“What?” He pulls away, a bit annoyed. I imitate the chords and then sing the first line to the song. This blows his irritation with me right out the window. For the next fifteen minutes, we sit in the car like a pair of teenagers making out. Claudia bangs on the hood of the car, and we both jump.
“Jesus Christ! Some things never change!” she yells as I open the door and get out.
“Come here, you!” I grab her and hug her like I haven’t seen her in twenty years instead of a month.
“Claudia, I barely recognized you! Just blue hair these days, huh?” Grayson teases her.
“Why, yes. I need to appear more managerial now!” She laughs, but I know it irritates Grayson that I don’t ask her to look more professional.
“I see you have a new piercing!” he says with excitement, pointing to her eyebrow. I shoot him a “knock it off” look.
“Um, it’s a redo.” She fidgets a little, clearly uncomfortable now. I roll my eyes and she relaxes. “I can’t wait for you to see all the changes we’ve made! So much has happened since we last talked.” She grabs my hand and drags me. I look back at Grayson and shoot daggers out of my eyes. That fucking bastard did exactly the opposite of what I asked!
I take a deep breath and walk in the store entrance. Not much has changed in here except the color of the walls—they’re now a light grayish-lavender. There are messages about being creative and capturing memories all done in white vinyl on the Cricut. It’s very pretty. We head into the inn’s main foyer and lounge area. All the dark wood I loved is ... gone, replaced by an airy English Cottage aesthetic. It’s bright and clean, with blues, yellows, and greens involved in a mixture of plaid and flowery patterns on sofas, chairs, and drapery. All of the wood has been painted over in a bright white. I did not authorize this! We talked about redoing the rooms, not the main common areas! There’s also a bar and small stage in the dining room.
“For karaoke night.” Claudia smiles.
“Humph,” is all I can manage and, quite frankly, it’s probably better than the scream I want to bellow out.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Claudia claps. “Come look at the kitchen.” She pulls me along. All new maple-walnut cabinetry, stainless steel appliances, and a restaurant-quality stove. The dishes, silverware—it’s all brand new, and I didn’t pick out one fucking thing!
“I’m sorry, Claudia. I need to go to my room.” I bite my lip.
“Becca, are you okay?”
“No, I’m really not.” I head back to the dining room, into the lounge, to the foyer, and up the stairs.
“Becca, sweetheart, your room is being renovated. All your stuff is in the room we shared.”
I stop and take in a deep breath.
“Do you have the key?”
“Yes.” He charges past me and opens the door. I walk in and stop dead in my tracks.
“Wait, why is all the stuff from my upstairs craft room in here?” Oh God, I’m going to explode. I can feel the venom rising before he utters a word.
“We turned it into an employee room for overnights.” He stands back.
“You did what?!” One-way ticket for the crazy train, first class, coming up!
“It’s temporary. Besides ... never mind. Becca, please, you’re hyperventilating, sweetheart. Please calm down.” He kneels down next to me. I didn’t even realize I was down here.
“You’ve taken everything from me. Everything that was me is gone. I feel like I have lost my identity. This doesn’t feel like mine anymore.” I can’t control my sobs.
“Becca, now this is a clear case of overreaction! Do you not like anything that was done?” He’s trying to be patient.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous, but I had no say! I didn’t even pick out the new fucking forks! Nothing had my stamp of approval—nothing. This is my baby, and you took it completely out of my hands. How do you not get this?” I stare at him, bewildered. “Grayson, what if I waltzed into your record company and made all kinds of changes without your knowledge and approval, just because I thought I knew better?” I’m trying my hardest to calm down. I really need him to understand what his control issues are doing—or are going to do—to our relationship.
“I wouldn’t be very happy. I’d probably react the way you are.” He exhales harshly and shakes his head, mainly at himself. “Becca, what can I do to fix this? I don’t want you to resent me, sweetheart.” He grabs my hands, his thumbs caressing the tops.
“Let’s go see Rocco. Unless, of course, Rocco is no longer my horse and has been replaced as well.” I bait him.
“Uh ... sweetheart, Rocco’s at the animal hospital. They’re not sure what’s wrong with him.” His eyes zone in on my flaring nostrils.
