Last Tailored Suit

by Pierce, Nicolette

  She smiled. “I’m happy for you. I’d like to get to know her better.” And she meant it. She didn’t know much about Tania. She never seemed like the right woman for Adam, but it sounded like they both changed in the span of a harsh year. “She’s still on my list for not telling me where you were.”

  “I told her not to. She argued with me about it,” he said, standing. “You can blame me for that one.”

  Jenna nodded. “I will.”

  He stooped to give Jenna a hug before walking to the door. “I’ll be at Tania’s if you need me. I’ll stop by later when he’s awake.” He nodded toward Greyson. “I owe him an apology at the very least.”

  * * *

  Greyson woke to the sounds of beeping and an ache in his shoulder. Damn, it hurt. He shifted, trying to ease the pain, but moving only made it intensify.

  “Turn off the damn beeping,” Greyson said, hearing his voice slur as if he were drunk. He cracked his eyes open, wincing as the light pierced.

  “It’s about damn time,” Remy said, turning to face him with crossed arms. “I don’t have all day to wait around on your sorry ass.”

  Greyson reached up to feel his shoulder.

  “You were shot. Now you’ve got a matching set.”

  Greyson groaned. “Go away.”

  “I will. Just came to check on you first.”

  “I’m dying.”

  Remy snorted. “It’s a flesh wound.”

  “It doesn’t feel like a flesh wound.”

  “Well, the bullet went clean through, so think of it as a double paper cut. Those hurt worse than a deep cut.”

  Greyson looked at his shoulder. “I’d rather have the paper cut.”

  Remy nodded. “I’m sure you’ll get a few of those filling out the hospital forms.”

  Greyson let his head loll back. “Is everyone accounted for?”

  “Yep. David is at home. You’re here. Sergio left yesterday.”

  “Where did he go?”

  Remy shrugged. “He’s still got a war going on. Can’t stop because one man is down.”

  “He wasn’t going to harm Jenna, was he?”

  “Never thought he would.”

  Greyson’s eyes rounded. “Where’s Jenna?”

  “Next to you.”

  He scanned the room until his eyes fell on a crumpled bundle in the chair next to him, her hair mused in every direction. An arm stuck out of a blanket at an awkward angle.

  “Is she okay?” Greyson asked, wondering if his eyes were a bit off. She didn’t look anything like his poised Jenna. She was adorably hideous.

  “She hasn’t left your side for two days.”

  “Two days?”

  “Like I said, it’s about damn time you woke your lazy ass up,” Remy said, opening the door to leave. “I’ll be back in a week or two. Three if it gets ugly.”

  “Where are you going?”

  Remy paused before saying, “I’ve waited a long time for the past to catch up with me. It’s time to rewrite it.”

  Greyson stared blankly at the door that Remy disappeared through.

  Rewrite it?

  He didn’t know what Remy meant, and he was sure in his groggy state of mind that nothing made sense.

  He reached out and touched Jenna’s hand.

  Well, maybe one thing made sense.

  His body sank into the bed.

  And he needed sleep.

  That made sense too.

  * * *

  “I’m getting out of bed,” Greyson said to Jenna’s squawking protests.

  “The doctor said you have to rest.”

  “I can rest anywhere. It doesn’t have to be in bed.” He flipped back the covers, cringing at the abrupt movement.

  “See! You’ve already injured yourself.”

  “I’m taking a shower!” he snarled, stomping to the bathroom. “If you continue to harp at me, I’m dragging you in.”

  Jenna pinched her lips tight.

  He could tell she wanted to argue more. But he had had enough. The last week had been nothing but bickering. His head hurt. His body hurt. Everything hurt. He wanted peace. Not forever. Ten minutes would be great.

  He closed the bathroom door and turned the shower knob.

  “Don’t get your shoulder wet,” Jenna warned.

  He sighed and shut off the water.

  A soak in the hot tub would work better. It’d probably feel better too.

