Giving It All

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Giving It All Page 8

by Arianna Hart


  “What warehouse?”

  “Your dad rented space at a warehouse down the other end of town. There were so many online orders that he had to increase inventory, so he kept a few of everything at the store, but the bulk of it was across town. That’s why the computerized inventory system was so important. Every time he pulled something from the warehouse, it was automatically logged into the system so he could keep track of how much to order and when he was getting low of popular items. The downside was, if he ran out of anything at the store, he or Anita had to trek down to the other side of town to get it.”

  Grant couldn’t believe his father had grown the business so much that they needed a warehouse. His mind reeled at how much he didn’t fucking know about his own family’s business. While he’d been moping over his failed marriage and injury, his father had jumped into the Digital Age and left Grant behind.

  “How much of the business is online?”

  “Honestly, the majority of it. The physical store barely pays the rent and taxes. The bulk of the income comes from the online orders. But your father wouldn’t close down the store. He said he and his brother opened it together. It was their dream to have this business, and he couldn’t let Tom down.”

  “Yeah, Uncle Tom was in Vietnam. From what my mom has said, when he came back, he wasn’t the same. Opening the store gave him a direction, something positive he could do and might have saved his life.” Coming back to civilian life had been hard for Grant, and he had the benefit of programs that weren’t available to Vietnam vets. He had no idea how Uncle Tom had managed it when it seemed like the whole country was against him.

  Yet another reason to make sure Greg didn’t fuck up the business.

  “Here’s how it’s going to run. When we get in, you’ll hit the computer and download anything that seems off. Don’t try to analyze it now, just grab and go. I’ll search the office and take pictures of all the papers so we can look at them later. If anyone comes to the door, you grab the flash drive and bail out the back while I deal with the intruder. Can you run in those shoes?”

  “Not for long, but, yes. Do you really think there will be any trouble?” Her voice was tight with anxiety.

  “No, but it pays to be prepared.” Grant checked to make sure the power was off on his BiOM. The last thing he needed was to have the hydraulics give him away again. With no power helping to push his foot along, it felt heavy and dead, but that was a minor irritant. “Let’s go.”

  He held the keys tightly in his hand to keep them silent as he eased the door open. The security panel blinked red and he entered the digits of his father’s birthday. The red light kept blinking.

  “Shit. Greg must have changed the code.” Where the hell was Dingo when he needed him?

  “Try zero five one three,” Ellie whispered.

  Grant punched in the numbers Ellie gave him and the light turned green. First hurdle down.

  “I thought that might work,” she said as she slipped past him to the office.

  “What’s zero five one three?”

  “Greg’s birthday.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I keep the books. I know everyone’s birthday and their social security numbers too. That will come in handy when I log into Greg’s account.”

  “You have them memorized?” The teams had trained him to remember huge amounts of information, but that wasn’t a skill most civilians had.

  “I remember every number I’ve ever seen,” she said distractedly as she booted up the computer.

  Grant didn’t know what to think about that, so he mentally filed it under to be dealt with later and started taking pictures. For a while, the only noise was the mouse clicking and Ellie typing. When he had finished photographing everything on the desk, he moved to the filing cabinet.

  “Don’t waste your time on anything that has a green label, I have all of that on my computer. Things with red or blue tabs are retirement and miscellaneous, so grab those. Focus on anything after July of last year, everything else I should have.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Grant smiled to himself at Ellie’s authoritative tone. She might have followed his lead before, but she was in her element now, and he knew enough to listen to the person with the most information. He didn’t bother reading the papers, just snapped a picture and moved to the next.

  He was only halfway through the second file drawer when the timer on his watch vibrated, letting him know their time was almost up.

  “Finish up whatever you have. We need to be out of here in five minutes.”

  “I’m almost done.”

  Grant didn’t recognize the strings of symbols she was typing furiously, but figured she knew what she was doing. He concentrated on putting the desk back exactly the way it was when they arrived. With the number of papers crumpled up and strewn about, he doubted Greg would notice if anything was out of place, but old habits die hard.

  His timer went off again. “Time to move out.”

  Ellie was already removing the flash drive and shutting the computer down. “I’m ready.”

  Grant remembered to reset the alarm before he locked the door behind them. They were in the car and on their way in no time. Slick as snake spit, as his father used to say.

  “I did what you said and just grabbed what I could without looking closely, but there definitely is something hinky going on. The numbers don’t add up. I added a program that will clone the information and send it to me, but that will only work if Greg actually uses the computer. There aren’t a lot of entries since January.”

  “You hacked your own program?”

  “It’s not hacking when I created it in the first place. It’s modifying it, and if you hire me back I’m following the client’s wishes.”

  “Oh, yeah, you’re hired back. Hell, I may make you a partner.”

  “No, thanks. I have enough on my plate with my own business.”

  Grant had a feeling by the time they analyzed all the information they’d gathered, his plate would be plenty full as well.

  Chapter Eight

  Ellie groaned as the alarm went off—again. She’d hit Snooze at least three times and knew she had to get up, but she was so tired. She and Grant hadn’t gotten back from Canton until close to four in the morning. By the time her nerves had settled down, it had been almost five and the sun was beginning to creep over the horizon.

