by Lulu Pratt
“Wow,” is all I can say.
“His brother miraculously intercepts the deceased at the morgue. He shows up and rules no foul play was involved, saving the ‘grieving’ spouse from murder charges or further investigation. He and Brick split the earnings and then repeat the process.”
“How have they not been found out?” I ask, taking a seat next to her on the bed.
A sad sigh precedes her answer. “Brick and his brother are pretty powerful in Ravenwood. Most people fear them and the others have been bought with the promise to stay out of their way. They get away with a lot.”
I don’t doubt it but I still want to know where she comes into the picture.
“What happened between you two?”
“I challenged him. He was so manipulative and controlling during our relationship because he was used to getting his way. The infidelity and emotional abuse really did a number on me. He somehow managed to make me believe that no one would want my damaged goods if I left him. Young and naïve, I believed him. At least for a while.”
“Shit, Grace. I’m sorry he did that to you.”
She gives a mirthless laugh, dismissing my words.
“It came with the territory. Or so I thought. I thought we were going through a rough patch and that things would eventually get better.”
“When did you realize they wouldn’t?”
Grace releases a shaky breath.
My hand finds hers in a silent offering of support.
“About a year too late. He started threatening me, telling me if I left he would kill me and have his brother cover it up. Said if I ever tried to tell someone, no one would believe me because everyone has a price. He would just buy their silence.”
Livid, I take controlled breaths and study her profile. She’s so composed, her strength admirable.
“So why do you think he’s looking for you now? After all this time?”
“Who knows,” she shrugs. “When I finally left, I stole about five-hundred thousand dollars cash from him before I hightailed it out of town. I dumped it in the ocean before I came here. As much as I could have used it, I didn’t want blood money. I just wanted to hit him where it hurt.”
“Damn,” I admire her guts. I’m more determined than ever to keep her out of harm’s way.
“He probably made it back in a few weeks’ time, but I suspect he’s ready to hold up his promise. My mom called me yesterday and told me he’s hired someone to track me down.”
My head snaps towards her at this news.
Shit.
Reading her face, I try to determine if she has any inclination that I’m that someone. Her face doesn’t reveal anything.
She continues solemnly, “My first instinct is to run again but I know it’s a short-term solution for a long-term problem. He will eventually find me and I’ll have to face him.”
Grace’s words are resolute and hopeless. She doesn’t see another option.
Impulsively, I blurt out a solution.
“I will protect you.”
Shocked, she stares at me with a question in those gorgeous eyes.
“I’m the owner of a newly founded private security firm. Or have you forgotten, Ms. Chambers?”
“Oh,” she mutters.
“You’ll be my first client,” I decide. “I won’t let that bastard lay a hand on you.”
“As tempting as your offer sounds, I can’t afford to pay you, Jameson. But thank you,” she declines with a gracious smile prompting me roll my eyes.
I tackle her to the bed playfully, catching her by surprise with my swift movements.
“I don’t want your money, woman,” I growl against her lips. “You don’t have to face this on your own. Let me help you, Grace.”
She giggles and I know I’ve effectively lightened the mood.
“Okay,” she agrees breathily.
“But I do have another form of payment in mind,” I say deviously, nipping at her ear.
Chapter fourteen
GRACE CHAMBERS
“Come on, Grace. You can do better than that,” my trainer, Austin, encourages as I lift my foot to deliver another roundhouse kick towards his gloved palm.
My muscles burn as I execute the move, maintaining proper form and follow through.
From there, Austin and I move through a combination of front and side kicks. His taunting serves as the motivation I need to make it through the next set of punches.
Following the news I’d received from my mom two days ago, I’d decided to take up kickboxing.
A coworker of mine had recommended Austin and when I’d called him, he’d happily agreed to give me an introductory lesson tonight.
We’re working out in a private room at the gym, typically reserved for dance fitness classes.
As we wind down with some stretches, I notice a figure looming in the open door.
My heart leaps in my chest and that giddy feeling invades my stomach.
Jameson.
With an inviting wave and easy smile, I gesture for him to come inside.
We’d agreed to meet up after my gym session and he was right on time — punctual as ever.
As he comes towards the two of us, I notice his normally neutral expression is dark, his eyes possessing a dangerous gleam.
Dread twists my gut and fear tickles my nerve endings as my mind draws up the worst-case scenario.
Did something happen?
Did he hear from Brick?
I want to voice these questions but think better of it when I see Austin extend his hand in Jameson’s direction.
Clearing my throat, I make hurried introductions as the two men shake hands.
I notice Jameson barely makes eye contact with Austin, his brooding eyes trained solely on me.
“Jameson, this is my new trainer Austin. Austin, this is… Jameson,” I say as my mind draws a blank.
What do I introduce him as?
The guy who’s fucking me?
My new bodyguard?
My boyfriend?