  He turned on the water and then the jets when it was full. Stripping off his shirt and pants, he sunk down as far as he could go without wetting his shoulder. He let his head rest against the cool porcelain while the rest of him was submerged in swirling heat.

  It was heaven.

  “I just have to ask him one question!” The demand was made just outside the bathroom door before it was whipped open.

  “Can I help you?” Greyson asked, not bothering with modesty.

  “We’ve hit a snag with the landscaping design,” Frankie said, sitting on the edge of the tub, obviously not bothered by immodesty either.

  “I don’t care about snags,” Greyson said. “Your queen fired me.”

  “Mark fired you?”

  Greyson arched his brow.

  “Oh! You mean Jenna. She can’t really fire you, can she?”

  “I was knocked out on pain pills those first few days. She took over.” Greyson rubbed his forehead. “It can’t be stopped.”

  “I guess you’re right. Let it go, right?” Frankie stopped and groaned. “Jesus, the song Mark’s been singing nonstop just invaded my brain.”

  Greyson closed his eyes and counted to ten. When he opened them again, Frankie was still there, humming. “There was a reason you came in here. What is it?”

  “Oh, right. So, how set are you on your design? I’ve got this cousin who has a fabulous idea. And Mark has an idea or two.”

  “Did you run any of these ideas past Jenna?”

  Frankie nodded. “She’s the snag.”

  “Do it,” Greyson said, a smile brewing.

  “Yay!” Frankie clapped. “Just wait until you see the mirror ball fountain. It’ll knock your socks off. I’ll go order it now. I bet I can have it here by tomorrow.”

  Greyson’s smile grew. “I can’t wait to see it.” He laughed out loud when Frankie left the room. By the time Frankie finished landscaping, the yard was going to look like a drag queen’s fairy tale, and he didn’t care. Not one single bit.

  It felt good.

  And suddenly, he felt better.

  Perhaps it was time to pester Jenna again.

  Chapter 25

  In the past week, Jenna had worked as hard as she could to ready the bed and breakfast. She owed Greyson so much. The least he could do is recover properly and not give her a hard time.

  She wanted to surprise him by having a nearly functional business. She knew it wouldn’t be fully functional. That’d be impossible.

  “What should I do with this?” June asked. “Some man just dropped it off. He was crying like a baby.”

  Jenna took the garment bag from June. “Is he still here?”

  “No. He took off saying what a tragedy it was.”

  “What’s a tragedy?”

  June shrugged.

  “It must be for Greyson,” Jenna said. “I’ll see if he knows anything about it.”

  “The girls and I are heading home for the day. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Thank you for all your hard work,” Jenna said. “I’m so happy you’re all willing to work here full-time.”

  “We are too. We were tired of working at the cleaning service. This has always been our favorite house.”

  Jenna nodded. “Mine too.”

  “See you tomorrow.”

  “Bye,” Jenna called, heading to the staircase. She quickly climbed the stairs and entered Greyson’s bedroom.

  “Hello, Jenna,” Greyson’s voice came from behind her. It sounded smooth, silky. She didn’t trust it.

  Jenna turned and fou
nd he was less than a step away. She moved back. He stepped closer. She held out the garment bag, stopping him.

  “Is this yours? A man just dropped it off.”

  Greyson took the bag and unzipped it. “It must have been the tailor. I forgot I had ordered this suit.”

  “He was crying.”

  “I was his favorite customer.”

  “I’ll hang it up for you,” Jenna said, reaching for the bag.

  Greyson tugged it away. “Don’t. If you have to do something with it, then give it to someone who needs it. Otherwise I’m tossing it in the fire.”

  Jenna glanced at the cold fireplace.

  “I have matches.”

  Jenna rolled her eyes. “I’m hanging it in the closet,” she said, snatching the bag before he could tug it away again.

  “Jenna,” Greyson warned, following her to the closet.

