by KaLyn Cooper
The next several days were absolutely hectic. Between catching up from the twenty days that he was gone overseas and to Washington D.C., sickness passing like a tidal wave through his staff, and the awareness that someone may have tracked him to Florida to kill him, Griffin was absolutely exhausted by the end of the week. He glanced at his schedule and groaned.
Several months ago he had committed to accompanying the daughter of one of their biggest clients to a charity function. Several of his men were already scheduled as personal protection for the star-studded event. He unequivocally could not back out. He would be there as the date of Melanie Bayne. At the same time he would be back up for his men.
Fortunately, many of his men had recovered by Saturday. Weekends were always the busiest and that particular day was no different. Every limousine available to them was in use. Griffin felt absolutely horrible that he was not available for protection duty, but John Bayne owned several commercial businesses, warehouses at the port, and numerous rental properties, all protected by Guardian Security.
He had actually met Melanie Bayne once before while escorting one of her girlfriends. For the life of him, Griffin couldn’t remember the other girl’s name. What he did remember was that she was a very clingy date and a lousy lay. He prayed he wouldn’t run into her tonight.
When the silver Mercedes-Benz limousine pulled up to the mansion and circled around to the grand stairway leading to the double front doors, Griffin’s college years came back to him in a mental slideshow. Every time he came home his parents felt the need to hook him up with another young woman on the Georgia Social Register. It appalled him that there was an actual list of suitable women for him to date.
He wondered briefly if Miami had a social register, then waved the thought aside. If they did, his mother would already have him listed as an available bachelor. Mothers all across Miami would have been calling him to date their daughters.
Griffin trotted up the steps and rang the bell.
John answered the door himself. “Griffin, come in, son.”
Cringing at the familiarity in the older man’s voice, Griffin clamped his back teeth shut and grinned. “Good evening, Mr. Bayne.”
“Call me John,” he said with a thump on Griffin’s shoulder. “Come on in and have a drink with us. I don’t believe you’ve met my wife, Breanna.”
When they stepped into the room, the two women, elegantly dressed in glittering ball gowns, their hair stylishly swept up and curled, were engaged in quiet conversation. Mother and daughter looked very much alike. Given the gene pool, she would hold her beauty even as she held her grandchildren.
Griffin plugged in his years of social training, starting with cotillion in sixth grade when his mother bought him his first tuxedo. He currently owned six of them. Tonight he had opted for the double-breasted dark gray to match his mood. He couldn’t count the number of debutante balls he had been to, nor formals hosted by University of Georgia fraternities and sororities. The social pleasantries were practically bred into him. Sometimes he felt like one of his uncle’s fine thoroughbred race horses that his family brought out and paraded around for stud service.
Taking a deep breath, Griffin pasted on his smile and jumped into the deep end of the pool.
Her father had been on the phone most of the short trip to the venue, so in politeness they had all remained quiet. There really hadn’t been time in the car to get to know Melanie with the typical first date questions. Griffin couldn’t withhold the grin as he thought about Grace’s first date questions on their non-first date. He wondered what she was doing and where she was. He truly hoped they were successful quickly and could return to the United States soon.
The ball was like so many others. Women in diamonds and finery, men in bowties. Melanie slipped her hand into his elbow as they walked past the items available for silent auction. “You know, Griffin, we don’t have to stay here the entire time.”
She might not have to stay, but he felt obligated to be there as backup for his men.
“Mom and Dad wouldn’t mind if we cut out shortly after the speeches are over. The dancing here is going to be that 70s and 80s shit. We could hit a few clubs downtown,” she suggested. “I’m sure your company would send a car back for Mom and Dad.”
Arranging for another limousine to pick up Mr. and Mrs. Bayne wouldn’t be a problem. He could handle that with the text. He just didn’t feel like going out on a real date with her. “We can make that decision later.” He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. Trying to make conversation, he asked, “Where did you go to school?”
“Johnson Academy,” she named proudly.
“Is that a high school?” The words popped out of his mouth before he could censor them.
“Yes, are you familiar with it?” She asked innocently.
“How old are you, Melanie?” He took a good look at the woman beside him. She had the standard Miami tan, great body shown off by the designer dress, and skin obviously polished earlier that day at a spa. He was usually a good judge of age and would have sworn she was at least twenty-four.
“I turned twenty-six three months ago.” She stopped and turned toward him excitedly. “For my birthday, Mom and Dad sent me and three of my girlfriends to an Italian villa for six weeks. It was fab-u-lous. We had an absolutely awesome view of the Mediterranean and the most gorgeous pool you’ve ever seen. Have you ever been to Italy?”
“Several times.” Griffin shared some of his summer adventures in Europe. His grandparents would rent out their huge house touring the Masters tournament and leave the country. Grams preferred the Italian Riviera. Several times they had discussed buying a place of their own, but Gramps had made so many international friends while serving in Congress that they never had to pay for a place to stay. Griffin made friends there and visited them year after year so by the time they were sixteen, they had the run of Europe the way American youth would travel from state to state.
