I bit my lip, grinning at my victory.
Henry threw up his hands. “They could be anywhere.” Turning for the door, he grumbled, “I’m going to find some pliers.” He loved his long morning showers and was clearly prepared to do anything to get his fix.
When he disappeared out the door, Mac turned to me, her mouth open in what looked like wonder. “You stole the shower taps?”
My response was another grin. I slid out of bed, my feet hitting plush cream carpet. Crouching down, I lifted my mattress, showing her the taps that I’d wedged underneath.
“When did you do that?”
“Last night,” I replied, smug. “When you were all stumbling to bed. It only took a minute.” Reaching in, I grabbed them and held them out to her. “Here. You can go first if you like?”
“You …” Mac looked from the taps in my outstretched hands to my face. “Teach me,” she breathed as she took them, clutching them to her chest like a pair of Manolo Blahniks. “I need to know all your tricks.”
I flopped back on the bed. “I have a few more up my sleeve. Henry will soon regret asking me to stay.”
“Rubbish. Henry needs you here keeping him on his toes.” Mac shuffled over and sat down beside me. “I’ll be honest with you, Grace. I feel like he’s slowly losing his way. Like the bigger the band is getting, the more he’s withdrawing. I don’t know why. I can’t put my finger on what it is, and I admit we’ve all been so busy I’ve let it slide hoping something would change, but it hasn’t. That was why I jumped all over the idea of having you here. I’m not good at all those bullshit heart-to-heart talks. Maybe you can do what I can’t.”
“Oh.” I exhaled at Mac’s admission. It felt strange that I had no clue what was going on in his life. “I honestly don’t know, Mac. I’ll talk to him while I’m here.”
“Thanks, Grace.” She patted my leg before getting to her feet. “I better get in the shower before Henry finds those pliers.”
Mac left the room and I picked up my crumpled pile of sheets off the floor. Shaking them out, I put them back on the bed and crawled back underneath them, planning to doze while Mac was in the shower. As soon as I closed my eyes I saw Casey, anger making his eyes sharp as he led me from our table last night. His big, warm palm clutched me to him as we wound our way through tables before eventually ending up in some dingy, badly lit corridor.
“I’ll get you back for this when you least expect it, Beanhead,” Henry growled, once again interrupting my reverie of last night.
“Uh oh.” I whipped the covers off my face, hair falling in my eyes as I gave Henry a look of mock fear, his empty hands evidence that he had no luck finding a pair of pliers. “I know you mean business when you resort to nasty name calling. I’m scared.”
He flopped on the bed beside me as the tinkling sound of water came from the shower. Mac had obviously screwed the taps back on and was taking advantage of Henry’s unexpected misfortune. “You mock me, Grace, but this is war now, you understand.” Lifting the sheets, he crawled underneath and pulled them up over his chest.
Thinking of Mac’s plea to “teach her,” I laughed. “You know what they say. The best weapon against an enemy is another enemy. I think it’s pretty obvious I got that covered.”
“Yeah?” Henry raised his brows. “You know what else they say? Sometimes we need to lose the small battles in order to win the war.”
My breath hitched because Henry’s words reminded me my own war was coming and I’d be fighting it alone. Knowing he was watching me, I forced a smile. “That’s a good one, Henry.”
He grinned. “I thought so.” After a quiet moment, Henry yawned and said, “You did good last night. You only stumbled over a few chords and no one noticed. “Wild heart” was probably one of our most complicated songs, so if you can master that in one afternoon, the rest should be a piece of cake. We’ll practice every day, starting with the set list for this coming weekend.”
“Today too?”
“No. Mondays and Tuesdays are usually our days off from everything, but with Frog out of action, we’ll start rehearsing Tuesdays so we can get you up to date on the songs.”
“Sounds good.” When I realised I couldn’t hear the shower running anymore, I began inching unobtrusively off the bed. “Oh hey, I wanted to ask, the big, blue Hilux I saw in the drive yesterday … that’s Evie’s car, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
I feigned a stretch. It gave me a credible excuse for gaining a better position to beat Henry for the bathroom. “I wanted to buy a bicycle.” That was a total lie but the idea was to distract him with conversation. “I thought it would be a cool way to exercise and I could ride to the beach and stuff. I can’t do that from my inner city apartment in Melbourne. I’d get mowed down by cars.”