  Four hours of sleep was not enough for her to function like a coherent human being. Unfortunately, she needed to get the lawn mowed and make six dozen cookies for the library bake sale before two this afternoon. Thank God, she’d been smart enough to do any work that required a modicum of brain power yesterday. Yay her.

  She yanked off the covers with all the reluctance and pain of ripping off a Band-Aid and stumbled to the kitchen to start the coffee maker. It gurgled happily as she used the bathroom and brushed her teeth. Maybe with a pot or two of coffee in her she’d be able to survive long enough to get everything done and take a nap.

  Fueled with coffee and toast, she threw on her rattiest sneakers, cut-off shorts and a tank top to mow the lawn. No sense taking a shower before she did the yard work since she’d just get all sweaty and covered in grass anyway.

  The morning was bright—way too bright for her sleep-deprived eyes—and clear and already headed toward hot. It might be spring in the rest of the country, but Dale was charging straight into summer. Fantastic. Nothing like mowing the lawn in ninety degrees of heat and humidity and then heating the house up baking cookies.

  Stop whining. No one said you had to go into town last night with Grant, and no one is forcing you to mow the lawn now either.

  Ellie took a deep breath and shook off her complaints. She was sure Mrs. Anderson wouldn’t care if she let the lawn go for another day, but Ellie would know it wasn’t done and it would drive her crazy. “OCD isn’t for sissies,” she s
aid aloud as she opened the garage door.

  The mower was self-propelled and in good shape and started up with the push of a button. Before long, she’d made the first two passes diagonally across the lawn and settled into her zone. Yard work was very meditative for her. It didn’t require a lot of thought and left her mind free to figure out other things.

  If she managed to get the cookies done and didn’t get roped into working the bake sale, she could take a nap and then maybe start looking over the files she’d downloaded from Anderson’s last night. There was something off with the financials and it was niggling in the back of her brain like a sore tooth. Numbers were constant. Two plus two always equaled four. That was what she liked about them. They were always there when she needed an answer. So when they didn’t add up right, it bothered her something fierce.

  She was halfway done with the backyard when a heavy hand landed on her shoulder and she shrieked. Her hands flew up in the air and the kill switch on the mower activated, stopping the engine. Ellie whirled around and saw Grant standing there with his hands on his hips.

  “Would you wear a bell or something? You’re going to give me a heart attack if you keep sneaking up on me like that.”

  “I called your name, several times. Loudly.”

  “I guess I didn’t hear you over the mower.” Duh. “What’s up? Did I wake you?”

  “Wake me? I’ve already been to the gym. Why are you up? And why are you mowing the lawn?”

  He’d already been to the gym? What the heck? They’d been back less than five hours and it was an hour drive to the gym. “Did you sleep at all?”

  “Some, but I got up with Mom so I could help Dad into the bathroom. Even with all the weight he’s lost, he’s still a lot for her to handle. Why are you up? You couldn’t have gotten more than a few hours of sleep yourself.”

  “I have a ton to do today. I need to finish the lawn, make cookies for the library bake sale, and I’m hoping to get a nap in and maybe spend an hour on your files before I prep for some client appointments tomorrow. If I don’t get moving on this, it’ll throw off my whole schedule,” she said, hoping he’d get the hint to let her get back to it. Already, she could see her dreams of a power nap fading.

  “Don’t my folks have a lawn service? Hell, there has to be some high school kid who wants to make a few bucks mowing lawns.”

  “What for?” Ellie asked, offended. “Helping out in the yard is part of my rent. I pay next to nothing for the apartment, doing this balances things out.”

  “I think taking care of Dad when Mom needs you more than covers your rent.”

  “Maybe, but your mom doesn’t need another thing to worry about.” She reached for the start button but his hand intercepted hers. A flash of heat washed over her and her mouth dried up.

  “I’m here now. I can take over the lawn work.”

  “But it’s part of my rent,” she said, trying to focus on his words and not on the way his callused palm felt against the top of her hand.

  “I’ve got this. Consider it payment for last night’s work.”

  “But—” He had moved closer while she was still in a fog and she could see the dark ring around the light blue of his irises. This close, she noticed the golden scruff of whiskers on his chin and a few white scars along his neck. She found her gaze drawn to his strong mouth. A very irrational part of her wanted to lean in the few inches that separated them and rub her lips along his. Just the thought made her lick her lips.

  He slid his hand up her body before slipping it through her hair to grasp her head. He brushed his thumb over her lips and she gasped at the heat of that simple touch. An arc of electricity flared between them, sizzling along her nerves like a lightning strike. Her normally active brain seemed to be in stasis, because she couldn’t form a coherent thought, unless Want! counted as a thought and not a need.

  Grant didn’t give her poor, beleaguered brain a chance to catch up before he tipped her face to meet his. His lips caressed hers, gently brushing them once, then twice, as though waiting for her to refuse him.

  As if!

  Ellie moaned softly and leaned into the kiss, pulling his lower lip between her teeth and nipping lightly. She traced her tongue along the sensitive underside, teasing him and learning the feel of him too. It was Grant’s turn to moan as he gripped her head tighter in his strong hand and took charge of the kiss. He swept his tongue into her mouth, eagerly twining with hers.