Griffin wondered if Grace had ever been to Italy. She’d really like it there. Maybe on one of their trips back from the Middle East, he could talk Alex and Katlin into spending a few days on the Mediterranean.
“So,” Melanie dragged out the word, “what do you think?”
Fuck. He lost his place in the conversation, totally blanking her out as he thought about Grace.
“I’m sorry,” he admitted. He glanced back at the carved bowl they had passed a few items before. “My mind was debating on placing a bid on this gorgeous piece of wood.” It was a lie but she didn’t have to know that.
“Oh, you really should. The craftsmanship is wonderful,” Melanie pointed out.
The more he looked at it, the more he thought it would be perfect in his apartment. The apartment he hadn’t been to in nearly a month. He could see it via the monitors in the control room, but he had opted to stay at Guardian. He glanced around the room. He felt perfectly safe. Perhaps, starting tonight, he’d return to his own home.
The more he talked to Melanie, the more he missed Grace. Even six months ago, Griffin probably would’ve taken the woman dancing in his arms out clubbing afterwards, then to her place, or a hotel, for meaningless sex. He’d get her home hours before the sun rose, never to see her again.
Grace had changed everything for him. She was so smart, a little bit clumsy which just made her more precious in his eyes. He tried to remember which club it was where he and Grace had last danced. Thinking of her made his cock grow.
Melanie stepped in closer, aligning her body with Griffin’s. As they swayed to the slow song, her hip rubbed over his erection. He tried to put up the space between them, but on the next step she moved right back, pressing her breasts against his chest.
“I’m sure we stayed here long enough.” She rubbed her hip across his cock. “Do you want to get out of here?”
No. There were two ways to play this. At the signal to Nate—his assistant manager who was personal protection to a billionaire holding court at the other end of the grand ba
llroom—Griffin would suddenly receive a phone call and have to return to the office immediately. Or he could tell Melanie the truth. He chose the first option.
With sincere apologies to Mr. and Mrs. Bayne, he asked Melanie to walk out to the car with him.
“I really enjoyed this evening,” Griffin lied. “I’m sorry I got called away, but as the manager, there are some things that only I can handle.” Half of it was true. “Thank you for a lovely evening.” He bent down and kissed her on the cheek.
Miguel, his club-loving nightcrawler, got out of the Guardian SUV dressed in a tuxedo. After quick introductions, the Latin lover threw his arm around Melanie. “What’s your favorite club in Miami?”
Melanie’s squeal of delight assured Griffin that she would have a good time that night. So would Miguel.
As Griffin opened the door to his apartment, he looked at it objectively. He wondered if Grace would like it. He’d brought several pieces from home, mostly the antiques that had surrounded him as a child. Several items he thought were fun, including a desk with secret compartments. The living room was comfortable. He loved his leather couch with recliners on each end, especially when the guys came over to watch the game. The flat screen that took up the entire space above the fireplace might be a little large for the room, but damn, football games were like being there, without the stink of sweat.
As he moved into his bedroom, he thought about the four-poster bed at his grandparents’ home. He wondered if they would let him have it. Hell. They’d let him have anything he wanted if he brought home a bride.
He was getting way too far ahead of himself. His mind must be far too tired.
As he crawled under the sheets, his final thoughts were of Grace.
Griffin had talked to Alex several times while the women were gone. The conversation inevitably wandered to Katlin and Grace. Every time, Alex reassured him that the women were fine. It was as though he knew something that Griffin didn’t. He wondered if Katlin called him while they were gone.
When he was in the SEALs, they could sometimes call home, even video chat. But his relationship with Grace wasn’t to that point yet. He knew she was fully capable of handling herself with a tango, but he couldn’t stop worrying. He’d been on the other side of this equation his entire time in the Navy. It was part of the reason he never even considered a long-term relationship. They could be called out at any time, day or night. They’d never know how long they were going to be gone, where they were going, or when they’d be back. The only thing they did know was that they were headed into danger. It was no wonder the divorce rate among special operators was so high. Who would want to put up with this?
Griffin would if it meant Grace would come home to him after each and every mission. He seemed to miss her more and more every day.
The women had been gone for nearly six weeks and Griffin had slipped into the routine of daily work and hard workouts in the gym on Guardian’s second floor. Several of the guys would invade his place on Saturdays for college football games, and poker every few weeks.
New though, was celibacy. Griffin’s normally active social life didn’t appeal to him at all. And he tried. Two other times he’d attended events as an escort rather than a bodyguard and left both women with nothing more than a kiss on the cheek.
Alex’s call that Tuesday morning was not a surprise, but his request was. “How’s your hand-to-hand combat?”
“Fine. Why?” Griffin wondered what kind of weird idea Alex had come up with this time. Several months ago, he’d started a shooting competition, first among the men at each center, then brought the winners altogether for a contest in D.C. he’d given the winner a week vacation at a Caribbean resort.
“I’d like you to go to the D.C. Center and give the men there a workshop.” Alex sounded far too excited about this idea.
“What dates are you thinking?” Griffin started calculating how long it would take him to put together a good strong course, the number of men they’d have to run through each segment, plus figuring they couldn’t do everybody at the same time.