“That sounds good, Grace. I’ll give you her number if you don’t have it and you can call her this morning. I don’t think she’s doing anything today.”
“Thanks, Henry.”
The sound of the bathroom door opening was loud. Henry leaped into action, bounding off the bed with legs like springs. Damn him. He’d always been quicker than me, hence having to resort to more subtle ways of subterfuge when we were growing up.
Mac strolled into my room in a short satin robe with her wet hair wrapped up in a towel. Henry paused, his eyes narrowing as he took in the shower taps in her hand. She tossed them towards me with a wink. “Shower’s all yours, Grace.”
I caught them at the same time my phone beeped a message from the bedside table. Sliding on a pair of black-framed reading glasses, I hugged the taps to my chest and picked up the phone with my free hand. The screen highlighted a message originating from Batman. Considering I wasn’t acquainted with the real Bruce Wayne, it knew it could only be his imposter.
I swiped the screen, squinting a little because there were two deep cracks in it, and read the message.
Sorry about last night, Slim.
Damn straight he should be sorry after—
“Who the fuck is Batman and why is he sorry about last night?”
“Huh?” I glanced up at Henry’s livid tone, realising he was reading over my shoulder. I moved the phone away from his prying eyes.
“That’s not from Casey, is it?”
My brows flew up. “How did you know it was Casey?”
“Slim. He’s the only one I’ve heard call you that.” Henry set his jaw. “Stay away from him, Grace.”
I suspected Henry’s warning stemmed from Casey’s volatile behaviour so I didn’t question it. Standing up, I replied with, “Whatever you say, Henry,” as I headed for the bathroom with the shower taps.
After messaging Grace, I pocketed my phone and walked through the entrance of our Darlinghurst office. It was late. Midday already. I was usually the only partner who worked Mondays, but if I did security on a Sunday night, which wasn’t often, I usually slept in and only worked half a day.
Today I hadn’t slept in at all, yet I was late anyway. I’d woken at five a.m. with morning wood that was painful. Knowing it wouldn’t go away, I pushed my boxer-briefs down and wrapped a fist around my hard cock, giving a couple of hard, purposeful tugs.
Wild, stormy eyes flooded my mind, forcing a rush of blood that had my hips arching upwards. I groaned audibly as my fist moved up and down, stroking in rough movements that I knew would get me off quickly. My thumb slipped over the head, imagining it was Grace touching me, her tits brushing against my legs as she gripped me with firm hands. My stroke sped up at the image of me gripping her dark tangle of hair in my fist, forcing her head back to look at me while I thrust in and out of that smart, luscious mouth of hers.
There was no denying I wanted my hands all over her. Just the simple thought of trailing my fingers over her belly, down between her thighs, and inside made my pulse leap. Even better was imagining my mouth between her thighs, tasting her on my tongue as I rubbed it over her clit while she whimpered and clawed at my hair. The thought of her coming against my tongue
was enough to set off my own orgasm. My cock pulsed heavily and my balls grew tight as I moaned, my fist pumping as I shot all over my belly.
I lay on my back for a few minutes, catching my breath before I got up and walked naked to the bathroom to clean up. After wiping off my stomach, I brushed my teeth and washed my face to wake myself up. Done, I decided to head out for an early morning surf. The air was cool and the morning dark when I padded out to the back deck. I pulled my wetsuit from the little outdoor clothesline and tugged it up my legs, leaving the top half hanging around my waist as I grabbed my board and headed out for a surf.
The ocean was smooth like glass, which meant only the diehard surfers were out. Plunging into the icy water jumpstarted my system. The days I didn’t get to the beach in the morning were the ones where I felt sluggish and tired. Paddling past the breakers, I reached the other surfers and sat up. A few short nods were enough to acknowledge those I knew. We all sat quietly, taking in the sunrise as we drifted gently on the tide. The only sound was the lapping water and a few lone seagulls as my mind wandered back to Grace and last night.
