Unpredictable Risk (R.I.S.C. Book 5)

by Anna Blakely

Irritated he’d twisted her words from earlier to fit with his agenda, Brynnon squeezed her fist around her keys. “Do you even have a change of clothes?”

  “I packed enough for a week. If this goes longer than that, I can either do my laundry at your place, or run by my apartment for more.”

  Damn. The guy had an answer for freaking everything.

  An image of his boxers mixed with her panties left her flustered. If she had that sort of reaction to his laundry, there was absolutely no way he could stay under the same roof as her.

  “Fine.” She smiled up at him. “I’ll compromise. You can stay parked out front.”

  He shook his head. “Not good enough.”

  With a shrug of her own, she said, “It’s gonna have to be.”

  Spinning on her toes, Brynnon went to her car, got in, and slammed the door harder than necessary. Wrestling with the urge to scream, she started the ignition and shoved the gear shift into drive.

  Not bothering to wait on him, she peeled out of the parking lot and headed toward home.

  Once there, she parked in her drive and walked quickly to her front door. Rather than pulling in directly behind her, as she’d expected, Grant parked his truck in the street against the curb.

  His long legs made it easy to catch up to her, so by the time she’d unlocked the door and was reaching for the knob, he was there. Putting his hand over hers to stop her.

  “I need to clear the house and perimeter.”

  With a quick intake of air, she glanced down at where their hands met.

  “Right. Sorry.”

  Brynnon jerked her hand away and stepped back giving the large man plenty of room to get by.

  “You can come inside but stay by the door until I’m finished.”

  Not waiting for her to respond, Grant removed a gun from his back waistband—one she hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying—and began to swiftly and efficiently check each room in her condo.

  She’d never understood how some women could get turned on by a man with a gun...until now.

  Brynnon watched as he held his weapon out with ease, as though it were a natural extension of his body. Flexing right along with his taut, sinewy forearm, that damn tattoo peeking out from beneath his sleeve continued to tease her.

  When he finally went upstairs to check the bedroom and her office, she took a few seconds to get her head on straight. She needed to get a grip on her neglected hormones now, before she did something stupid like ask him to take off his shirt.

  He could barely stand being around her as it was. Something like that would surely send him running for the hills.

  Maybe if I did ask to see the rest of his tattoo, he’d leave and never come back.

  Disappointment from the thought of never seeing him again was immediate. And ridiculous.

  Brynnon didn’t want him here, and he didn’t want to be here. So why the hell would she care if he left?

  “I don’t,” she whispered to herself.

  “What?”

  Brynnon’s head swung up to see Grant walking toward her from the base of the stairs.

  “What?” Her mind worked like crazy to figure out which part she’d actually verbalized.

  “Thought you said something.”

  “Oh,” she chuckled nervously, willing her pulse back to normal. “No. I mean, I did, but I was just talking to myself.” Yeah, because that sounds perfectly normal.

  “The place is clear. I’m going to check outside. Don’t open the door for anyone other than me.”

  “Yes, sir,” Brynnon gave him a flimsy salute, then cringed inwardly.

  Again, the man was only doing his job. A job he probably wished he’d never agreed to. So why was she acting like such a bitch?

  Because you like him.

  No. That couldn’t be right.

  Sure, when she’d first laid eyes on him at her father’s party, she’d thought he was incredibly sexy. And okay, so maybe she’d thought about that night way more than she should have these past few months.

  But she could see now they were totally incompatible. Brynnon didn’t know how they could manage to be friends, let alone lovers.

  A rush of cold air tore her away from her thoughts as he let himself back inside.

  “Perimeter’s clear as well.” He returned the gun to his waistband.

  “Okay.”

  “Give me your phone.”

  The blunt order took her off guard. “Why?”

  Taking a deep breath, he very patiently explained. “I’d like to put my number in it in case you need me during the night.”

  “You’re not...staying here? With me, I mean?”