“Nice to meet you, man.” Austin is friendly, his words cloaked in a thick Southern drawl.
Jameson barely grunts before he addresses me.
“Grace, are you ready to go?”
A frown sets in as I gather my things.
What the hell is his problem?
He’s being so rude.
Austin and I make plans for our next session and I thank him profusely before gathering my things from the corner near the floor-to-ceiling mirrors.
As we walk through the gym towards the front door, I notice his icy behavior is specifically aimed at me.
No flirty comments or greeting kisses are exchanged. Just pure silence and body language that says more than he has.
From the ticking at the base of his jaw, I can tell he’s pissed.
Once we reach the parking lot, I stop walking and turn to him.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”
His tone is clipped and cool when he speaks.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were getting a trainer, Grace?”
Affronted, my earlier frown returns.
“I wasn’t aware that I had to tell you anything, Jameson. What is this about?”
He scoffs, shaking his head.
“I would have liked to know, that’s all.”
“Why?” I pry, beginning to understand the root of the problem.
He’s jealous.
“Don’t be so dense, Grace. Do I really have to spell it out for you?”
Anger shrouds my being at his harsh words but I try to remain as cool as he’s being.
“Jameson, you don’t get to talk to me like that.”
A familiar ache settles in my chest as I recall the last man I knew who’d turned to acting out in lieu of mature conversation. I refuse to go down that road again.
“If you have a problem with something, just tell me. But I will not allow you to belittle me with your words because you’re jealous of my trainer.�
��
His head snaps in my direction at the tone I’ve taken.
The petulance on his face is replaced with admiration.
“Are we clear?” I ask leaning against my car.
He nods almost immediately and reaches out to pull me against the solid wall of his chest.
“Shit. You’re right. I’m sorry,” he murmurs in my hair.
A quiet moment passes between the two of us before he starts speaking again.
“I was standing at the door for a while and didn’t like the way he was looking at you when he thought you weren’t looking.”
Pushing out a heavy sigh, I pull away from him and study his face.
Lines crease his forehead as he stares back at me, pensively.
“Jameson, he’s my trainer. He has to check out my form and tell me what to correct.”
“He was staring at your tits and ass ninety percent of the time,” he claims.
I roll my eyes and he persists.
“If you need a trainer, I can do it.”
This time an even bigger sigh escapes me.
“Jameson, as much as I appreciate your protectiveness, I can’t start letting you fix every single problem I have. You’re already providing me around-the-clock protection, free of charge. I can’t accept anything else from you. Austin is knowledgeable and giving me a great price. I’m going to keep seeing him at least twice a week.”
The anger edges back into his gaze.
“I don’t like it.”
“Jameson.”
“Let me train you,” he says.
At my skeptical glance, he continues on.
“I was a SEAL, Grace. I think I can teach you a thing or two about self-defense.”
I huff, expelling air from my cheeks.
“Let me think about it,” I counter his proposition.
A smile claims his face for the first time since he arrived.
“Whatever you want,” he agrees.
Relieved, I turn to unlock my car and ask him about our plans for the evening.
“Are we still on for your place after I change and grab some clothes?”
Jameson runs his hand over his jaw and nods.
“I want to cook for you tonight,” he states, closing the space between us in two beats.
“Ooh, lucky me,” I wiggle my brows.
He chuckles lowly at my antics and then tilts his head, letting me know another question is coming.
“I have another question.”
Damn, I’m good.
“Shoot.”
“The way you introduced me…” he lets the sentence linger.
I offer a blank stare in return and he’s forced to complete the thought.
“You didn’t say I was your boyfriend. Why is that?”
Heart hammering, I look up at him and gnaw on my bottom lip.
We’ve never had this conversation before.
Up until now, I figured he was just content to have great sex and share an occasional meal. I hadn’t asked for more because he simply hadn’t alluded to the fact that he wanted more.
“Are you my boyfriend, Jameson?” I ask earnestly.
Running on assumptions has no appeal for me. I need a clear-cut answer.
“I consider you my girlfriend.”
This is news to me and I’m sure the shocked expression on my face conveys this message.
“Really?”
“Yes,” he nods emphatically.
His hand finds my waist, pulling me flush against him. When he speaks again, I’m held captive by the deep timbre of his voice.
“I want to make sure we’re on the same page here — you are mine, Grace.”
His declaration slows my breaths and I watch hazily as he bends his head to kiss me. His lips are brushing me when he utters his next words.
“And I protect what’s mine.”
Chapter fifteen
JAMESON WILCOX
I stare up at the ceiling as my conscience pesters me relentlessly.
Grace is sleeping peacefully beside me but slumber evades me. The muted light creeping in from the windows tells me that it’s nearly sunrise and I haven’t slept a wink.
Stirring at my side draws my attention back to the woman sleeping there.
I shift and prop myself up on one elbow to stare down at her.