“You’re right,” she told me. My eyes fell to her fisted hands and I realised she was distressed. “Dalton is my … was,” she corrected, “my boyfriend. He did something really shitty and I’m just not ready to deal with it, or him, just yet.”
“Grace! Where’s Dalton tonight? Are the rumours of him and British model Selena true? Is this your new boyfriend?” I shook my head, cursing under my breath. Her sudden change in demeanour made it clear these so-called rumours held a grain of truth. Had Dalton cheated on her? Clenching my jaw, I unlocked the screen of Grace’s phone and jabbed in the year of her birth, unsurprised when I received immediate access. Let him ring. I’ll deal with him instead.
But first things first, Grace needed to tell me what was going on. Not wanting to have the conversation in a public arena, I pocketed Grace’s phone and pretty much dragged her from the table. Having already memorised the building layout from the brief, I led her straight to the nearest quiet corridor.
Spinning her around, I let go. She was panting a little and my eyes fell to her chest. Even with anger stirring my blood, so did the lust.
“Dammit,” I growled, needing to let go of the attraction but not knowing how. I cracked my knuckles a couple of times. Grace winced at the sound so I folded my arms instead. “What did Dalton do, Grace?”
She lifted her chin. “It’s really none of your business, is it?”
I stared at the floor intently, arms still folded as I nodded in agreement. Of course it was none of my business, but that wasn’t going to stop me from digging for answers. “Did he hurt you?”
“So what if he did? Why do you even care? We hardly know each other.”
That was a good question. I wish I knew how to answer it.
Grace’s phone started ringing in my back pocket. Satisfaction ran through my veins when I pulled it out and saw Dalton’s name on the screen.
Her eyes fell to the phone. “Don’t you even— Goddammit, Casey!” she yelled when I tapped the accept button and put the phone to my ear.
“Grace! Thank God!” came the male voice in my ear. Grace froze. Her eyes locked on mine and all I could see was hurt. It fed the anger burning in my chest knowing this man put that look on her face. “You haven’t been answering your phone.”
“Is this Dalton?” I asked.
There was a pause. “Who the fuck is this?”
“That’s not your concern,” I replied as I held Grace’s eyes with mine. Our contact proved impossible to break. “What is your concern is what I’ll do to you if you keep calling Grace. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“What the … Are you fucking kidding me? Put Grace on the phone. Now!” he demanded.
Grace backed up a step, her wide eyes frantic as she shook her head. “I said I wasn’t ready to talk to him!”
“Is that her? Grace!” Dalton yelled.
I shook my head. “She doesn’t want to talk to you, mate, so stop bothering her.”
“She’s my fucking girlfriend, mate. It’s not harassment if all I want to do is talk to her on the phone. Is this about Selena?”
There was a pause when I didn’t answer the question.
“Goddammit. It is, isn’t it? I wouldn’t have fucked her if Grace wasn’t such a cold bitch.”
Grace flinched, obviously hearing his loud words in the quiet corridor. She flushed, soft colour slowly rising in her face before she turned away, hugging her body with obvious embarrassment.
Sonofabitch! My hand gripped the phone so tight it should’ve pulverised into dust. Did he not even know his own girlfriend? In a short space of time, I’d already seen Grace passionate, fiery, funny, and considerate. The one thing she hadn’t been was cold. The fucktard must be living in a parallel dimension.
“If that’s what you think,” I bit out, “then you don’t really know Grace at all, do you?”
“You obviously haven’t fucked her then. Put her on the—”
I cut him off, furious. “You useless sonofabitch! Dial this number one more time and I’ll make you wish you’d never been born.” Simply hanging up the phone wasn’t enough so I hurled it at the wall in a fit of temper. It didn’t feel as good as what punching Dalton in the face would have. There was no satisfaction in one-sided violence against inanimate objects.
The screen cracked on impact before it fell to the ground. Grace knelt, letting out a sob as she grabbed for it.