“How long, Gray?” I can barely contain myself.
“One week.”
I’m on him like Ralphie on Scut Farkus, my arms flailing and complete gibberish flying from my mouth. Of course, it’s not long before Grayson has me pinned down.
“Enough!”
Damn ... that was extra British. Why does he have to be so hot? Cue erratic breathing, please. His face softens and his brows dart up. Shit. He lets go of my arms and works quickly at my jeans. They fly off, taking my panties hostage. His mouth is on mine. “E.T.” plays in my mind again. Before I can blink, he’s inside. Honestly, is there not a single ounce of willpower in my body? Wham bam, thank you ma’am! Grayson sits back on his heels and pulls his pants up as he stares at me. He grabs my panties, then slides each foot in and draws them up my legs. I raise my bottom for him. I do my jeans myself and head to the bathroom to clean up the spill in aisle ahem.
I open the door to find Grayson looking through some of my pictures.
“I want to go visit Rocco. Are you coming with me?”
He glances over. “No, sweetheart, go with Melissa. I have some things to tend to here. My stuff, not yours,” he says quickly before meeting me in the middle of the room for a kiss. “Call or text when you’re on your way back, love.” He pats my bottom as I head out.
“Melissa, c’mon, we have to go see Rocco at the animal hospital.” I grab her arm and drag her along with me.
GRAYSON
Christmas is two weeks away. I know what I’m buying Becca, but I have something special in mind that I want to make for her—even though I’m quite clueless when it comes to her craft. I thought of hiring somebody to do it for me, but it’s very personal and she’d know. Maybe Claudia can teach me while Becca’s out.
I run downstairs to find Claudia helping a customer. I wave at her to come into Becca’s office when she’s done. I look around. Claudia has pretty much taken over Morgan’s side. It’s only fair—she is the general manager and, despite her blue hair and multiple piercings, she’s doing an excellent job.
“Yes, Grayson?” She comes in and closes the door.
“Claudia! Good—I need your help!” I clasp my hands in a plea.
“Sure, what do you need help with?”
“A Scrapbooking 101 class. From you. I have something special in mind for Becca for Christmas, but I don’t know what to do or how to do it.” I start chewing on a hangnail and abruptly stop when I realize what I’m doing.
“Um, Gray, Christmas is in—”
“Yes, two weeks, I know,” I interrupt. “I have everything I want to do, I just need help with embellishments. Paper and stuff.”
“Um, okay ... well, why don’t you start by picking out paper you think you would like to use? I’ll get the other supplies you will need, and we’ll put everything in a box so Becca won’t know.” She opens the door for me.
I head out into the store and look around like a deer in headlights. Why do we need so many shades of each color? Is this really necessary? Well, I’m not going to pretend to know what I’m talking about when it comes to this stuff. I find a paper here, a paper there ... and then all of a sudden, my hands are full. It’s like a drug! I have fifty sheets of paper that make me think of Becca, and only twenty-four pages to do! I walk into the crop room, arms loaded. Cla
udia has everything assembled. She goes over the paper trimmer, the punches, the Cricut, brads, tags ... wah, wah, wah, wah, wah ... I’m in full-blown Charlie Brown mode. Wait, what? Shit, she just left the room. Let me see where Becca is at and maybe I can get started here.
December 12, 2012 1:00 p.m.
Me: How’s Rocco?
Becca: He perked up once he saw me. They think it may just be depression.
Me: Horses get depressed?
Becca: Um, yeah. I went away. Charlie went away. He doesn’t understand.
Me: I’d be depressed if you went away :(
Becca: Yeah, you’re lucky I have no willpower when it comes to you!
Me: Yeah ... I am. How long are u going to stay?
Becca: Probably another hour or so. All right?
Me: Yes, of course! No riding though! Only me!
Becca: Yes, baby. By the way, love the way you buck!
Me: ;p Love you!
Becca: LY2 BBB
Me: Damn it!
What the fuck does that stand for? Ugh! I push it out of my mind and pull out my envelope of pictures. Before I know it, my cell pings. Wow, an hour and a half has passed!
December 12, 2012 2:38 p.m.
Becca: On my way. Do you want anything?
