by Susan Bliler
Her lips tweaked in a smirk. “I didn’t tell you any of this to fish for compliments.”
“I know you didn’t. It’s one of those things about you that you think you need to explain. To the bones, Grace.” He shoved his tray of food aside and grabbed her hands. “You’re good to your bones and I’m glad not everyone knows it. I’m glad they don’t flock to you. I’m glad they don’t know that you’re fun.”
She snorted. “Thanks, I think.”
“It feels like you’re a secret that only I know.” The truth in his own words struck something in him and had his heart constricting with some emotion he couldn’t place. She was a secret that only he knew and that delighted the shit out of him. Not only was she a secret, but she was a secret he wanted to keep.
“And I’m not fun. That’s the point. The difference between me and my sister. I’m the responsible one. She’s the fun one.”
“Bullshit.” He squeezed her hands. “Everyone knows how to have fun. We don’t all do it the same, but we do it.”
“Yeah,” she tilted her head back to look up at him. “How do you have fun, big Mac?”
He grinned at the nickname. “I hunt, I fly.” I battle and kill.
She dipped her head in a nod. “Sounds about right.”
She pulled her hands from his and grabbed his tray placing it back in front of him before taking up her own fork again. “Anyway. The reason I didn’t call my sister is because she lives hard, loves hard, and hurts hard. She’s going through her ten millionth heart break and doesn’t need my shit ladled on top.”
“You think she’d want that?”
“No. But I know what she can handle. Her life is too much for any one person. She’s like that Kelly Clarkson song, Beautiful Disaster. She’s drowning in her dreams, and I don’t know what she’s after. It’s alright though I’ll take care of me.”
He had to bite his tongue to keep from offering to take the job.
They finished their meals in silence and Baymac reluctantly returned Grace to her suite. Stalling in her doorway, he had to fight the urge to force his way inside and make sure everything was okay. It was dumb. She wasn’t his to protect.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” Grace offered quietly looking at his chest instead of his eyes.
“Grace, if I would have known you were still here…” He didn’t finish though because he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. He’d what? Have tracked her down, have stalked her incessantly, have found his way back into her bed? He shook his head. “Yeah. See ya around.” He turned and left, praying he didn’t see her around because right now, walking away from her was the hardest thing he’d ever done.
Chapter 17
“Why is Grace Rowland still here on the Estate,” Baymac snarled as soon as he stepped into Skin Walker Dominant, Monroe StoneCrow’s office.
Slowly setting down his pen, Monroe raised his head and pinned Baymac with clear cold eyes and steepled his fingers over his desk. “Is there a problem?”
“Yeah, there’s a fucking problem! She was supposed to be gone and I just saw her.”
“Roads are still bad and she’s precious cargo.” Monroe dropped his head and took up his pen. “I need her delivered to the Blackbirds in one piece.” He flicked his fingers toward the door. “Don’t have time for you now. Come back in an hour.”
“Fuck no! That isn’t all! And I ain't coming back! We need to discuss this now!” Baymac was pacing now, pissed at being summoned and then shooed away and angry because he wasn’t exactly sure what else he wanted to say just that he had more to get off his chest. He glanced at Monroe who was watching him with a bored expression. “It’s just… I didn’t expect to see her again and then wham! There she is!”
“And that’s a problem why?”
Because I can’t stop thinking about her! Because I’m not done with her! Because I want her! “Because!”
“Oh.” And there it was, that fucking look Monroe got when he thought he’d just figured out some great mystery. The tense lines around his mouth disappeared and his narrowed eyes opened as he grinned knowingly. “Well since you’ve cleared that up so eloquently.”
Baymac knew he was in it now. “I’m not afflicted. She’s not mine! It just feels like an incomplete mission. I don’t want this falling back on me.”
But Monroe was still grinning and it was terrifying because the fucker never grinned or smiled or laughed.
“If the roads were good enough to get her here, then they’re good enough to get her gone. It’s all I’m saying.”
