Last Tailored Suit

by Pierce, Nicolette

  “He left town last night,” Greyson said.

  “I think you can twist his arm to come back,” David said, disconnecting.

  Greyson thought it was worth a shot. He dialed Remy and left a message when it went to voicemail. For some reason, Greyson had the feeling that Remy had his own troubles. But at least Remy could sort it out on his own. Jenna, on the other hand, was another story. She was in over her head, and it was a miracle that she hadn’t been caught yet.

  Greyson’s hand clenched around his phone. If he ever found her brother . . . Greyson shoved the phone into his pocket with a disgusted huff and returned to the kitchen to finish his lunch . . . and to make sure Jenna didn’t try to leave again.

  He didn’t know what was going to be more challenging, keeping Jenna on property or finding her brother and the men who wanted her dead.

  * * *

  As Jenna repeated her story to David, her eyes drifted to Greyson as he paced the living room floor. When she finished, Greyson turned to David. “Well?” Greyson asked. “What do you think?”

  “I have two options,” David said. “The long way or the short way.”

  “What’s the short way?” Greyson asked.

  “Bait them.”

  “With Jenna?”

  David nodded.

  Greyson scowled. “The long way.”

  “You don’t have to help,” Jenna interrupted. “I’ll find another place to hide.”

  Both men looked at her with such piercing eyes they effectively silenced any further protest. She didn’t understand their willingness to help. She was practically a stranger. Why would they risk their necks for her? It didn’t make sense, especially knowing the danger.

  “Do you think it’s drugs?” David asked Jenna. “Was there a missed drop?”

  “I really don’t know.”

  “With that kind of cash, it has to be something illegal,” Greyson said. “And at this point, it doesn’t matter. Until they get money or blood or both, they’re going to keep coming.”

  “Both?” Jenna asked.

  David nodded. “Most likely both.”

  Jenna felt as if the air had thickened and was closing around her. Greyson glared at David.

  David frowned and reached over to pat Jenna’s hand. “I’ve never lost a person yet,” he said and then looked to Greyson, who was still glaring. “Is Remy on his way?”

  “No. I left a message, but he hasn’t returned my call.”

  David scratched his jaw. “Hopefully he’ll call soon. He can’t stay away when danger is calling.”

  “I think he has his own problems,” Jenna said.

  Greyson looked at her questioningly.

  “I heard him say something on the phone when I was falling asleep,” Jenna explained.

  “What did he say?” David asked.

  “The traitor was back.”

  “Are you sure that’s what you heard?” David asked, leaning close.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Shit,” David breathed, collapsing back in the chair. “We’ll have to work without him.”

  “What traitor?” Greyson asked.

  David shook his head. “Not my story to tell. Let’s just say it’s a personal battle for Remy.”

  “All right,” Greyson said, rubbing the back of his neck. “What do we do now?”

  “You stay put, and l’ll go do my thing,” David said as he stood. “Keep your phone on. I’ll have questions for Jenna.”

  “What are you going to do?” Jenna asked, worried. She didn’t want David to get hurt, especially with a baby on the way.

  “Just a little investigating right now. I’ll put out feelers for your brother.”

  “But what if the men find you?” Jenna asked.

  “That’s what I’m hoping,” he said with a smile. As he headed out, Greyson trailed behind, leaving Jenna in the living room.

  “What do you want me to do?” Greyson asked before David could leave.

  “Nothing,” David said.

  “Nothing?” Greyson repeated. “I can’t sit here and not do anything.”

  “Work on your garden.” David smirked.

  “Dammit! Don’t shut me out. Tell me what you want me to do.”

  “What the hell do you think I want you to do?” David questioned, looking at Greyson as if he was an idiot.

  Greyson scowled. He didn’t know what to do. Give him a merger or acquisition and he’d handle it, but not this.

  “Have you already forgotten?” David asked. “You’ve been wallowing in your garden too long.”