Me: Just your sweet arse, in every way ...
Me: Sorry ...
Becca: B home soon.
I clean up my mess and put the box Claudia gave me away where she told me to, then head to the lounge to look at the paper. I actually did three pages! Wow, never thought I would get excited over something like this. It’s for Becca—that’s why I’m so excited. Claudia sits down across from me, yawns, and grabs a magazine.
“Hey, loved the picture of you guys at Disneyland.” She turns the issue of People toward me.
“That’s from a month ago, Claudia! Why is it still out here?”
“Uh, because the owner has never been in People before, and we like to brag!” She laughs. Just then, Becca walks in.
“Hey, you two.” She gives me a quick kiss and sits next to me. I rub her back; she looks so tired.
“Sind sie wütend auf mich dafür, daß alle Änderungen hier in der Nahe?”
I look up at Claudia like she has five heads.
“Nein, ich bin wütend auf ihn! Ich habe keine Sache hier wahlen oder einmal wissen! Ich wusste nicht entweder uber Rocco!”
I turn my gaze to Becca. Fluent in fucking German, too?!
“Warum erzählen nicht er sie über Rocco? Das ist schrecklich!” Claudia seems pissed.
“Ich weiss nicht! Er denkt, dass er mich geschützt werden, indem man mich im Dunkeln! Es ist dumm und reizend!” Becca flips her hand. Her mouth may be speaking German, but her hands still say Jersey!
“Geben sie ihm eine was fur?!” Claudia shoots me a dirty look. I’m sitting here completely mesmerized by these two, and they’re ripping me apart in another fucking language!
“Ja! Und dann gab er mir ... auf Boden! Ich habe kein wille zur macht!” Becca shakes her head in defeat.
“Nun ist er verdammt hei!” Claudia offers her a sympathetic smile.
Becca starts laughing. “You know curse words? You have to teach me!”
“There’s an app!” Claudia offers.
“Number one: completely fucking rude to talk in another language in front of someone who doesn’t speak it! And number two: are you two secret agents or something? I mean, who the fuck is fluent in German?!” I’m annoyed and turned on all at the same time. Just then, my email alert goes off on my phone. I take a look.
To: Grayson James
From: Ryan Paul
Date: December 12, 2012
Subject: I am! Translated conversation!
Claudia: Are you mad at me for allowing all of the changes around here?
Becca: No, I’m mad at him! I didn’t pick a thing out here or even know about it! I didn’t know about Rocco either!
Claudia: Why didn’t he tell you about Rocco? That’s terrible!
Becca: I don’t know! He thinks he’s protecting me by keeping me in the dark! It’s stupid and irritating!
Claudia: Did you give him a what for?
Becca: Yes! And then he gave me one ... on the floor! I have no willpower.
Claudia: Well, he is fucking hot.
To: Ryan Paul
From: Grayson James
Date: December 12, 2012
Subject:Big Bonus! Big!
Don’t tell Becca or Melissa you speak German!
Ryan walks by and nods.
“What was so funny in your email?” Becca leans over. I delete it.
“Sorry, sweetheart, I can’t allow you to see this for your own good. I know it seems stupid and irritating, but there are some things I must keep you in the dark about. By the way, Claudia, you’re pretty cute yourself. If I was into blue hair and piercings, I might be giving you a what for!” And with that, I get up and walk away to let them wonder how I knew what they said. It’s great having “people”! I love it!
BECCA
“Becca, does he speak German, too?” Claudia’s mouth is on the floor.
“No! Fucking Ryan emailed him with the translation.” I laugh because Grayson thinks he really pulled one over on us.
“How do you know?”
“Because Melissa told me he speaks fluently. I didn’t realize he was in earshot, or I would’ve switched to Danish or Russian. I saw him nod after Gray sent his reply.” I shake my head.
“Men! Speaking of ... I have a new man!” Claudia pats her knees excitedly.
“What? Who?” I sit forward.
“He’s actually one of my security guys. His name is Joshua. Can’t call him Josh.” She furrows her brow, mocking a serious face.
“How long?”
“Since he first started guarding me. It was an instant flirt-fest between us! He’s so fucking hot!”