“She’s needs to get to Glacier. Roads are worse there.” Monroe’s smile vanished and his eyes narrowed as he watched Baymac intensely, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk. “’Spose I could send her with James. If they take a chopper not much could go wrong.”
And now he was being baited because everything could go wrong if Grace was in a helicopter, especially with James. The Walker was un-mated and was always screwing around. Just the thought of Grace alone with him had Baymac’s blood boiling. Worse, he hadn’t really thought out his urgency to have Grace gone. If it meant she’d be in danger then fuck that. His mind was working a mile-a-minute and it was disconcerting watching Monroe while Monroe watched him right back. “You’re right,” he finally ceded. “Winds are too bad. It’ll have to wait.”
Sighing a bored sound, Monroe’s lips thinned and he took up his pen, dropped his head, and flicked his fingers toward the door in that shooing gesture. “Five minutes of my life I’ll never get back. Get out.”
And because he didn’t have a retort, Baymac turned and left the Dominant’s office knowing he’d made Monroe suspicious and hating himself for it. There was nothing worse than being in the Dominant’s sights, especially where women and claiming were concerned. He knew his actions just now told Monroe that Grace was having an effect on him and fuck it all! He may as well have just waltzed in and said, “I’m interested in Grace Rowland, see what you can do.” Funny though, part of him was terrified yet another part was excited. FUUUUCK! He couldn’t get attached to Grace, he just couldn’t. She was coming out of an abusive relationship and she needed attention and a good man, not a Skin Walker Sentry who thrived on battle and volunteered for the most dangerous missions. Nope, he and Grace couldn’t happen.
***
Baymac worked tirelessly on his project. It was something he’d taken up once he’d returned to the Estate and if it was confusing to others, it was outright dumbfounding to him.
Sitting back on his haunches, he wiped sweat from his brow and set down the hammer he held. It had taken him the full three weeks he thought Grace had been gone and the full last week since he’d known she’d remained at the Estate to finish the cabin he’d been building deep in the trees just beyond the line of others behind the manor at StoneCrow Estates. It didn’t make sense that he was building a cabin because a) he resided permanently at Apex, not StoneCrow, and b) cabins were typically reserved for Walkers with Angels and children, of which he had neither. Still, he was proud of the work he’d done. Hell, he’d even gotten the place furnished and was just finishing up a few touches to the porch.
“You find your One?”
He startled at the words and it was irksome because as a Walker he had heightened senses and wasn’t easily snuck up on. Turning, he frowned at RedKnife KillsPrettyEnemy. “No,” he bit out.
RedKnife pointed at the cabin. “This says otherwise.”
“It’s just busy work.”
RedKnife craned his neck to look through the front window. “Furnishings inside suggest otherwise. Looks like you’re getting ready for something…or someone.”
Baymac rose to his full height and crossed his arms over his chest. “Stop speaking in fucking riddles, man, and say what you came to say.”
RedKnife chuffed a laugh. “King says you confronted Monroe about Grace Rowland still being here on the Estate.”
Baymac didn’t respond.
“That have anything to do with
you still being on the Estate?”
Still he didn’t answer.
“See,” RedKnife continued. “James thinks you stayed here for the few weeks after Grace left because Apex is closer to Glacier and you didn’t want to be tempted to go after her. Then, once you found out she was still here, you stayed because of it.”
Baymac snorted and shook his head. “The day I start listening to James, fucking shoot me.”
“He’s a pretty smart kid,” RedKnife countered.
“Smart!” Baymac’s brows hiked to his hairline. “The week before the attack on the Estate, I found him out in the woods fighting a grizzly.”
RedKnife shrugged, “So?”
“He was in crow form! Apparently, he bet York that shifted into bird form he could best a bear. A fucking grizzly bear! There were feathers everywhere. Dumb bastard almost died!”
A smile split RedKnife’s face and he shook his head. “Well, maybe smart wasn’t the right word, but where you and Grace are concerned, I think he’s on to something.”
Baymac rolled his head on his shoulders. “Fuck man! What do you want?”
