“She’s obviously hurt.” I grabbed the menu at the end of the table and pretended to peruse it while I spoke. “We probably shouldn’t have shown up together so soon.”
“Grace,” Matt said quietly, grabbing the menu from me, and tilting my chin gently to face him. “My conscience is clear. Don’t let this come between us.” His slate-blue eyes searched mine with earnest. I nodded and smiled faintly at him and was rewarded with his lopsided grin that caused my heart to skip a beat. Goodness. Matthew Foster was going full-court press with his charm today.
He was right though. If what he said yesterday regarding Kyra was true, then there was nothing we both should feel guilty about.
“Ready to order?” My heart sank when I looked up and saw that Kyra was our server. She wasn’t looking at us though and had her nose to her order pad.
“That depends,” Matt replied. “Are you going to put cyanide in our food?”
“Matt!” I gasped. He really sounded serious.
Kyra bent forward and planted her hands on the table, leaning so close to Matt that their faces were an inch apart. I frowned as I noticed her pinprick pupils.
“I was simply an informer,” she sniffed and shook her head as if to clear it. “You’re the assassin, baby.”
“Exactly,” Matt replied. “You remember that.”
The diner waitress straightened. “Are you threatening me?”
“Not at all, but I’d appreciate it if you stayed away from us. Get Sheila. I believe this is her section.”
Kyra’s face flushed red. “You heartless jerk.”
“I never promised you anything, Kyra, and you know it.” Matt’s voice had turned cold.
She turned her eyes at me. “He’s going to put a lot of mileage on you and then throw you aside. Mark my words.”
“Don’t test me, Kyra,” Matt warned.
“Or what?” she challenged loudly. “What can you do to me that’s worse than throwing me over for some stuck-up outsider—”
“Kyra!”
Millie’s sharp reproving tone echoed through the diner as she walked briskly toward our booth. “Come on,” she tugged her employee by the arm. “Let’s talk in the office.”
“Ms. Millie …” Kyra’s eyes filled with tears, and I felt so bad for her, but who was to blame?
“I don’t think I’m that hungry,” I whispered to Matt.
He sighed. “We’re going to eat. You’re not just eating for yourself anymore.”
In spite of the earlier awkward situation with Kyra, I managed a short laugh. “Matt, you do realize the baby is the size of a pea right now, right?”
He chuckled as he opened the menu. “I guess I need to read up on this shit.”
I rolled my eyes at his wording, just as my stomach grumbled. He was right about one thing: I needed to eat.
“Sorry, I didn’t get to your table soon enough,” Sheila apologized as she appeared at our booth.
“Not a problem, Sheila,” Matt assured her.
“It’s so unlike Kyra to create drama,” their new waitress told them. “So, what can I get you guys?”
“Waffles and coffee for me,” I said.
“Are you sure you should be drinking coffee?” Matt asked, frowning.
“Should I be drinking coffee?” I reworded his question as if to convince myself he actually said that to me. “I don’t think you’ll like me very much if I don’t have caffeine.”
“I’m serious, Grace.”
“So am I.” I shuddered at the thought of losing my morning fix. “I’m sure a little won’t hurt.”
“How much is a little?” Matt demanded.
Sheila laughed. “What’s the problem here?”
“She’s pregnant,” Matt announced in such a way that those two words made me feel like I was the most irresponsible pregnant woman.
“Oh,” our server murmured with a smile. “I think you’re okay with a cup.”
“See?” I grinned.
Matt shot me an infuriated look before giving his order to Sheila. “Creamed beef and biscuits. Also, a side of bacon and pancakes. Coffee.”
“Good lord, you can eat all that?” I gave Matt a once over when our server left the table. “How do you manage to stay in shape?”
“Genetics.” Matt smirked.
“Wow, you’re very humble,” I said in mock sarcasm.
“Just kidding.” His half-laugh lightened his features causing me to catch my breath at how sinfully handsome he was. No wonder Kyra was nuts about him.