“Well?” Please tell me I’m not the only damn whore around here!
“Yeah, I have no willpower either. He considered my body thoroughly guarded by the end of the first week,” she says quietly. I literally laugh out loud.
“Claudia! You ready, baby?” A man comes up behind her—Joshua, I’m guessing. Damn, he is cute! He’s about five foot nine, very fit, dark brown hair gelled into a small Mohawk. Brown eyes that have a smokiness about them, and very full lips with a little button nose.
“By the way,” Claudia whispers in my ear, “my eyebrow’s not my only new piercing ...” She looks at me with wide eyes and glances down to her—ahem. I’m fucking rolling now!
“Get out of here, you crazy lady!”
“Good night!” She winks and heads out with him. I suddenly feel exhausted.
I head upstairs to our room. I strip down to my panties and bra and look through the drawers to find some PJs. I suddenly feel a very painful slap on my ass.
“Ow—goddamn it, Gray—stop it!” I turn and push him.
He bites his smirk back and grabs my arms quickly. “You want to give me another ‘what for,’ sweetheart?” He tries to kiss me.
“Please, baby, stop. I’m tired. I need to lay down.” I turn my head.
“Oh, okay.” He lets go and I turn to find my PJs. “This drawer, sweetheart.” He pulls out a comfy pair for me. I undress and put the PJs on. I grab a tissue and blow my nose. “Becca?” He chucks my chin.
“You’ve got to stop hitting me so hard. You’re really starting to hurt me.” I cry—not by my choice.
“I ... uh ... Bec ... um.” His eyelids are going haywire. I just shake my head and climb into our bed. “Can I rub it for you?” He pushes my hair away from my face.
“No. I just want to go to sleep.”
“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll wake you for dinner.” He kisses my hair. I drift off almost immediately.
Grayson’s smiling down at me as we make love. I don’t know where we are. I can only see his face. I close my eyes, then open them again. Ray is looking down at me with the same dark expression he had at the hospit
al. I try to fight him off, but he has my arms pinned down.
“Becca, you know it. Your body knows it. It’s the least you can do. Becs ... baby ... Becs ... you want it.”
I wake up with a panicked jump. I feel completely disoriented. Grayson is sitting on the side edge of the bed.
“Gray, is this real? Are you really here?” I grab him. He turns to face me. He seems upset. “What? What is it? Oh God! Stacey!” I almost yell.
“No. Everything’s fine.” He seems melancholy.
“Jesus, I just had the worst nightmare!” I put my head in my hands.
“Nightmare?” He looks at me again, confused.
“Yes, Gray! What the hell is wrong with you?” This is irritating.
“I came to wake you up, and you were calling out Ray’s name.” He looks straight ahead.
“Really?! Really, Gray? You’re fucking jealous over a goddamn dream? He was fucking raping me in my dream, are you still fucking jealous? Move!” I climb out of bed, then head into the bathroom and run the bath with my dream—and the unhealthy levels of Gray’s jealousy—still haunting me. As I wait for the tub to fill, I decide to grab my phone. I need to call the hospital and Morgan.
“Hey, what are we doing about Christmas? Because Morgan’s going to ask.” I smack his arm lightly. He doesn’t reply. “Grayson!” I yell. He turns to look at me and takes the phone out of my hand gently, yet purposefully. “What is the matter with you?” I snap, but soften my face.
“Becca ... George is dead.” There’s a strange calmness in what he says.
“Grayson, how? When? Are you sure?” I pull up a chair.
“I got the call right before I came in here. That’s why I’m a little off.” He sits in front of me.
“Where was he found? How long has he been dead?” I’m in complete shock.
“In a ditch. Cross-country skiers found him. The police are at the scene right now. We’ll have to wait for the autopsy, but Becca ... it looks like murder.” He grabs my hands.
“Grayson, what ... what does this mean for us?” I should feel relieved, but this may only prove my theory—and, I’m sure, Grayson’s—that George had a partner.
“It means nothing changes security-wise. Becca, his partner, if he had one, could be anyone. Do not do anything or see anyone without security, especially anyone who has had a romantic interest in you!” He’s very stern.
Goodbye Secrets Page 4