  His expression was unreadable. “You made it pretty clear you didn’t want me inside your home.”

  “I didn’t think it mattered what I wanted.”

  Grant’s lips pressed into a hard line. “During the drive here, I thought about what you said. While it’s not how I would prefer to do things, I understand your hesitation.”

  “You do?”

  “You’re a single woman living alone. I could easily overpower you if I wanted.”

  The image of him lying on top of her formed in her mind’s eye. Brynnon wasn’t sure which she felt more...fear or arousal.

  Licking her dry lips, she shook her head. “Exactly. Okay, then.” She handed him her phone. “So, you’ll go home, and I’ll call you if I need anything?”

  He finished adding his name and number to her contact list before answering. “No. I’ll be out front in my truck.”

  “Your truck?” She looked at him as if he’d lost his marbles. “It’s like twenty-nine degrees outside. You’ll freeze!”

  Typically, Decembers in Dallas weren’t horrifically cold. This year, however, the area had already been experiencing record lows.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “This is stupid, Grant. You’ve already checked the place out and as we discussed earlier, the threats my father received were directed toward him not me. So, go home and sleep in your nice, warm bed. I promise if something happens, you’ll be the first person I call.”

  Ignoring her pleas, Grant turned for the door. “Lock this behind me, set the alarm, and work on that list of contacts before you go to bed. I need it by morning.”

  Brynnon shook her head at the stubborn man. If he was expecting her to beg, he could think again.

  “Fine. Whatever. Just don’t oversleep. Open house starts at nine, but I need to be there no later than eight.”

  She thought he may have responded with a low grunt, but wasn’t sure. What she did know was she wasn’t going to waste any more time worrying about his stubborn ass.

  As soon as the door was locked and the alarm set, Brynnon went upstairs into her office and quickly made the list of names and phone numbers he’d requested. After that, she took a hot shower to help ease the tension in her tight muscles.

  Tomorrow was an important day, and she needed to be well-rested and welcoming when the potential buyers arrived.

  Feeling relaxed for the first time all day, Brynnon slid under the covers and laid back on her soft pillow. Closing her eyes, she tried to clear her mind of anything stressful or worrisome, but thoughts of Grant sitting outside in a freezing-cold car kept barging in.

  After nearly an hour of tossing and turning and staring at a blank ceiling, Brynnon gave up. Throwing her covers off, she grabbed her thick robe from the bathroom and stomped back downstairs.

  Not bothering to tie her work boots, she slid them on and stormed outside. Sucking in a breath of cold air, Brynnon held her robe tightly closed and clomped her way down the front steps and through the crunchy grass.

  Grant spotted her immediately and turned his key enough to bring power to the windows.

  Sliding his down, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “My conscience is being a nagging bitch.”

  His brows arched. “I’m sorry?”

  Brynnon huffed out a breath, sending a silvery cloud into the air in front
of her. “You can come inside, but you’re staying on the couch.”

  Understanding crossed over his handsome face. He shook his head. “Don’t want to put you out, Princess.”

  “I told you not to call me that,” she glared. “Look, do you want to come inside or not?” When Grant still didn’t budge, she fought the urge to stomp her foot. “You know what? Forget it. I take it back. You want to freeze your ass off out here, be my guest.”

  Spinning around, Brynnon walked away swiftly. Halfway to the front stoop, she heard his truck door open and shut.

  She smiled in spite of herself, wiping it away before turning to hold the door open for him.

  “Thanks.” He stepped past.

  Heat from his body assaulted her, as did the woodsy scent of soap and something else she couldn’t quite name. Whatever it was, the man smelled positively delicious.

  After re-engaging the locks on her door, Brynnon started for the alarm system on the wall, but Grant had already beaten her to it. She watched, shell-shocked as he entered the correct sequence of numbers.

  “H-how’d you do that?”

  “With my fingers.” He looked at her deadpan.