“You know I work out almost two hours every morning,” he added.
“Well, how do you maintain such discipline?” I was glad I had a reply. This light-hearted Matt was more dangerous than his broody, bossy version.
Our coffee arrived and Matt took a sip of his before continuing. “I need that outlet for my energy seeing that my favorite form of exercise is unavailable to me at the moment.” He glanced at me meaningfully, and I flushed to the roots of my hair. “You’re blushing.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I averred.
“You know if only you’d have sex with me, I wouldn’t be working out so much.”
“Matt!” I scolded, feeling myself redden even more.
“What?” A brow rose innocently. “I’ve made no secret I want you in my bed.” He grinned. “Wait, you’re already in my bed.”
“I can move to the guest room,” I pointed out.
“What for? You’ll only be moving back in.”
“There’s just no end to your arrogance.”
Matt’s answering chuckle created a quiver in my belly. It took no effort at all for him to get under my skin when he turned on the charm. My usual defenses weren’t working. We enjoyed a few moments of companionable silence, savoring the delicious morning brew. For a small-town diner, Millie’s served a more-than-decent coffee. John Crowder’s store brought in special roasted coffee beans from some artisan roasters in Atlanta. Misty Grove was anything but a typical small town. Its residents had been all over the world and are used to sophisticated comforts like great Ethiopian Yirgacheffe coffee beans.
“So,” Matt cleared his throat. “Did the doctor say anything about any physical limitations?”
This man was so transparent, I couldn’t help teasing. “Yes. Nothing more strenuous than a walk for my exercise.”
He looked down at his mug, clear disappointment on his face. “I see.”
I laughed. “Oh my God, you and your one-tracked mind.”
Realizing I was pulling his leg, Matt’s look of relief only sent me laughing harder.
“Wicked woman,” he murmured, a gleam entering his eyes. “You’ll pay for that.”
“Oh, is that a threat, Matthew Foster?”
“You bet it is,” he muttered. He glanced up and saw Sheila bringing our food. He cleared his throat. “Thanks, Sheila,” Matt said as plates of a hearty breakfast landed in front of us.
“Enjoy, guys!” Sheila looked between us and smiled big. That sure was a change from the scene earlier that morning. Relieved, I felt my appetite return. I grabbed the butter dish and smeared a good amount on my waffles.
“I thought you weren’t hungry?” Matt teased as he poured syrup on his pancakes.
“Like you said, I’m eating for two,” I quipped. “And I’m all for opportunistic eating.”
Matt chuckled as he dug into his creamed beef, and we decided to talk about what we were going to do for the rest of the day.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Matt
Matt was behind on the restoration of a 1969 Chevy Chevelle and worked almost all day on the vehicle after his breakfast with Grace. He hated the hours he was away from her and decided to cut back the number of jobs he’d take for himself. It wasn’t like he needed the income, but it was a little extra for his mechanics. Matt’s contract jobs with the CIA paid handsomely, and he had enough money and investments to live more than comfortably. The garage and the MMA gym were legitimate fronts and they enabled him to do
something he loved.
Except, now there was someone who’d become very important to him in a very short time. Though for years he’d chalked up his complicated attraction to Grace as a fleeting fancy that would go away once he had fucked her, Matt realized he was a fool to assume that.
Taking sex out of the equation this past few weeks proved that she was different from all the other women he’d been with before. Until Grace, Matt didn’t chase a woman. Ever. He had a healthy sexual appetite and never had a problem fulfilling those needs with casual hook-ups. Sure, there’d been women like Kyra who didn’t understand the meaning of the word “casual.” Matt sighed. He hoped the Kyra issue wouldn’t derail his efforts to win Grace’s trust.
He wished she’d get back all her memories so they could move forward from his supreme jackass behavior of before. The unknown segments in her mind hung like a pendulum blade about to hack off whatever progress he would make. He couldn’t wait out her amnesia before staking a claim. She was pregnant, and he was close to a hundred percent sure it was his. A sense of possessiveness swept through him.
