Countdown: Grayson

by Boniface, Allie

  He ran one hand over his hair. “Yes and no.”

  “I mean, I literally wake up in the middle of the night and wonder how I can drive myself to the liquor store—which isn’t even open, of course, but that doesn’t matter to my fucked-up brain—without Chris hearing me.”

  Grayson had done that. Hell, he’d made that drive more than once, then sat in the parking lot of the liquor store looking up gas stations and truck stops on his phone to see where the hell he could get something, anything, before he went crazy.

  “We’ve all been there,” he said. “Believe me.” Suddenly, he was damn glad he hadn’t dragged anyone down into this mess with him. His marriage, lasting less than a year, hadn’t broken up because of the booze, although he knew that hadn’t helped. But if he’d had kids at home? A four-month-old Jade? Sobriety took on a new meaning when a helpless kid depended on you.

  Sarah sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, these meetings help.”

  “Yeah, they do.”

  “I just wish I could stop being obsessed with it. Like, it’s all I think about.”

  “It gets better. You look better,” he said. “Healthier, if that helps.”

  A smile broke over her face. “It does. Thanks. Chris tells me that all the time, but I figure he kind of has to, what with being married to me.”

  “I don’t think it’s written into the marriage contract,” Grayson joked. It felt good to do that, to laugh with a woman without wondering how he could get her into bed. Maybe that was a side effect of not drinking, that the other addictive parts of his personality learned to settle down too. Or maybe it was just that he hadn’t stopped thinking about Kara since driving away from Helping Hands over an hour ago.

  “I gotta go,” he said. He’d left Turk sitting in the truck, content with a rawhide bone and the windows cracked, but the dog was probably half out of his mind by now. He pulled a business card from his wallet. “Email me and I’ll send you all the info.” He leaned closer as he slipped the card between her fingers, still wrapped around the paper coffee cup. “I’ll give you a hell of a discount too.”

  “Thanks, Grayson. I really appreciate it.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

  “One day at a time, Sarah.”

  She nodded, and he said goodbye to the others and hurried outside. One day at a time. If these meetings had taught him anything, it was that. He didn’t have control over anything except how he reacted to the shit happening right that minute, right that day.

  Turk woofed as he approached, and as soon as Grayson climbed inside, the dog gave him a tongue bath.

  “All right, buddy.” Grayson laughed. He checked his phone, but Kara hadn’t called or texted. He pulled out of the parking lot and almost got onto the highway when his stomach growled again. He wasn’t sure if she’d eaten anything at Helping Hands, but just in case, he’d pick up a pizza. Not the healthiest choice, but he didn’t have the time or inclination to cook a full-course dinner. Nor did he know what she liked to eat, and he figured pizza was a safe bet.

  He cut the wheel, made a U-turn, and headed back toward town. ChiChi’s was one of the best Italian restaurants in the valley, and the place was packed. He ended up parking around back, way up on a grassy knoll that overlooked the river. The restaurant had a fantastic back porch, and sometimes people waited over an hour to get a table out there. A few waved in his direction as he climbed out of the truck and walked across the lawn. Turk trotted behind him.

  Man, it was a great night. He shaded his eyes against the setting sun and took a long look at the river, the glint under the sky, the way it cut like a snake through the mountains. In the distance, he could see the jagged remains of the old ironworks buildings, covered with dirt and grass and moss and deserted except for a few drunks and druggies who took up residence there every now and again.

  He circled around to the front of the restaurant but didn’t bother with the main entrance. Instead he went straight to the takeout window, where a striped awning shaded a long counter and a handful of people waited for their orders.

  “Hey, Grayson.”

  “Gray, what’s up?”

  “Hollister, man, nice to catch ya.”

  He said hello, shook hands, and petted a few dogs as Turk made the rounds with him and sniffed until he was satisfied. Then the dog collapsed near a picnic table and put his head on his front paws to wait.

