I can lose my Portland residency for that, but I’m more of a hot tea kind of girl. I’m heading out to find some, then off to an early meeting with your mom and sister. Let’s catch up later to talk about the paintball wedding.

  There was a string of xoxoxoxo and Grant tried to remember which one was the sign for hugs and which one for kisses.

  It doesn’t matter, idiot. You don’t deserve any of them.

  He crumpled the note and trudged down the hall to wash the scent of her off his skin.

  …

  Anna glanced at her watch, relieved to see she was ten minutes early. Janelle plunked down in the seat beside her, her coffee cup clattering in its saucer as she stirred in a giant spoonful of sugar.

  “They’re not here yet, so dish,” Janelle whispered. “Did you sleep with him? How was he? Did you come?”

  “Shh!” Anna looked around the coffee shop, grateful no one had turned to stare. She looked back at her sister and shook her head. “His mom and his sister will be here any minute. You really think this is the right time to discuss Grant’s prowess in the sack?”

  “Good point,” Janelle said, blowing on her coffee. “We should wait till they get here. They’ll probably want details, too.”

  Anna flipped open her wedding notebook and glared at her sister. “What makes you so sure I slept with him? Maybe he just played nursemaid to me all night and made sure I didn’t have any reactions to the centipede bite.”

  “Please. I saw the way that man looked at you all day. Like you were a gooey Danish and he’d been starving for a week.”

  “Thank you for that image.” Still, Anna couldn’t help but smile a little at the thought.

  “So tell me all about it,” Janelle said. “He looks like he’d be amazing in the sack.”

  Anna tried to look stern, but the corners of her mouth turned up completely against her will. Janelle squealed and elbowed her in the ribs.

  “I knew it! He’s totally hot. And definitely not the type to try to railroad you into marriage and babies and all that other shit you don’t want.”

  “Right,” Anna said, digging out her clicky pen and two notebooks packed with in
formation about Sheridan Patton’s wedding plans. “He’s definitely not that type.”

  She kept her eyes on the notebook, ignoring the funny feeling in her gut as she picked up her Earl Grey and took a sip. Janelle stirred some more creamer into her coffee and sighed.

  “Good for you knowing exactly what you want and going after it. Or what you don’t want, I guess I should say. Just give me a little dirt, Anna-Banana—was he rough and dirty, or sweet and gentle?”

  Anna bit her lip and tried not to smile.

  “Both?” Janelle clapped her hands together with glee. “I knew it. He’s perfect in bed, too?”

  “Shh!” Anna glanced to the left, then to the right, hoping like hell no one could hear them. “His mom and sister will be here any minute.”

  “What? Every mother wants to know she raised her son to be a considerate lover who’s attentive to his partner’s orgasm.”

  “Who’s attentive to his partner’s orgasm?”

  Anna closed her eyes and willed the ground to swallow her up. Beside her, Janelle whispered, “Oops,” and slunk down in her chair.

  Opening her eyes, Anna stood up and turned to greet Grant’s sister, mother, and the maid of honor. It was the latter who stood beaming at Anna, waiting for a response to the question.

  “Kelli,” Anna said, giving her old friend a hug and a subtle death glare before turning to greet the bride and her mother. “Can I get you ladies anything? Coffee? Tea?”

  “The skinny on who you slept with,” Kelli said, plunking down in a chair beside Anna and grinning. “You’re sitting down to breakfast with a newlywed and a soon-to-be newlywed, which means we’re pretty much sex obsessed. Come on, dish a little so we can hear about someone’s sex life besides our own.”

  Sheri rolled her eyes at her best friend’s brazenness as she gave Anna a warm hug. Anna glanced at the mother of the bride, who looked surprisingly unruffled by the discussion. Catching Anna’s look of alarm, Stella waved a hand in the air.

  “Please, dear. With Kelli as my daughter-in-law, you don’t honestly think I’m offended by a little frank discussion of human sexuality? Besides, I raised all my sons and daughter to be comfortable with the subject and the way their bodies function.”

  “She used G.I. Joe and my Wonder Woman action figure to act out scenes from How Babies are Made,” Sheri said helpfully, signaling the waitress for a cup of coffee as she sat down beside Kelli. “Wonder Woman held on to her battle-ax the whole time, and G.I. Joe had an AK-47 strapped to his back.”

  “This explains a lot about Patton sexuality,” Kelli said, grabbing a sugar packet from the middle of the table as the waitress began pouring coffee all around. Anna placed a hand over her teacup so she wouldn’t be added to the lineup of coffee refills. “I have finally gotten Mac to remove the ankle holster before coming to bed, so that’s progress,” Kelli continued. “Of course he almost lost a toe the other day when the knife he’d stashed behind our headboard came crashing down as he tossed me on the bed. Note to all women bedding Patton men: frisk them well before you take your clothes off.”

  Anna swallowed and struggled to come up with a good way to change the subject. She clicked her pen at a frantic pace, her other palm sweating as she pressed it against the cover of her notebook. Beside her, Janelle made a feeble effort to divert the conversation.

  “The weather sure is nice today. Do you think—”

  “There is a certain glow about you this morning, Anna,” Stella said, eyeing her up and down over the rim of her coffee cup. “Either you’re coming down with something, or merely coming. Which is it, dear?”

  “Mom!” Sheri rolled her eyes and shot Anna a sympathetic look. “You’ve been spending too much time with Kelli. Can we please not badger my wedding planner about her sex life?”