  A heated flush crawled up her neck as she gave him a sarcastic smile. “Cute. I meant, how do you know my security code?”

  Grant shrugged but remained silent.

  “You’re seriously not going to tell me?”

  “Nope.”

  Too tired to start a whole new argument, Brynnon walked over to a large ottoman she kept in the corner of the living room. She pulled out a blanket and extra pillow before tossing them onto the couch.

  “Bathroom’s in the little hallway behind the stairs as you go to the kitchen. There are plenty of towels and extra toiletries in the closet next to it.”

  “I know.”

  “Right.” Because he’d already cleared the place. “I guess you know where everything is.”

  He gave her a silent nod.

  “If you get hungry, you’re welcome to whatever you can find in the fridge or cabinets. Although, I should probably warn you...I don’t cook much, so there’s not a whole lot in there right now.”

  Another nod.

  Brynnon glanced over at the couch and back to him. There was no way a man of his size was going to be comfortable sleeping on it.

  Feeling a little guilty—but not enough to offer up her own bed—she said, “I’d give you the second bedroom except it’s set up as my office, so there isn’t a bed in there.”

  “I’ve slept on much worse. I’m sure I’ll manage.”

  “Okay. Oh, and also, I use the master bathroom connected to my bedroom.” When he didn’t respond, she added, “I just don’t want you worrying about me walking in on you or anything.”

  “Wasn’t worried.”

  “Good. I mean, I wasn’t either. I just wanted you to know.”

  “Glad we got that settled.”

  “Me, too.” Okay, she seriously needed to stop talking. “Well, I guess that’s it. Goodnight.”

  Brynnon turned away and headed up the stairs. At the top, she thought she heard a quiet, deep voice say, “Goodnight, Princess.”

  ****

  Chapter 3

  “Let me show you the master closet. You won’t believe what I was able to do with the space.”

  Grant watched as Brynnon took yet another couple down the hallway toward the bedrooms. Trying his best to look like another interested buyer—as she’d requested—he skimmed through the before-and-after photo album.

  She’d set it out on the kitchen table to show what the house looked like when she bought it compared to now. He had to admit, she was damn good at her job.

  When they’d first learned what Brynnon did for a living. Coop had assumed she was a silver-spooned brat beauty who paid someone else to be the brawn. Grant had known better.

  The calluses he’d felt on her hands months ago told him she did more than hang a few pictures and smile for the buyers. Watching the way she went about last night and this morning to get things ready for the public showing, he could tell she took great pride in her work.

  Not wanting to step on any toes, he’d done his best to stay out of the way throughout the day. Still, he got a few looks here and there...mainly from the female visitors.

  He caught Brynnon scowling at a few when they’d blatantly flirted with him. But then she had simply put on that fake-as-fuck smile he’d seen her wear the night they first met and went back to being the gracious hostess.

  For some reason, it pissed him off when she did that. She should be able to be herself all the time and not just when it suited the public eye.

  Still waiting for her to get done, Grant grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. Leaning back against the counter, he took a few sips and thought of the way she’d looked when she came outside last night.

  He damn near laughed when he saw her storming toward him in her bathrobe and work boots. Goddamn, she looked adorable. Not that he could tell her that.

  She’d gotten all huffy and basically told him to fuck off, making him unable to sit in that damn truck any longer.

  He told himself he was only taking her up on her offer to sleep on the couch for professional reasons.

  Yeah, right. That’s why your dick was as hard as a goddamn two-by-four the entire night and most of today.

  Grant glanced down at his strained zipper. After checking to make sure Brynnon and the others were still in the bedroom, he adjusted himself as best he could.

  Usually, he had complete control over his body. It was imperative when he was a SEAL and even now as a R.I.S.C. operative. Of course, he could just blame it on the way she was dressed.

  The form-fitting pencil skirt and thin, white blouse was professional and not revealing in the least. Still, he’d nearly swallowed his tongue when he caught his first glimpse of her this morning.