“Delivery for, uh, Ms. Levinson.” An unsure voice broke through the noisy garage. All activities ceased.
A bouquet of white roses covered the face of the delivery man. He stood uncomfortably at the garage entrance, shifting from foot to foot as if the flower arrangement he was carrying was an April Fool’s joke made on the wrong bunch of people.
Axe scooted out from under the vehicle he was working on to stare at their surprise visitor. Roger leaned against the Mustang he was repairing.
“Wow, boss, pulling out all the stops, are you?” Roger smirked as he crossed his arms.
It was not from him. Roger’s grin faded when he saw Matt’s face. Yeah, his temper was about to hit the roof. Goddammit, Troy.
The delivery boy peeked from behind the roses and a dismayed look came over his face as Matt advanced toward him.
“I’ll sign for it.”
“Uh. Okay.” The boy held out the slip as Matt scrawled his signature on and grabbed the flowers. He had half a mind to throw them in the trash. He snatched the card and tore it open.
“Uh, boss—”
“Shut up, Axe,” he growled. Was this what he had to compete with? Matt was no hearts-and-flowers kind of guy but if he had to play dirty to win Grace, he’d play the damned part.
His blood boiled over when he read the note.
“What did it say?”
Matt was too furious to speak. With the flowers in one hand, and the note on the other, he stalked out of the garage with Roger and Axe trailing him.
Grace was talking to John and Cassie in front of Crowder General Store. She had gone there to pick up healthy groceries to stock up the fridge.
Cassie saw him barreling toward them and stepped in front of Grace. This irritated him more. Despite how pissed he was, he wasn’t going to hurt Grace. He couldn’t bear to harm a hair on her head.
“Matt?” Grace smiled uncertainly, first at the flowers and then at him.
“This came for you.” Matt gritted through his teeth, but instead of handing the flowers, he handed her the card. “Would you mind explaining the card?”
“Who is it from?” she asked, a frown marred her forehead as she read the note that accompanied the flowers. Her face turned ashen, throwing cold water on Matt’s anger and spiking his concern.
“What’s wrong, Grace?” His concern turned to alarm as an obvious shudder ripped through her.
“It’s from him,” she whispered, looking past Matt to frantically search the surroundings.
“Troy?”
“The Reaper!” she cried hoarsely as her teeth clattered.
Cassie grabbed the note from her and read it aloud: “My beautiful Grace, I crave for another taste of your lips and much more.”
“Come on.” Matt grabbed Grace’s upper arm and shoved the flowers to Cassie. “Get the note and these flowers to Trent. We’ve yet to make a statement about last night’s break-in to the Sheriff’s Department. I want to get to the bottom of this.” Instincts told him that waiting out Grace’s amnesia was no longer an option. Turning to Roger, he barked, “Call Troy. I want him at the loft as soon as possible.”
“Yes, boss.”
“As soon as possible, Roger,” he repeated.
Matt didn’t speak to Grace as he marched her back to the apartment. Speculations buzzed in his head and every conclusion he ended up with only fueled his infamous temper.
“Kitchen,” Matt said tersely as they entered the loft. He sat her down, albeit gently, on the chair by the dining table. He then went to the fridge to grab a bottle of water.
“Drink this.”
“I’m not thirsty,” Grace replied. She was still ashen but at least she’d stopped trembling.
“Drink. Or I’m pouring this down your throat.”
Grace glared at him as some color returned to her cheeks. Good.
“You have an odd way of showing you care,” she groused before taking a sip out of the bottled water.
Matt half-sat on the kitchen table, never taking his eyes off her. “Oh, I care, but it’s hard to show how much when you’ve been keeping secrets from me.”
“I wasn’t,” Grace argued, taking a gulp of water. “I didn’t think it was important.”