  “Very well, dear,” Stella said, glancing at Anna once more. She sipped her coffee again and offered a coy smile. “But don’t think for a moment I didn’t notice the fragrance of my son’s favorite body wash emanating from your person. Now, is everything all squared away with the floral arrangements?”

  Anna opened her mouth to reply, her cheeks flaming as she flipped through the notebook to find the right page. Beside her, Kelli was practically bouncing in her seat.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” she called, making a T with one hand perpendicular atop the other. “Time out here. Anna, you’re sleeping with Grant?”

  Janelle grinned and bounced right along with Kelli. “If this is all out in the open now, do we at least get to know details?”

  “Oh, for the love of God.” Anna dropped her pen on the table and covered her face with her hands. “Please say we’re not really having this conversation in front of my client, her maid of honor, and the mother of the bride who won a military medal for marksmanship.”

  “Three medals, dear,” Stella said. “But that’s beside the point. I can’t say I’m terribly surprised. Grant did seem awfully taken with you when I spoke with him on the phone a few days ago.”

  “He mentioned me?” Anna pried her hands away from her face and blinked at Stella, her urge to know details overpowering her urge to crawl under the table. “What did he say?”

  “Just that he was quite looking forward to doing some photography work with Sheridan’s wedding planner, and that he enjoyed your company over dinner the other night. Obviously, I wasn’t aware of the extent to which he enjoyed it, but it all makes sense now.”

  Anna swallowed, studying Stella’s face for any sign of judgment or anger. There was none, which didn’t necessarily mean anything. The Patton family was notoriously difficult to read.

  “He’s a truly talented photographer,” Anna said, picking up her pen again. “The images he captured yesterday are breathtaking.”

  “Sounds like that’s not the only thing Grant’s got that’s taking your breath away,” Kelli said, grinning. “Seriously, those hands. Stella, did you take some sort of performance-enhancing drugs during pregnancy to ensure your sons all had hands the size of catcher’s mitts?”

  Janelle giggled. “You know what they say about men with big hands.”

  “And I can assure you it’s true,” Kelli said, lifting her coffee mug in a mock toast while Stella regarded her new daughter-in-law like some sort of colorful exotic bird.

  Stella took another sip of coffee, then turned back to Anna. “So when you saw him this morning, did he happen to mention if he reached Schwartz?”

  “Schwartz?” Anna shook her head, not sure whether to press for information or to feel guilty for intruding on Grant’s personal life more than she already had. It wasn’t every day she followed up a passionate romp by having breakfast with the man’s entire tribe of female relations. “We, uh, didn’t cross paths this morning. He got up early to run, and I had to leave before he got back so we could make it to this meeting.” Anna swallowed and pushed her notebook across the table. “So if you’ll look here at page thirty-six, these are the flowers we’ll be—”

  “Grant’s asking Schwartz to come?” Sheri flashed a hopeful smile at her mother. “Wow, it’s been years. I’m not even sure I’d recognize him.”

  “I wouldn’t get my hopes up, dear,” Stella said, patting her daughter’s hand. “Still, if anyone can talk him into it, it’s Grant.”

  Anna felt an odd swell of pride that made zero sense. Grant wasn’t hers, and she had no idea what they’d been talking about. Still, she couldn’t resist the urge to pry just a little. “Grant and Schwartz are close?”

  “They were inseparable as kids,” Sheri said, looking a little wistful. “Not as much after Schwartz’s accident.”

  “Accident?”

  “His Humvee hit an IED in Iraq,” Stella said, looking down at her hands. “Schwartz’s entire unit was killed, and he was badly injured. Still walks with a bit of a limp when he’s anyplace humid, but other than that, he ultimately recovered—physically, anyway.”

  “Emotionally, he’s the human equivalent of an iceberg,” Sheri added. “He’s basically
a hermit. None of us even knows where he’s living right now.”

  “Except for Grant,” Anna added, and Stella nodded.

  “But even that connection is shaky at best.” Her usual stoic expression had been replaced by something more maternal, more haunted. Anna ached to reach across the table and squeeze her hand, but she held back.

  Sheri pulled the notebook in front of her and pressed her palm against a page containing photos of colorful floral arrangements. “It would be great if Schwartz made it to the wedding, but I won’t hold my breath.”

  “At least you know he’ll send a gift,” Kelli offered. “I’ve never even met the guy and he sent flowers for my birthday last month, plus he found out where we were honeymooning in Greece and had a gift certificate waiting in our hotel room so we could take a romantic sunset cruise.”

  “All my kids are thoughtful,” Stella said proudly. “And excellent shots.”

  “Huh,” Anna said, trying to imagine this mysterious, reclusive brother and connect the dots between Grant’s cheerful Boy Scout demeanor. It made no sense. Then again, control-freak Mac didn’t seem to have much in common with either brother.

  Still, something told her there was more to this story. And maybe it was connected to Grant’s incessant need to be perfect.

  “Well, Stella,” Anna said brightly. “You’ve certainly bred a diverse batch of offspring.”

  “You don’t know the half of it, dear.” Stella smiled and signaled the waitress for more coffee. “And they’re proving to have entertaining choices in mates.”

  Her gaze held Anna’s for a few beats longer than comfortable. Anna swallowed and looked away, flipping open a blank notebook and scribbling a single word in the margin.

  Desiderium she wrote, reminding herself to google the title Grant had given to that file full of photos.

  She took a deep breath and clicked her pen again.

  Chapter Eleven

  Grant watched Anna as she handed an envelope to the caterer and said farewell. She was covered from head to toe with splotches of red and blue paint, and her hair stuck to the sides of her flushed cheeks.

 

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