  “What have I forgotten?”

  “You’ve lost your edge,” David replied. “When the casino was in trouble, you acted. When Nadia was in trouble, you acted.”

  “I didn’t,” Greyson said. “Not when she needed me the most.”

  “You’re going to have to forgive yourself. Until then, your job is to protect Jenna. I can’t investigate and protect.”

  Greyson nodded. “I can do that.”

  “I know you can,” David said, stepping outside. “Just think of her as a project.” David teasingly winked and jogged to his car.

  Greyson closed the door as David blazed down the driveway and past the gate. His hand was still resting on the solid wood door when he heard movement behind him. He turned to find Jenna standing, watching him with a look that bordered on sympathy and panic.

  “I didn’t mean to listen,” Jenna said.

  Greyson took a deep breath and straightened, letting his hand fall to his side. “Don’t worry about it.”

  They gazed at each other in awkward silence.

  “Um, what about my SUV?” Jenna asked.

  “We’ll leave it where it is,” Greyson said. “If it’s still parked at the casino, hopefully they’ll think you’re still there too.”

  “All of my clothes are in there.”

  “You can borrow mine until we can get them.”

  “But . . .”

  “Jenna, I can guarantee they’re watching your vehicle. They’ll spring on you as soon as you appear.”

  Jenna nodded, and Greyson breathed a little easier. If she continued to be this reasonable, it’d be easy to protect her. He activated the alarm and headed for the stairs, stopping when he realized she wasn’t following.

  “Do want some clothes or not?” he asked.

  “Oh,” Jenna started. “Yes, of course.”

  She followed Greyson to his bedroom, stopping short at the door.

  “You can come in,” Greyson said, wondering why she was shy all of a sudden.

  “I’ll stay out here,” she said.

  “It’d be better if you came in, so you can see the clothes.”

  Jenna hesitated.

  What happened to his miniature commander in chief? Only two days ago she’d barged into his room like a little disgruntled warrior. Now she wouldn’t step beyond the door.

  “Come in,” Greyson repeated.

  Jenna frowned but did as he asked. He pulled out a drawer filled with T-shirts and sweatpants.

  “Pick whatever you want. I know they’ll be too big, but it’ll get you through a couple of days.”

  She looked down at the drawer. “I’m really sorry about this. I didn’t want to involve you. I know you have more important things to worry about than my problems.”

  Actually, he didn’t. And that was both a blessing and a source of internal conflict. “I’m happy to help,” he said, realizing that he meant it.

  Jenna scanned his face. Apparently she had a hard time believing the statement.

  It was odd. No matter how much she frustrated and tormented him with her overbearing ways, he admired her for those same traits. Her drive for success matched his.

  Her current adrift state matched his as well.

  Except for height, she matched him perfectly.

  With a sudden jolt of trepidation and surprised longing, he fell into the nearby chair.

  What was happening? He couldn’t possibly have feelin
gs for Jenna. But as soon as the thought was there, he knew it was certain. An unshakable, unavoidable fact.

  Greyson wanted Jenna.

  He didn’t need this complication. Not now. Not when he was ready to give up everything and move.

  Chapter 13

  The back of Jenna’s neck tingled. She knew Greyson was watching her as she rummaged through his drawers, making her feel uncomfortable about the whole situation. She tried to pick out an outfit as quickly as possible, but everything was large.

  Like him.

  Even his presence was overwhelmingly large.

  “Do you need help?” Greyson asked, his voice thick.

  Jenna glanced over and immediately wished she hadn’t. Must he stare at her so intensely? It was as if he was trying to cut a hole through her with his eyes.

  She looked back at the drawer, which was now messy from her rummaging, avoiding his eye contact. He must be irritated with her. It wasn’t her fault, and she wasn’t going to feel guilty about it. She had tried to leave, but he wouldn’t let her.

  “I don’t need help,” she finally said.