  He’d seen nuns wearing less than she had on, yet his dick had still taken notice. The fucker had been half-hard ever since.

  The pull this woman had on him was confusing as shit, and he fucking hated it. The sooner this assignment is over, the better.

  Even as Grant thought it, a tiny string tugged at the place where his heart used to be. The thought of walking away from her again was unsettling, which was confusing as hell.

  Frustrated with the unfamiliar emotions, he tipped the plastic bottle up, chugging the rest of its contents in one long gulp.

  Using the trash compactor Brynnon had installed to save floor space—one of many brilliant moves on her part—he pressed his booted toe down onto black pedal and waited for its rectangular drawer to slide open before crushing the bottle in his fist and tossing it inside.

  When he shoved the contraption closed a little harder than necessary, it made a loud banging sound right as Brynnon and the couple returned from the bedroom. The three stopped in their tracks, Brynnon’s eyes growing wide as they met his.

  Scrambling for an excuse other than being pissed at his overactive libido, Grant offered an awkward apology.

  “Sorry. This one closes a lot easier than the one at my place.”

  There was no trash compactor at his apartment, but they’d never know that.

  “So.” Brynnon tore the young couple’s attention away from him. “What do you think of the house?”

  The woman looked up at her husband with a hopeful grin. “I love it.”

  He smiled back down at her. “I do, too.” The man turned to Brynnon. “It’s a bit smaller than I’d originally planned on, but I think it would be perfect for our first home.”

  “Great!” Brynnon pulled a card from her skirt pocket. “Here’s my contact information. If you two decide you want to make an offer, just email it to me and I’ll get back with you as quickly as I can. But don’t wait too long. There was another couple here earlier who were planning to talk to the bank after they left. I’m expecting an offer from them, as well.”

  The man looked back at his wife, who appeared nervous at the thou
ght of losing the house to someone else. “We’ll be in touch shortly,” he assured them both. “Don’t worry.”

  The wife’s shoulders relaxed, and though he couldn’t see her face, Grant heard the smile in Brynnon’s voice.

  “Excellent. I look forward to hearing from you.”

  After handshakes were exchanged and goodbyes were given, Brynnon shut the door behind the excited couple and leaned her back against it. Closing her eyes, she let out a loud exhale and gave herself a moment to recharge.

  “That seemed to go well.”

  She looked back at him and smiled. “It went really well.” Excitement lit up her eyes as she pushed herself off the door. “I’ve been doing this long enough to tell the looky-loos from the serious buyers. My gut says I’ll have at least two offers before bedtime.”

  He gave her a nod of approval. “Nice.”

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “It is.”

  Placing her hands on her lower back, Brynnon arched her chest forward and moved her neck to one side and to other to stretch her tired muscles. Though the action was innocent in nature, it pushed her firm breasts forward tightening the thin silk covering them.

  Grant had to fist his hands at his sides to keep from reaching out and taking what he had no business wanting. Luckily, she started to lower her arms before opening her eyes, giving him half a second to raise his gaze back up to her face, where it belonged.

  When Brynnon looked back at him, however, he could’ve sworn she somehow knew what he’d been thinking. Or maybe she was thinking the same about him.

  Maybe it doesn’t matter because even if you wanted to do something about it—which you don’t—you couldn’t, because she’s a fucking client.

  “Are you hungry?”

  The question was innocent, but Jesus. H. Christ. She had no idea what she was doing to him.

  “Very.”

  “Good. So am I.” She looked down at her watch. “I’d really like to make a quick trip to my cabin before we go home.” Her eyes shot to his. “I mean, to my home. To the condo.”

  Her rambling was too fucking cute. “I know what you meant.”

  “Right. Sorry.” She inhaled deeply before letting the air out slowly. “I always get wound up on open house days. So much is riding on them, you know? Or maybe you don’t know.”