  “What can I getcha tonight?” asked Jamie Connors. She was the nineteen-year-old daughter of Kyle Connors, one of the meanest drunks in town. He’d come to exactly one AA meeting, proclaimed them all a bunch of idiots, and walked out after ten minutes. Grayson worried about Jamie and her mom, but there was only so much you could do for a person who didn’t want to be helped or changed. He knew that as well as anyone.

  “Need a pie and some wings.” He tucked a ten in Jamie’s tip jar and ordered a dozen wings and a large pizza with half sausage and half mushrooms, just in case Kara was a vegetarian. The chicken wings were an indulgence, but he figured after the bizarre day he’d had, he’d earned them.

  “You got it,” Jamie said with a dimpled smile. She glanced over her shoulder. “We’re slammed tonight. It’ll probably be twenty, thirty minutes.”

  That would put him back on the mountain long after the seven o’clock he’d promised Kara. “That’s okay.” He sent her a quick text as he moved aside for the next customer. Running late. Picking up dinner.

  “Let’s go, Turk.” He couldn’t stop thinking about Jade, feeling guilty for leaving her so long with Kara. She’d offered to take the baby, sure, but he knew he was taking advantage.

  No reason to stay at the restaurant when he could drive around town instead, ask some questions, see if anyone would miraculously confess to leaving Jade on his doorstep. He hopped back in his truck just as Kara’s reply came through.

  No problem. I’m not home yet either. See you there in a bit.

  Grayson frowned. Is she still at Helping Hands?

  He drove down to the pantry, but Harmony was the only person he saw, locking up the front door. She gave him a curious glance as he passed, but he just waved out the open window and kept going. He followed Main Street along the river, and when he neared the police station, he thought about going inside. If either of his buddies were on duty, he might be able to ask a few questions without raising suspicion. But when he looked at the side parking lot where the guys left their regular vehicles, he didn’t recognize either truck.

  He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He’d only half-listened to people talk at the meeting tonight. His thoughts kept going over the last year, the women he’d slept with, the mistakes he’d made, the possible explanations for who Jade belonged to. Besides Becca, he’d dated only one other woman longer than a few weeks, and Anna had left town back in the winter. Last he’d heard, she’d been shacked up on the West Coast with another boxer still on the circuit. He saw occasional pictures of her on social media, and she sure hadn’t had a kid.

  So that left the one-night stands, but he was always careful. Even in his drunken state, he wore a condom. His father, and later his coaches, had drilled that into his head since the time he was twelve.

  “Wrap it up or you’ll pay for the rest of your life.”

  “Those groupies’ll pin a kid on you quicker than you’d think.”

  So he’d been careful. But Grayson wasn’t stupid. He knew condoms didn’t protect 100 percent. Still, if he’d gotten someone pregnant, wouldn’t she have come looking for him sooner than now? He knew two guys from the circuit who’d been paying child support for years, all because of one-night mistakes. Those women were more than eager to demand a paternity test the minute they missed their first period.

  He reached the end of Main Street and, without thinking much about it, detoured onto a dirt road that led down by the river. It was a good place to drive without thinking. No traffic, no stoplights, great scenery. Turk sat up, his ears perked forward, and hung his head out the window.

&nb
sp; “Good scents, boy?” Grayson slowed down as the road grew bumpier. The shadows were longer now, the sun just half a yellow globe above the horizon. He should probably turn back; his order would be ready soon. Still, the rich colors drew him in and he drove a little farther, mesmerized by the mountains thick with pines, the winding water, the birds that hopped and flew beside his truck.

  Without warning, Turk yipped and lunged at the window, and Grayson slammed to a stop. A figure darted across the road and slipped behind a tree. He’d reached the abandoned ironworks, where a few old buildings sat along the riverbank. Every year they fell a little more into disrepair. The windows had long since been broken, and most of the doors were missing, but walls and roofs remained. A few trails through the grass indicated foot traffic, the homeless who lived there for much of the year until cold and snow drove them to more southern states.