“I’ll decide what’s important,” Matt countered. “All you’ve told us so far is that The Reaper held you at gun point and needed something from you, but before he was able to tell you what it was, Roger interrupted.”
Grace swallowed hard, her lips trembled, and Matt hated to see the look of fear on her face. The Mexican hitman frightened her.
Matt exhaled deeply, got up from the table, and crouched in front of her. “Babe, I can’t protect you if you don’t tell me everything. We need to know what he’s after.”
“He kissed me,” she said so softly, he almost didn’t hear her.
“Go on,” Matt said, trying to keep his voice level even as a barrage of emotions warred inside him.
“He said he wanted to fuck me, but he also wanted to slice the skin off my body.”
Matt pushed back to his feet as his blood chilled while anger heated up his face. Grace’s bleak eyes followed his movement before gazing up at him.
“He said he was obsessed with me.”
“Fuck.”
“He said smelling my fear makes him hard.”
“Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” Matt spun away from Grace to hide the fury on his face. Scorching anger replaced the ice in his blood.
“I was afraid,” Grace continued speaking in monotone. “If I don’t talk about it, it doesn’t seem real, but the roses … the roses …” her voice cracked, snapping Matt out of his whirlpool of murderous rage. Now wasn’t the time to lose it.
He spun around and knelt before her again, this time gathering her into his arms. “It makes it real,” he finished for her. They sank to the floor as he cradled her in his lap.
“I’m so scared, Matt,” Grace admitted.
“I won’t let him get you.”
“He knows where I am. Maybe I should go away—”
“No!” Matt cut in harshly. He cupped her face, tilting her chin to stare directly into her eyes. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”
“You can’t stop me,” she argued.
“Just try,” he said softly this time, but his tone brooked no argument. “If I have to lock you up in this loft or chain you to my bed, I’ll do it. Don’t test me.”
“Just think—”
“This conversation is over.” Matt pulled her up as he got them off the floor. Holding her close, he added. “I’m never letting you go. Understand?”
Defiance and disbelief lit her eyes, but before she could argue again, he shut her up in the best possible way he knew.
He slammed his lips on hers, pushing his tongue through the resistance of her mouth, and swallowed her outrage. Their teeth clashed, her hands tried to push him away, but he held on to coax a response from he
r. He groaned in satisfaction as her body yielded and a shudder rippled through her. Just when he felt her return his kiss, she tore away from him so violently, she would have fallen on her ass if he hadn’t reached out to steady her.
“What the hell?” Matt swore incredulously.
“I need … I need a moment,” she whispered, eyes wild and almost confused. “Troy … they’ll be here any moment.”
Matt frowned. She was back to looking pale and a tad overwhelmed. “What’s wrong, Grace? I didn’t … fuck. I didn’t scare you, did I?”
“Just.” She looked everywhere but him. “Please, Matt. I need a few minutes.” Still avoiding his probing eyes, she firmly removed his hands on her arms.
Matt tracked her movements until she disappeared into his bedroom and closed the door with a soft click. His fists clenched at his sides. Locked out again, but he was determined to be sharing her bed tonight. He was through giving her space.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Grace
Just as knowledge chased away the fog in my mind, my memories had returned.
At least almost all of them.
The tide of information almost brought me to my knees, and I needed to get away from Matt before I collapsed. It took me more than a few minutes. It might’ve taken me more than an hour by the time Matt knocked on my door to tell me that Troy and the sheriff had arrived. I could hear the irritation in his voice and I felt a bit guilty. Now that I knew what I knew, I felt better about this life growing inside me.
I checked my reflection in the mirror and felt a familiarity I had not felt in a long time. I finally felt centered as I opened the bedroom door. I felt confident. No one could tell me anything I didn’t already know.
But first there was something I had to do.
They had gathered around Matt’s living room. Troy stood looking out the window. His second-in-command, Cristiano, sat on the couch directly in front of him. The sheriff was talking to Matt and Cassie. Lucas was sitting on the long sofa working on the computer.
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