“I’ve got you booked on a flight later this afternoon.” Yes, Alex was far too excited about this idea.
Then it dawned on Griffin. “Do you know something I don’t?”
Alex chuckled. “I know lots of things you don’t know. But one thing I’m sure of, you’re going to want to be in D.C. tonight.”
Grace was coming home? He might be able to see her in a few hours? Hold her. Kiss her. Make love to her. “Are they on their way back?”
“You don’t have the clearance to ask those questions, especially on this unsecured line,” Alex chastised. “I’d like you to be in D.C. to conduct hand-to-hand combat training for the next several days. Your flight information will be sent to you by our travel division within the next hour. Go pack, my friend.”
“Meet me at the airport?” Griffin was hoping maybe Alex would tell him face-to-face.
“Can’t. I’ve got to take care of a few things in Chicago.” Alex hung up.
Chapter 15
Grace was so exhausted she could hardly drag her body out of the pilot seat and down the steps. The mission had gone ugly. Nita had been under cover working as a cook in one of Khalid Junyard’s safe houses when the man and his small entourage showed up. That went according to plan.
When the self-proclaimed Caliphate decided to take an eleven-year-old local girl as his newest wife, the plan changed. As the household prepared for the nuptials, the plan to poison the groom got put on hold when he and his men hurriedly packed up and left…with the girl.
Their team had to split up, something they absolutely hated to do, but Katlin refused to leave Nita behind, alone. Lei Lu waited for Nita to escape while the other three chased Junyard from town to town, shifting the plan on the fly.
As Grace forced her feet to move toward the plane’s hold to retrieve her bags, she pictured her target in the crosshairs as she’d seen him in Baneh, Iran. Yes, they’d been in Iran, not Iraq.
She’d missed.
So had Tori, who was the best shot in all the Section 7 teams. But that didn’t matter. Grace had missed. That had put them on the run and hiding from Junyard’s men for several days. Fortunately, that gave them an opportunity to meet back up with Nita and Lei Lu. Unfortunately, it meant they started from square one.
It had taken them weeks to find their target again. In the meantime, their backup teams were also following leads. In the end, as though perfectly orchestrated, within hours of each other, all three teams took out someone who might have been Khalid Junyard. The DNA they had collected would verify.
Grace bent over to grab her bag but a familiar male scent filled her. Griffin. The excitement started in the bottom of her stomach and swelled around her heart. Without thinking about where she was, she turned and saw his grinning face. Throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed him with the surprise, joy, and need she’d repressed while on the mission.
She heard someone clear her throat.
Still in Griffin’s strong arms, she looked over his shoulder at Katlin.
Oops. That was definitely conduct unbecoming of an officer and there were several enlisted Marines in the area dealing with their plane.
As she gently pushed out of his arms, he said, “I missed you, too.”
Within just a few minutes, all their gear was loaded into two Guardian SUVs and they were headed to the DuPont Circle condo. Griffin and Grace were in the back seat with Katlin upfront, on the phone to Alex.
“So, what do you want to do in the next few days.” Griffin slid his arm around her and pulled her tight. “Alex has me teaching hand-to-hand combat at the D.C. center, but that’s during the day while you’re at work.” He lifted her chin and gently kissed her. “But I’m available every night.”
Grace could think of lots of things she wanted to do with Griffin. Most of them involved not leaving a bed. At that exact moment, she’d be pleased just to curl up next to him as he held her while she slept.<
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Griffin’s phone buzzed and Grace felt it against her hip. “You going to get that?”
He rubbed his hand up and down her arm. “No. Because that means I’d have to move you, and I like you right where you are.”
She liked being there, too. So much she started to fall asleep.
Then his phone buzzed again.
Grace took a deep breath to wake back up again and sat up straight. “You should get that.” She thought about her own phone and pulled it out. She’d been so tired she hadn’t even turned it on since hitting U.S. soil.
Several voice mails and text messages immediately downloaded. Scrolling through, they were all from her family. The oldest was a voice mail from her mother. “Gracie, I know you’re busy with your job and probably not even in the country, but I wanted to let you know that your daddy has been taken to the hospital. They think he might’ve had a heart attack. But you don’t need to worry. I just wanted you to know. I love you.”
A fist clamped around Grace’s heart. She’d never thought about her parents getting old…or that they might die. She checked the date on that original call. Four weeks ago. The burning in the back of her eyes that her father might already be gone and she’d have missed it tightened her throat.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Griffin pulled her around to face him. He glanced at the phone in her shaking hand.
She fought the tears that were ready to spill. With a shaky breath she managed to get out the two words, “My daddy.”
Griffin immediately enveloped her in his arms, but her body was all twisted because of the seatbelt. He unfastened it and pulled her onto his lap. “What happened?”
Taking a breath was almost impossible. “Heart attack.”
Hesitantly, Griffin asked, “Is he okay?”
“I don’t know.” She stared at her phone, almost afraid to find out.
“I’ve got you.” He rubbed his hand up and down her back. “We’ll listen to the messages together, if that’ll make you feel better.”