  They didn’t normally bother anyone, but the town considered them a nuisance and put up signs to discourage them from staying too long. Grayson squinted into the fading light and made out a group of three middle-aged men with stringy hair and dirty clothes. One wore a backpack and smoked a cigarette. All stared at him without speaking.

  That could be me.

  Unlikely, of course, because Grayson had been a good enough fighter that he’d won prize money starting at sixteen. Still, he’d squandered most of it, too, and after he officially retired, he lived on friends’ couches and in his own truck before moving to Yawketuck and getting his head straight. Even then, even after his former coach loaned him money to start HTC and he’d gotten enough clients to make a go of it, his drinking nearly landed him in the poorhouse. If he’d made a few more bad decisions, he might’ve ended up down here, scrounging for scraps and sleeping on the ground.

  Grayson blinked and the men were gone. He drove to the next turnaround and was about to double back to town when he saw a dust cloud ahead of him. A moment later, a car emerged out of it.

  Kara’s car.

  The road was barely wide enough for two vehicles, and she stopped when she saw him.

  He was out of his truck almost before he realized it. “What are you doing down here?”

  Jade was awake in the back seat, and she stared up at him from those perfect, heartbreaking eyes. For just a second, a memory came to him, those same eyes in the face of a woman, but the memory was gone before he could grasp it. I knew her. Know her. But he couldn’t be clear how or why or when.

  “I thought I’d drive down here and see if....” She waved a hand around the general area.

  “Please don’t tell me you talked to anyone. Or got out of the car.”

  “I asked a few questions. No one seemed to know anything about Jade.”

  He curled a fist against the roof of the car. “You shouldn’t have. Could’ve been dangerous.”

  “It’s still daylight.”

  “You weigh a buck-twenty and have a four-month-old child in the back seat.” What if something had happened to them? These guys carried knives and sawed-off shotguns. Grayson knew that for a fact, even if Kara didn’t.

  “Grayson, I’m fine.”

  “You took a risk.”

  “Getting out of bed every day is a risk.”

  His cheeks flamed. “Are you making fun of me?”

  “Of course not. I’m just saying you might be overreacting.”

  His jaw tightened, and it took everything he had not to let loose a few curse words. “If she’s my child, the last thing I want is you driving her around the ironworks.”

  She met his gaze evenly, without a trace of emotion. “Fine. I’ll remember that next time.”

  “Fine.” Then, to his utter astonishment, his cock twitched. What the fuck?

  “Are we done here?” she asked. “Because I should really get her home and change her diaper.”

  His head spun. “Yeah. We’re done here.”

  She nodded, slipped on her sunglasses, and drove around him. Grayson simply stood there and stared. He should’ve been furious, or at least pissed off. And he was, to a certain extent. But below his anger simmered a quiet but unmistakable desire.

  The set of her chin, the way her gaze met his, the smell of her perfume in the air, had thrown him for a loop. She didn’t bat an eyelash at his looks or his past or his temper, and he was pretty sure she was the first woman he’d ever met like that. She held her own. She didn’t seem to care what he thought. And something about that charmed the hell out of him.

  When Grayson finally got back in his own truck, it was all he could do not to abandon the takeout, follow her up the mountain, and storm the castle so he could see once and for all how good Kara McGarrity tasted.

  8:00 p.m.

  “Unbelievable,” Kara said as she drove up the mountain. She glanced in the rearview mirror. “Can you believe that guy? Telling me where I should and shouldn’t go? I’m a grown woman.” She shook her head. Plus, where the hell had he been? She’d seen a smear of pink lipstick on his cheek, which meant he’d snuck away for a quickie somewhere. Seriously? While I’m taking care of a baby who’s probably his? But she didn’t know why that surprised her. All men were alike.

  By the time she turned onto Fourth Road, the sun was almost down behind the trees, and the road was almost as dark as her mood when she pulled into her driveway.

  Jade blinked and cooed from the back seat, and for the hundredth time that day, Kara wondered how anyone could’ve left her behind.