  She whipped open the closet door and hooked the bag onto the rod. “Done.”

  Greyson yanked it down and stormed down the stairs so fast that Jenna had a hard time catching up. She finally caught him at the front door as he swung it open.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To return the suit.”

  “You can’t return it. It was tailored specifically for you.”

  “I’ve paid that man a small fortune. I’ll pay him another just to take the bloody thing back.”

  “You’re being ridiculous.”

  Greyson stopped, pain filled his eyes. “I know it sounds ridiculous. I can’t make you understand. I lost everything that mattered because I was too blind. I was absorbed in my small world, not knowing what was happening around me. These damn suits bound me into a life I thought I wanted.”

  “It wasn’t the suits.”

  “I know. It was me,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “But it’s easier to blame the suits.”

  Jenna stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him. “You still have everything that matters. You didn’t lose anything.”

  She didn’t look up to see his expression; she could feel it in the way his body tensed. She was about to let go, chiding herself for even thinking he’d want a hug from her, when suddenly he changed. His arms wrapped around her, tugging her further into him. It felt like the first time she walked into the mansion. She felt like she was home.

  A car zoomed up the driveway, squealing to a halt at the gate. Greyson let go of Jenna to walk the few yards to the panel. He pressed the button, allowing the gate to roll open.

  They watched as the car rolled through and up to where they stood. Greyson stepped forward as a man hopped out of the driver’s side, engine still running. He held out an envelope to Greyson who took it.

  “You’ve been served,” he said, snapping a picture before jumping back into his car and racing away.

  “What’s going on?” Jenna asked, looking at the envelope.

  Greyson rubbed his forehead. “I have a feeling someone didn’t appreciate being attacked by a hose.”

  Jenna gaped. “The Realtor?”

  Greyson opened the envelope and scanned the papers inside. “Looks like they won’t let me out of the contract. I have to sell with them or they’ll sue.”

  “I thought you could get out of the contract by paying a fee.”

  “You made her mad.”

  “She knocked you to the ground!”

  “Technically I tripped and fell over.”

  “Why are you defending her when she’s suing you?”

  Greyson shrugged. “Facts are facts.”

  “So you’re going to let her win?”

  “Sometimes it’s not about winning.” Greyson slung the garment bag over his shoulder and wrapped his other arm around Jenna, wincing at the movement. “Why don’t we raid Mr. Miller’s wine? He’ll never know.”

  “Greyson!”

  “Okay, he might know, but I’ll take the blame.”

  Jenna’s lips twitched under her scowl.

  * * *

  Jenna had been sleeping in her little room on the third floor now that Adam’s debt was repaid and her life was no longer in danger.

  But at present she sat on the couch in Greyson’s bedroom with a bottle of wine between them.

  It was nearly empty.

  She had wanted to stay down in the kitchen or even the great room, but he wanted to make sure she could roll him to his bed in case he drank too much, said with a glimmer in his eyes. She doubted he ever drank that much.

  But it was comfortable sitting next to him. She thought they’d finally made it through all the barriers and become friends. Sort of. Half of the time she didn’t know what to expect from him.

  Greyson reached for the bottle and topped off Jenna’s glass, draining the last of the bottle.

  “Should I get more?” he asked.

  “Only if you want it.”

  “No, I’m good.”

  “So am I.”

  “Are you?” he asked, glancing at her. “What will happen if I have to sell this place?”

  Jenna’s chest tightened. “Then I’ll start over someplace else. It’s what I do best,” she said, attempting to smile. “But can you find something for the ladies? They quit their jobs to work here.”

  Greyson nodded. “I can do that. What about Frankie and Mark?”

  Jenna’s lips pursed. “I didn’t hire them.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “No. They showed up wanting to help.”

  “That was nice of them.”

  Jenna sighed.

  “It wasn’t nice?” Greyson questioned.

  “I gave them one simple task.”

  “Which was?”