  Heat burned through her veins, scorching her from the inside out. Her breasts felt swollen, the nipples sensitized and aching for contact. She moved closer, wanting to rub herself against his hard chest, to get closer to the very flame that burned her.

  In her enthusiasm, she totally forgot about the lawn mower that was in the way and wacked her hip against the handle. The contact made her yelp in pain, breaking the sensual cocoon surrounding them.

  Grant jumped back like he’d been scalded. Ellie didn’t know what to do with her hands or her raging hormones. The situation had changed too fast for her to catch up. One second they were arguing about her mowing the lawn, the next he was kissing the daylights out of her. Now he was a foot away from her, breathing as hard as if he’d just run a race.

  “What the hell was that?” he asked, his chest heaving.

  “I believe it’s commonly known as a kiss.” Was he sorry he’d kissed her? Embarrassed? God, what if he hadn’t made the move, she had and he’d just gone along with it? “If you’re okay here, I’ll go bake some cookies. Thanks for taking over.” She didn’t give him a chance to answer, just ran for the stairs, her face flaming and her hands shaking. Her libido cried out for her to go back and tackle him to the ground to see what more he could do with that fabulous mouth of his. Her brain, which had finally decided to start working again, told her to go before she made a fool of herself.

  She wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or disappointed that her brain won the battle.

  Grant watched Ellie scamper up the stairs to her apartment like all the hounds of hell were after her. Her legs flashed as she took the stairs, and he took a moment to appreciate the length of her limbs in the tiny denim shorts. Holy shit, she packed one hell of a punch for an accountant.

  He hadn’t been thinking about playing tonsil hockey when he’d leaned in for the kiss. His thoughts had been more along the lines of testing the waters after the little peck she’d given him the other night. But when she’d made that low, sexy hum in the back of her throat and taken the kiss to the next level, his whole body had reacted. He’d been trying to figure out if she was wearing a bra under her tank top, and if so, how he could get it off, when she’d bumped against the fucking lawn mower.

  Damn.

  What the hell was she doing mowing the lawn anyway? His mother had said she helped out with the yard work, but he thought she’d meant watering the flower boxes or something, not mowing an acre of grass. He started the mower up and took over where Ellie had left off before she could come down and fight him about it.

  How much did she pay for rent? Was it really so little that she felt she had to work like a field hand to offset it? How much was that dinky place worth anyway? It wasn’t like Dale was San Francisco where a 200-square-foot apartment could run a grand or more per month in rent. He’d have to ask his mom for more details. At the rate she was going and with all she did, Ellie would run herself ragged by the time she was thirty. He’d been home three days and she’d taken care of his father twice, helped him out last night, had clients calling her on the weekends, mowed half a lawn and was now baking cookies for some bake sale or another. Mowing the lawn was the least he could do to repay all she’d done for his folks. And maybe building up another sweat so soon after his workout at the gym would help deflate the erection he was currently sporting before he went in and faced his mom.

  It didn’t take long to finish the rest of the yard. This mower was a hell of a
lot better than the one he’d used in high school, that was for sure. After he stowed the mower in the garage, he headed inside, dying for a shower and a glass of iced tea. The sock over his stump was soaked with sweat and rubbing him raw.

  The smell of his mom’s coffee cake baking filled the kitchen and made his stomach growl. He saw two pans cooling on the counter and beelined to them to steal a hunk of cinnamon and sugar deliciousness.

  “Grant Edward! Don’t you dare touch those cakes. They’re for the library bake sale,” his mom said as she strode into the kitchen.

  Damn, his mom always did have a sixth sense for misbehaving sons. “There’s two cakes here and another in the oven. They won’t miss a little square.” His stomach growled again.

  “I sell them as whole cakes, so they most certainly would notice a chunk missing out of the middle of it. There’s plenty left from the cake I made yesterday, you can have that.”

  “But it’s not warm out of the oven,” he teased, heading to the fridge to get some iced tea.

  “Use the microwave.”

  “That’s harsh, Mom. Harsh.”

  “You’re a grown man. I think you can take it.”

  Grant helped himself to the rest of the coffee cake he was allowed to eat and poured a huge glass of iced tea. As he ate, he watched his mom wrap the cakes up in cellophane and tie a ribbon around each one. While he was growing up, his mom had been active in the community. It seemed like there was always a bake sale for the church or the library or Garden Club. She’d been on the PTA the Beautify Dale committee and so many other organizations he couldn’t remember them all. But how much could she still do with his dad so disabled? Did she resent missing out on all her social activities? Would she start to resent his dad like Chastity had resented him?

  “Do you know when Ellie’s heading over to the library? I was hoping she could take my coffee cakes with her when she goes.”

  “Why don’t you go with her? I can stay here with Dad.”

  “That’s sweet of you, honey, but I’d rather be with him than with a bunch of biddies trying to talk people into buying their cookies or pies or whatnot like it was a competition instead of a fundraiser. As if it matters who sells the most. All the money is going to help buy a printer anyway, it’s not like they get a cut of it.”

 

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