  Her stomach growled as she carried the baby inside, and she realized she hadn’t eaten a thing since lunch. Grayson had texted that he was picking up dinner, although after his snit down by the river, she wouldn’t be surprised to see him show up empty-handed.

  Or not show up at all.

  “If there’s anything I’m used to, it’s men’s bad behavior.”

  She laid the baby on her bed to change her. Once Jade was clean and dry, she bent over the baby’s stomach and blew softly. Jade waved her legs and burbled.

  “Let me tell you something, sweetie,” Kara murmured. “The best thing you can ever do is grow up to be your own woman. Don’t depend on a man for anything. And don’t ever let a man hurt you.” She hoped whoever ended up raising this little girl would teach her that from the start.

  She fastened the new diaper and was about to change her own clothes when she heard the sound of tires pulling into her driveway. A moment later, someone knocked on her front door, and a moment after that, the someone walked inside.

  “Kara?”

  She gathered the baby to her shoulder. Her bedroom was just off the living room, which meant Grayson saw her as soon as he stepped inside. Turk followed close behind.

  “You don’t wait for an invitation?”

  His cheeks colored. “Oh. Sorry.”

  She shook her head. This guy was nothing if not presumptuous. But he had an apologetic look and a takeout box from ChiChi’s that smelled divine, so she relented.

  “Hungry?”

  “A little.” She put Jade in her carrier and prepared a bottle. “Plates are in the cabinet over the sink,” she said. “And I think there’s some beer in the fridge. Or wine. Don’t know what you drink.”

  “I don’t.”

  His words had an edge to them, and when she looked over her shoulder, she saw a shadow cross his face. “Used to,” he added. “But it got me into trouble more often than I liked, so....” He shrugged. “I’m trying to make some changes.”

  She nodded and took two bottles of water from the refrigerator instead. “Fair enough.” They sat opposite each other at the table with Turk at their feet. Grayson opened the box, which held an enormous pizza and what looked like a dozen chicken wings.

  “I wasn’t sure what you liked,” he said.

  I like you.

  The insane response flashed into her head without warning, and she squeezed her thighs together to stem the want that insisted on creeping over her every time she got near him. He’s arrogant and self-absorbed. He has a reputation for breaking hearts al
l over town. If anything ever happened between us, he’d be out the door before the sun rose. But her body didn’t want to listen to her brain.

  “It all looks good.” She took a slice of pizza.

  “I’m sorry,” he said after a while. He pulled off some pieces of pizza crust and fed them to Turk. “About before. I might’ve come across a little... hotheaded.”

  She wiped her mouth and took a long drink of water. “I know you were concerned.”

  “I was. Some shit has happened down at the ironworks. Maybe you don’t know that, but my buddies who work as cops have told me stories. They aren’t harmless, the people who squat down there. They’re drunk or high most of the time, they fight each other, they’ll rob anyone who’s foolish enough to—”

  “Okay, you made your point.”

  His jaw tightened.

  “Grayson, listen. Obviously we’re both independent adults who are used to getting our own way. I appreciate your concern, and yes, I know what goes down at the ironworks. But I’ve been taking care of myself since I was a teenager. I’ve raised a son by myself. I’m not stupid.” Like the bimbos you’re probably used to spending time with.

  “Fine.”

  She hesitated. “I know I’m not the typical woman you hang out with.”

  “That’s the truth.” He grinned. “But that’s not necessarily a bad thing, either.”

  Against her will, she smiled back. Damn. Her whole body, head to toe, insisted on responding to this guy. She glanced at Jade, who’d fallen asleep. “Listen, if we’re going to try and find out who she belongs to, we’ve got to work together. And not fight.” Or disappear to scratch an itch. She handed him a napkin. “You have lipstick on your face.”

  He went bright red and swiped at his cheek. “Oh. Shit. It’s from—” He stopped. “I was at an AA meeting. That’s where I went earlier. One of the women was thanking me. And saying goodbye. She’s married,” he added. “It’s not what you think.”