  Greyson stood and moved closer, reaching an arm around her. She jumped in surprise and then calmed when his hand passed her and into the drawer. He fished around until he brought out a shirt and soft running pants.

  “Try these on,” Greyson said.

  Jenna took them with a nod and turned toward the bathroom. When she was about to close the door, Greyson said, “I’m sorry. You’ll have to use a different bathroom. That one is for Mr. Miller’s personal use only.”

  Jenna stopped in the doorway. “Oh. You’re right.” Flustered, she turned to escape. What was she thinking? She shouldn’t even be in his room.

  Greyson caught her with one arm as she hurried past. “Jenna, I was teasing,” he said with a small laugh, his arm still circled around her, drawing her close.

  Her heart thundered at the way his arm kept her prisoner, as his voice slid through her, and his clean scent blanketed her.

  She looked up at him, confused. He stared back with the same confusion. They stood there together until finally Jenna had the sense to distance herself.

  He looked at her as if he didn’t know whether to shake her or . . . could it be that he wanted to kiss her? And, for some inexplicable reason, she wouldn’t have minded his kiss. The man irritated the hell out of her . . . and yet . . .

  Greyson’s arm fell to his side as Jenna stepped back.

  “I’ll just try this on,” she said, slipping into his bathroom, locking the door behind her.

  This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when her life was in chaos.

  Not that it mattered. Nothing seemed to matter when there were men out for blood.

  Jenna hurried and changed into Greyson’s selection.

  “Oh, this will never work,” Jenna mumbled, seeing her reflection in the mirror. She cringed.

  It was bad enough that her hair was a tangled mess from not having a brush, but now — she tugged the baggy pants up to her chest — now, she looked as if she was a kid dressing in her parents’ clothes.

  “Jenna,” Greyson called from beyond the door. “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t think this will work,” Jenna replied.

  There was a pause. “What won’t work?”

  Everything, she silently answered.

  “These are too big,” she said. “I can’t keep the pants up. Do you have a belt?”

  “Open the door and let me see.”

  “No!” Jenna clutched the waistband. “I’m not opening the door. Just find a belt or rope.”

  “Jenna . . .”

  “I’ll just change back into my clothes.” Her nose crinkled. She didn’t want to. They were dirty from hiding behind the fortune wheel all night. Judging from the enormous dust bunnies she’d seen, the casino didn’t bother to clean behind the giant wheel.

  “I’ll get a belt,” Greyson said. “Hang on a second.”

  Jenna waited only a few moments before he rapped on the door. She cracked it open a fraction and stuck out her hand. As soon as she felt the belt graze her hand, she yanked it from his grasp and slammed the door, nearly crushing his fingers.

  “Sorry!” she called out. “I was about to lose my pants.”

  Jenna secured the bulky material with the expensive leather belt Greyson had provided and let the shirt hang to her knees.

  One last glance into the mirror confirmed she looked as ridiculous as she felt.

  “Does the belt help?” Greyson asked.

  Jenna opened the door and let him judge for himself.

  “Well . . .” He scanned the length of her with wide eyes. “Um . . .”

  “You can say it,” she sighed.

  Amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes. “I take it you shop in the petite section. You look like you’re drowning.”

  “I’m average height,” she argued.

  “In high heels, perhaps.”

  Jenna scowled because she knew he was right, and when his face lit into a grin, she knew he did too.

  “If you’re going to laugh, then I’m changing back into my dusty outfit.”

  “I’m not going to laugh,” he said, but still wearing the grin that was becoming rather hard to ignore . . . and resist. “Why don’t you just wear the shirt?” he suggested. “It hangs to your knees anyway.”

  Jenna shook her head. She was not going to run about the house in nothing but a T-shirt, even though it could pass for a dress.

  Greyson slid his phone from his pocket. Jenna silently wondered what he was up to until she heard a squealed greeting from the other end.

  It had to be Mya.

  “Do you feel up for a shopping trip?” he asked into the phone.