Sobering, RedKnife eyed him intently. “It’s not what I want. It’s what I don’t want. I don’t want you passing up your One because of your hard headed Walker ego. I could’ve lost my One because I was an idiot. Don’t do the same. If Grace is yours, then go after her. Take her, keep her.”
“She ain’t my One, RedKnife. She ain’t my anything.”
“Lie. I can fucking smell it on you! You want that woman like you want to breathe.”
“Yeah, well want and need aren’t the same thing.”
“No, they aren’t. But once she’s gone, I’m betting your gonna feel both.” He eyed the cabin. “Be honest with yourself, brother.” He pointed to the structure behind Baymac. “You built that for her, for the two of you. It’s gonna be one empty home if you don’t get right.”
“What do you want me to do?” Baymac threw his hands in the air. “I’m not afflicted. If she were my One, I’d be afflicted. That’s how it works, right?”
“It’s been coming late for all of us. She could be it. It could still happen.”
“And if it doesn’t,” Baymac countered. “What happens if I bring Grace here, fall in love with her, and then meet a woman and become afflicted by her? I ain’t doing that shit to Grace, and I ain’t doing it to myself.”
“Then there’s only one thing you can do.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
RedKnife canted his head to study Baymac. “Go find out if Grace is your One.” He turned and without another word walked away.
Chapter 18
Pacing out in front of StoneCrow manor like a fucking stalker, Baymac kept eyeing the door. He’d gotten word that Grace wanted to meet with him in front of the building. His palms were sweating like a damn teenager while his belly flip-flopped at the prospect of seeing her. He stilled when he saw her all bundled up in a puffy coat over tight jeans and fur-lined winter boots. He swallowed hard as she exited the building and when her eyes locked on his, his gut twisted with the urge to rush to her. He didn’t. Instead, he fisted his hands and tried to appear unmoved.
“Hi,” she gave him a little wave with one hand, the other held a small gift bag.
“Hey.” He hurried to the stairs and held out a hand to ensure she made it down the icy steps without incident. She accepted his hand with a timid smile and fuck if the sight of it on her lips didn’t have his balls drawing up as need tore through him. “How’ve you been?”
She looked up at him and breath fogged from her perfect lips when she offered, “Good. You?”
“Good.” Damn, this felt awkward. They’d slept together and here they were struggling through small talk like two strangers.
She looked away and scrunched her face. “This feels weird.”
He was glad she noticed too. “Yeah.” He lifted a hand and rubbed at the back of his head. “Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was apologizing for, but it felt right.
“I made you a gift.” She lifted the small red gift bag that sparkled with glitter. “Here.”
He was watching her though because she was tense and it mirrored the emotion roiling in his belly. Dipping his eyes to the bag, he accepted it with a murmured, “Didn’t have to get me anything, Grace.”
“Well, it’s nearly Christmas.” She rocked back on her heels and shrugged. “It’s a thank you for getting me safely to StoneCrow. I made it.” She leaned forward and peeked into the bag as he opened it. She smiled when he pulled out the finished scarf she’d started at Kris and Mary’s house.
His eyes flicked from it to her. “Is this Wilson?”
Trying not to outright laugh, she nodded. “Yup, that’s him.”
Baymac unfolded it and held it up before wrapping it around his neck. “He didn’t turn out half bad!”
Grace finally let the laugh that had been simmering bubble up. “It’s horrible!” She grabbed one end and then the other holding them up. “I couldn’t remember how I did the fringe on the one end, so one got fringe and one is a straight line.” She pinched one eye closed and canted her head, staring at the ends she held up. “Well, almost a straight line.”
Baymac laughed and pulled the ends from her hands, “Hey! Don’t be bashing my scarf!”
“Wilson,” she corrected merrily.
“Wilson,” Baymac amended through a grin. “Thank you. It’s a great gift.”
“Will you wear it?” she asked teasingly.
“Hell yeah! You think anyone else here has a half fringed, mostly straight, barf green scarf? It’s one of a kind! Walkers’ll be beating down your door to have one made.”