She’s perfection and the thought alone increases my guilt tenfold.
As a SEAL I’d been trained to put integrity above all else. To protect what outside forces or others were trying to destruct.
Yet, here I am knee deep in a deal with the devil.
My chosen profession never really bothered me before. Most cases passed me in a blur of indifference.
Except Grace wasn’t most cases.
I’ve fallen hard for her against all intentions and better judgment. I’m not sure when it happened and I sure as hell don’t have the time to figure it out.
What I need is to figure out a way to disentangle myself from Brick and come clean to Grace without losing her.
But how?
I’m lying to the woman who has become everything, her presence filling a void that was left gaping for too long.
She’s the only thing I look forward to these days. Her defiant attitude and cheeky conversation, her laugh, her scent.
Just her.
“Why aren’t you sleeping, handsome?” Grace asks, breaking me out of my reverie as she comes awake.
Stretching is followed by a moan, and even in her sleep-induced haze I can tell the exact moment she picks up on my pensive mood.
“What’s wrong?”
I know there’s no point in lying but I try anyway. “Nothing.”
Unconvinced, she props herself up on her elbow mirroring my position. “Tell me.”
“I was just thinking about how strong you are… after everything.”
It isn’t a total lie. My respect for her has grown tremendously after learning the truth about her past.
Disbelieving eyes continue to bore into my own and I feel the need to elaborate.
“You’re one of the strongest people I know,” I carry on. “And I’m damn lucky to have you in my life.”
Her eyes soften at this before she reaches out to trail a finger down my chest.
I’m instantly alive under her touch, earlier grogginess forgotten.
But I need to give her a break. I know her body must be exhausted from the constant exertion. Between our private training sessions and the endless sex, her body has to be fatigued.
“Let me draw you a bath,” I offer leaning forward to kiss her soft lips.
She groans against my lips before deepening the kiss.
“I’d rather kiss you,” she says against my lips.
This woman will be the death of me. I’ve never been so insatiable in my life.
Giving in, I roll over on top of her.
Trapped between my body and the mattress, she squirms. The movements stimulate my needy cock.
Trailing kisses down her jawline, I nip at her collarbone before massaging the afflicted area with my indulgent tongue.
The room is filled with the soundtrack of her lustful moans and I want to stay there all day, doing whatever it takes to prolong the music.
I lift my head to take in the sheer pleasure on her face. Then I look down, admiring the way her full breasts fill out my T-shirt. She always sleeps in one of my shirts. Thin cotton panties are the only material covering her bottom half.
Grabbing her hands, I pin them above her head with one of mine as my desire for total control overwhelms me.
With her hands restrained, I lift the hem of the T-shirt and mark her flesh with my hot tongue.
Grace whimpers at the sensation.
Inching down, my tongue roves over her belly button before reaching the waistband of her panties.
Ravenous, I begin kissing her through the thin fabric.
“God… yes, Jameson.”
My cock is engorged by this point, enjoying her panting words.<
br />
“Just like that,” she sighs as I continue to lap at her sex through the damp barrier.
“I guess the bath can wait,” I murmur against her center, knowing the vibrations will drive her insane.
I’m rewarded with another moan as her back arches off the bed to increase the pressure of my licks.
*
“Are you kidding me?” Grace asks, shooting me an incredulous look across the table.
We’ve just finished a leisurely breakfast and instead of clearing the dishes we’re staring at each other as Grace takes in my request.
Impulsively, I’ve asked her to accompany me to the Veterans Ball this weekend.
“Jameson, you don’t ask a girl to go to a ball three days before the event!” she shouts, exasperated.
I tilt my head and study her. “Why not?”
Did she not want to go with me?
The possibility sends a crushing blow to my ego.
“I’ll never find anything to wear in time,” she gushes as her cheeks take on a pink tint.
She’s flustered.
“Gosh, what do people even wear to balls?” she ponders aloud and I can’t help the smile that breaks out across my face.
She’s fucking adorable.
“If you think it’ll be too much trouble, we don’t have to go. I usually stay home,” I explain. “But I figured I’d give it a shot since I have you now.”
Grace shakes her head at me. “It’s not too much trouble,” she speaks.
Relief overpowers my earlier insecurities.
“It’s still going to take a small miracle to pull off. I have to get a dress, shoes, new make-up…” she rattles off a long list.
As she speaks, I lift off the chair enough to reach into my back pocket and retrieve my wallet.
Fishing out the desired credit card, I lay it on the table between us effectively bringing her rambling to a halt.
“Get whatever you need.”
Grace eyes the card without reaching out to grab it.
“Jameson…”
“Don’t fight me on this one, Grace. I take care of what’s mine. Remember?”
Her mouth moves, as if she’s trying to find the right words.
Silently, I raise my brow, daring her to challenge me.
Thankfully, she concedes peacefully and collects the credit card from the table.