  Jenna could hear her enthusiastic yes from where she stood, still cowering at the edge of the bathroom.

  “It’s for Jenna,” he said. “Buy her everything she needs to last her a week or so.”

  “No!” Jenna blurted.

  Greyson eyed her. “Would you rather wear my clothes?”

  “No, but . . .”

  Greyson waited with an arched brow.

  “You can’t buy me clothes!”

  “Why not?”

  “Because . . .” she flustered. “You just can’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “Nothing about this entire situation is ‘right’,” he said, exasperated. “I’m not going to get your clothes from your car, and I don’t want you to leave the property to buy your own. Plus, Mya loves to shop.”

  Jenna heard Mya’s agreement and gave a reluctant nod. “I’m paying you back.”

  A mysterious smile lifted the corners of his lips, making her wary.

  As Greyson ended the call with Mya, Jenna looked over to her dirty clothes heaped on the floor. She didn’t want to change into them, however, by the sound of it, she didn’t think Mya was going to complete her shopping excursion within a matter of hours. More like days. Jenna didn’t even want to ponder the final cost. She had a sour feeling that’s why Greyson agreed with his secret smile.

  “Do you have any dress shirts?” Jenna asked.

  “They’re in the closet,” he said. “Help yourself.”

  Jenna crossed over to his walk-in closet and opened the door. One entire wall was covered floor to ceiling in shoes. They were all expensive leather. His dress shirts took up the next wall. Empty hangers filled the third. She eyed them curiously.

  “Suits,” he filled in her silent question.

  “Where are they?”

  “Gone. For good.” His answer was raspy. He cleared this throat. “I’ll leave you to get dressed.”

  Greyson departed so quickly, she could only stare at his vanishing form in wonder. All of his suits were gone? What did that even mean?

  Jenna pulled a deep-blue shirt from a hanger and took it back to the bathroom with her. As her hands were occupied knotting the shirt into a dress, her mind puzzled. And it wasn’t about the men who were after her. No, it was
about a man who was missing a wall worth of suits.

  * * *

  With long, determined strides, Greyson arrived at his garden. He’d had every intention of scrapping the project since his property was now on the market, but he needed the distance, the fresh air.

  He had to think, or at least try to. He knew that wouldn’t happen with Jenna near . . . wearing his clothes. It was as if his brain had seized.

  Greyson had to come up with a plan to protect Jenna while David tracked her pursuers. With his gated property and alarmed house, he knew she was safe for now. But determined criminals could bypass all security. He had to outmaneuver them. Perhaps even hire guards.

  Greyson knew of one way. However, he wasn’t quite ready to bundle up Jenna and fly her away. Not quite yet. And not when there was a good chance David could settle matters within a few days.

  He hoped.

  Greyson worked relentlessly until five o’clock when his stomach protested, having already missed lunch.

  He didn’t bother showering. His feet were on autopilot, navigating their way to the kitchen. They picked up the pace when he detected a savory scent wafting from there.

  “Something smells . . .” his words stuck in his throat when he rounded the corner and saw Jenna standing barefoot at the stove with nothing on but his blue dress shirt. She had it fashioned in such a way that it could pass for a dress. The shirt arms were crisscrossed over her chest and tied behind her neck, her shoulders and arms were bare.

  And here he had been concerned about the skimpy outfits Mya was sure to purchase, probably at this very moment. Nothing she could buy would have the same effect as Jenna’s current state of dress.

  Greyson shoved his hands into his pocket to keep from reaching out.

  Jenna looked over at him for a moment, but then quickly turned back to the stove, stirring.

  “It smells good,” Greyson said.

  “Thank you. It should be done soon.” Jenna’s gaze flickered over to him again. “You have about five minutes if you want to shower.”

  “Shower,” Greyson repeated absentmindedly as he stared at her bare legs. With a shake of his head, he turned and fled to his room.

  Cold shower. Cold, cold, icy-cold shower.