She laughed again, and he hadn’t realized how much he’d been yearning to hear that sound until something right settled in his bones. Unable to stop himself, he gripped her elbow and bent to brush a kiss against her cheek. “Thank you. Seriously.”
She sobered then and her lips parted as she stared up at him all wide eyed. She inhaled like she was going to say something… No words came. He kept his hand on her arm and squeezed. “What?”
Grace shook her head and looked down.
“Tell me.” But he could tell by the look on her face as she kept it angled down that she wouldn’t budge. “Or…” His mind was working quickly now. “Lyrics! Tell me some lyrics.” He liked the way she used songs to convey how she felt. “Who said it best, Grace? What did they say?”
Her face went all contemplative and he knew he had her. It didn’t even take a full moment before she asked, “You heard of Gnash? They’re kinda new.”
He nodded even though he hadn’t. He was afraid if he said he didn’t know who they were then she’d stall out on him.
“They have this song called, ‘I hate you, I…’” Her words died off and she swallowed hard.
“What do they say?” he prodded quietly. He was shocked to his bones when she looked away but her lips parted and words came out as beautiful notes. She sang the lyrics and while he was mesmerized by the beauty of her voice, his heart clenched at the words.
“Feeling used, but I’m…still missing you and I can’t see the end of this. Just wanna feel your kiss against my lips. And now all this time is passing by but I still can’t seem to tell you why it hurts me every time I see you. Realize how much I need you. I hate you, I lo…”
The strong notes of her voice trailed off and Baymac had to swallow hard. “I never meant to hurt you, Grace.”
She chuffed a humorless laugh and sniffed still not making eye contact. “That’s a different tune. Bruno Mars, maybe. The song, ‘When I Was Your Man’.”
“Yeah.” He couldn’t stop himself from stepping closer and grabbing her other arm to massage it gently. “What’s that song about?”
“He should have bought her flowers, held her hand. Shoulda gave her all his hours when he had the chance. Took her to parties ‘cause all she wanted to do was dance.” She finally lifted her eyes to look at him, and the resentment th
at pooled there nearly floored him. “Now his baby’s dancing, but she’s dancing with another man.”
Grace pulled away from him. “Mr. StoneCrow said you’re eager to see me gone.”
What? Why in the fuck would Monroe tell her that? “Grace, it wasn’t like that.”
“Yeah,” she shot him a dark look. “I’ll be gone soon enough, Mac. You can stop worrying about me.”
And there was the problem. He was worrying about her but not about how fast she was leaving. No, she hadn’t left his thoughts since…honestly, the minute she climbed into his truck at White Sulphur Springs. Now the prospect of her moving on to Glacier was gutting him like nothing else ever had. Well, almost nothing. The way she’d just pulled away from him and the bitterness he scented made him want to find Monroe StoneCrow and strangle the bastard.
Grace was walking away from him and it jerked him into action as he trotted to rush up the stairs behind her. “I didn’t want you gone, Grace.”
She kept her eyes straight ahead. “That’s not how I heard it.”
His mind shot back to the day he’d approached Monroe and his exact words. “Why is Grace Rowland still here on the Estate? Yeah, there’s a fucking problem! She was supposed to be gone and I just saw her.” Well, there was no way to sugar coat that and make it sound like he hadn’t been grilling the Dominant to get her gone. God, he was such a fucknut! “Grace, wait!”
She stopped and laughed a humorless sound, “Like Taylor Swift says, ‘Haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate’.”
“Not hating.” He shook his head hard when she looked at him. “I could never hate you, Grace.”
Her smile vanished.
“Hey,” he took a step toward her, but she jerked back, the action pulling his brows down. “Grace. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she was shaking her head and backing away. “Just…just remembered I have something,” she jerked a thumb over her shoulder, “I forgot about.” Ducking her head, she turned away from him. “Anyway, nice to see you.” Her last words were said as she was hurrying away, “Hope you like the scarf.”