Only then did it register that I’d just thrown her phone, not my own. I opened my mouth but nothing came out.
She stood up, facing me, and her eyes were wild so I backed up a step. “Are you happy now!” she cried and shoved me in the chest with both hands. “You couldn’t let me handle it, could you? You’ve just gone and made everything worse! Arrghhhh!” Grace threw up her hands, giving me the distinct impression that I’d fucked up. Again. What the hell was wrong with me? “Just stay away from me,” she hissed, pointing a finger in my face. “After tonight, I want to forget you even exist.”
She slid the damaged phone in the pocket of her pretty blue pants and stormed off down the corridor. “Grace!” I called after her. “I’m sorry!” Without turning around, she flipped me off as she kept walking. Seeing her do that made me want to call her back and kiss her until neither of us could breathe. It took me a minute to realise she was heading in the wrong direction. “Grace!” She gave no indication she’d heard me. “You’re going the wrong way.”
After pausing for a long moment, she spun around, nostrils flaring as she stalked back towards me. My pulse sped up with every step she took. If I kissed her right now, she’d probably throw that punch she threatened me with earlier. I had to press my lips together when the thought made me grin.
Grace looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “This is funny to you?”
“No! Slim …” I reached for her.
She flinched. “Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me either. Just get me the hell out of this maze and back to the table.”
I winced at the recollection as I floated gently on my board. True to her word, Grace pretty much ignored me the rest of the night. When asked what happened to her phone, she simply said she dropped it, knowing that disclosing what really happened would only invite further questions.
Resolving to hit the shops this morning and buy her a new one, I lay down on my board and began the paddle back to shore.
“Later, Boyd!” I called out, offering a brief salute to the surfer closest to me in the water.
“Daniels.” The guy gave a short nod before returning his gaze back to the horizon. Jack Boyd was out every morning, frequenting the same surf spots I did. He seemed like a bit of a loner and I’m pretty sure I heard it mentioned he was going through a divorce. The guy seemed too young, but I guess relationship difficulties didn’t discriminate based on age.
After riding the waves to shore, I undid the leg rope and jogged up the soft sand with my boar
d. Tugging my wetsuit down halfway, I rinsed quickly under the outdoor shower, shivering as I got rid of the excess sand. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I peeled off the bottom half of my wetsuit and headed back to the car.
By the time I got home, took a hot shower, and caught up on all the shopping I needed to do, it was midday when I arrived for work.
Having messaged Grace, I walked through to the outer office where my assistant, Tim, was talking on the phone with his back turned.
“I want to do bad things with his boy parts,” I heard him hiss into the line, obviously not realising he was no longer alone. I bit the insides of my cheeks to hold back the laugh. “Are you kidding me? I would suck him so hard my eyeballs would literally pop right out of my head.” Tim paused, listening as someone on the other end spoke, before replying, “It does not make me a vampire, you ho.” Relaxing back in his chair, Tim laughed and started spinning around lazily. “You’re just a jealous bitch, Mac. I bet you wish you were the one working for—” Spying me walking through, he froze before hurriedly turning back to his desk and clearing his throat. “Thank you. I’ll make sure he returns your call,” he said into the phone and hung up. The phone started ringing again immediately and Tim ignored it, his hands twitching nervously.
“Morning, Casey,” he said, and began brushing at an imaginary piece of lint on his pants.
“Tim.” I gave him a nod as I passed through his outer office and into mine.
“Back the truck up,” he commanded, suddenly on full alert as he eyed the bags in my hand. “You went shopping?”
I turned, arching a brow as I walked backwards into my office. “Is that a problem or should I have cleared it with you first?”
He muttered something I didn’t catch. I dumped the bags near one of the cabinets by my desk and sat down, noting the cup of piss-weak coffee sitting on a coaster by my laptop. Fuck it. This ridiculous feud Tim had going on with the local barista had to stop. I vowed to go down there myself and sort it out. Just not today. Today was Monday, and Mondays were right up there with boy bands—an unbearable phenomena that kept recurring no matter how fucking horrible they were.
Give Me Grace Page 10