  “To call around for landscapers that’d be able to finish the work on short notice.”

  “And they didn’t?”

  “Oh, they called and then determined that they were better suited for the job.” She snorted. “Have you seen the new design?”

  Greyson shook his head. “No, but I heard a mirror ball fountain was one of the new features, sure to knock my socks off.”

  Jenna groaned. “Maybe it’s better that we can’t open the business.”

  “Some things happen for a reason.”

  She solemnly nodded. “I’ll miss this place. But not Mr. Miller.”

  Greyson’s head fell back with a short laugh. His smile warmed her like a cozy blanket. “And what about Greyson Miller? Will you miss him?”

  “He’s not so bad.”

  A lingering gaze caught them for a moment until awkward silence rolled through.

  Jenna set her wine glass on the coffee table and stood. “I should head to bed. It looks like tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

  “Why?” Greyson asked, standing as well.

  “I’ll have to find a lawyer and see if the Realtor actually has a case.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “But I’m the manager. I’ll take care of it.”

  Greyson smiled. “And I’m Mr. Miller, feared by all.”

  Jenna clucked her tongue. “Don’t be silly. I owe you so much. Let me fix this.”

  “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “Are you kidding? I owe you my life and my brother’s life. You were shot because of us. You said employees weren’t good for your health, and I didn’t believe you. Not to mention the bags and bags of clothes that keep arriving.”

  “Well, maybe the clothes,” he said.

  “Greyson!” Jenna smacked his uninjured arm. “I’m serious. I owe you, and I want to fix this.”

  “I’m serious too. You don’t owe me anything.”

  “Why? How could I not —”

  Greyson’s lips touched hers. It was a tentative, fleeting kiss that surprised her and, from his wide expression, surprised him too.

  Their eyes locked, neither one moving closer nor retreating.

  “Jenna,” Greyson started.

  She backed away, hearing regret in his voice. “I think I’ll head to bed. My bed,” she specified then kicked herself for
the obvious. She turned to bolt.

  “Wait.”

  She didn’t. Her feet moved quickly as she fled down the hall and up the stairs to her bedroom. She raced in and whipped the door closed.

  “Son of a . . .” Greyson’s muffled curse sounded through the door.

  Oh, no!

  Jenna ran back to the door, opening it to find Greyson holding his shoulder.

  “Are you hurt?” she asked. “I didn’t know you followed me.”

  “Obviously,” he said, stepping into the room.

  Jenna inched back. “Do you want ice?”

  “No.”

  Jenna scooted further away. “Pain meds?”

  “No.”

  She was running out of space, and Greyson kept advancing. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. You don’t have to look like you want to take a bite out of me.”

  “What if that’s exactly what I want?” his reply was smooth, soaking through her.

  His tone was at odds with his expression. She didn’t know how to read him, and he kept closing in.

  She squeaked as he reached out, his hand wrapping around her arm.

  “I . . . uh . . . oh,” Jenna stammered as Greyson reeled her in.

  His head lowered, dipping toward her lips. Oh, my. Jenna wasn’t prepared for this. Was he really going to kiss her after he sounded repentant just moments ago?

  His mouth was so close. She could feel the tickle of his beard.

  “Stop thinking,” he said.

  “I’m not.”

  His soft laugh brushed against her. “You are too.”

  “I am not.”

  His fingers threaded through her hair. He gently tugged down, tilting her face up to him. “Are too.”

  Before Jenna could retort with a witty “am not,” he kissed her.

  His mouth moved against hers, gentle at first. She savored each breath, each whisper of his lips against hers.

  She wanted this. She had known it for awhile. But did he want her, or was she just the warm body that happened to be in front of him?

  Did it matter?

  No.

  Yes.

  Well, not right now. Not when there was a growing ache, a need for this man who was kissing her.

  “For the love of God, stop thinking!” he growled, sweeping her over to the bed and dumping her on top.