Not exactly full club glam, but a far cry from the business professional that had been her default as a data courier on the Hill.
Rainbow’s attention drifted back to the table of brightly colored clothing. The yearning was there now, subtle but visible. When she spoke, it was a whisper. “I don’t have any money.”
And presents always came with strings. Lord, did Maya know the truth of that. “How about we barter? You can help me in the warehouse some this week, unpacking boxes and putting the books on the scanner. And I’ll buy you any five outfits you want today.”
A tilt of the head. “Anything I want?”
“Sky’s the limit, kiddo.”
After another moment, Rainbow thrust out her hand. Maya shook it with due ceremony, and that was it. Her too-mature seriousness broke, and Rainbow almost vibrated in excitement as she bounded over to the stand.
“Oooh, kid shopping.” Rafe stopped next to Maya, a fond smile curving his lips. “I used to take my little sister shopping. I would beg Tessa to buy some nice jeans or fancy boots or something…”
“But she always wanted art supplies,” Dani finished.
Rafe’s eyebrows went up. “So you do listen to me sometimes.”
She stuck a melting, red Popsicle in her mouth and shrugged, then waved a second plastic-wrapped frozen treat. “I got one for Rainbow, too.”
“Well, you better go give it to her,” Rafe drawled.
Dani rolled her eyes and stalked away. Maya bit her lip, struggling to hold in a laugh. Her fight was doomed when Rafe shot her a mournful look. Giggles escaped, and she slapped a hand over her mouth.
“I’m wounded, Maya.”
“Sorry.” She scrunched up her nose at him. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve never seen Dani work this hard to ignore anyone. Usually it comes naturally to her.”
“Actually, that does make me feel better.” He flicked his fingers at her in a shooing motion. “Go. I know you wanted to check out the tech tables. Uncle Rafe and Aunt Dani are all over this.”
Maya glanced at Rainbow, who was happily accepting the Popsicle from Dani. God knew the two of them could defend her against any improbable threats more efficiently than anyone else on the planet. “Fine. But I’m expecting you to make sure she gets something to wear before Dani takes her off for rappelling gear or her first throwing knife set or whatever.”
Rafe saluted her with a wink and moved toward Rainbow and Dani. That left Maya to turn on her heel and yelp when she almost slammed into Gray. “Shit, you’re quiet.”
He steadied her with a hand on her elbow. “Occupational hazard. Where are you off to?”
She was going to have to start wearing shirts with sleeves, and fuck the heat. The brush of his fingertips raised goose bumps on her arm. She covered it with a torrent of distracting words. “There’s a few vendors who move broken tech. I usually pick up what I know I can fix so we can lend it out to people. And I always check out the books. Sometimes I find some gems.”
“Mind if I tag along?”
“Of course. I mean not.” She barely avoided a cringe. God, having a crush was agonizing. No wonder Dani was ignoring Rafe so diligently. It seemed like the only sane survival move. “I mean I don’t mind. I’d like the company.”
If Gray noticed her awkwardness, he didn’t let on. He just fell into step beside her—close, but not too close—as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
And suddenly it did feel natural. The nervous flutters in her chest eased as she led him across the open lot, toward the southern warehouse. He’d shortened his strides to match hers, and that tangible force field was still active, even when he wasn’t trying. They sliced through a crowd that seemed to part before them like magic.
She could definitely get used to that.
It felt so natural, she said the same thing to him that she would have to Nina. “So. Dani and Rafe.”
He made a low noise that sounded suspiciously like exasperation and amusement tinged with dread. “I know. I know.”
“He knows he’s playing with fire, right?”
Gray shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Usually, I’d say that’s the point. Rafe likes living dangerously, and he skates through most things okay.”
Most things weren’t Dani. Maya had watched a string of men with egos far larger than Rafe’s break their self-confidence and occasionally their hearts against the brick wall of Dani’s disinterest. “I hope so. Weaponized biceps aside, I’m kinda fond of him.”
She felt Gray’s gaze on her, but when she glanced his way, he looked away. “What about her?” he asked softly. “Aren’t you worried about Dani’s heart?”
“Not usually,” she replied just as quietly. “Not many people get close enough to break it. Rafe might be the first one.”
“Hey.” Gray came to a stop, pulling her to a halt with him. “Why are we so down, huh? Who knows what’s going to happen?”
The look in his eyes lodged in her chest, and she knew they weren’t talking about Rafe and Dani anymore. Maybe they never had been. The tension between them tightened another notch, until she wasn’t sure she could draw a full breath.
She’d thought her nerves would settle. That this wanting would mellow enough that she could kiss Gray and it wouldn’t be a big deal. But every day only deepened her craving and heightened the sweet agony of anticipation.
There was no safe way to do this. No way to protect her mind or her heart. And Gray didn’t have time for her to work up her courage. Either he was worth the risk, or he wasn’t.
She had to choose. Soon.
Swallowing hard, she curled her fingers around his, ignoring the tiny frisson of electricity that jolted up her spine. She made her voice cheerful, casual, as if she hadn’t just stepped off her safe ship and onto a plank stretched out over a dangerous ocean. “Have I told you my theory about you?”
“No.” His fingers closed around hers, warm and careful. “It’s not anything like your old boss’s theory, is it?”
Birgitte had been convinced that Gray was some sort of stone-cold killer. That his rigid self-control and emotional reticence masked some sort of psychosis—or, at the very least, deep instability.
She’d turned out to be wrong about plenty of things, but in nothing more so than her assessment of Gray. He so obviously cared about people. Every slow, deliberate movement practically screamed it. “Nah, Birgitte had baggage. You’re not a crazy serial killer. You are clearly a Gothic hero in desperate need of a castle or some misty moors to perfect your tortured brooding.”
He smiled. No, he grinned, a wide, amused expression so generous it might as well have been a laugh. “You watch too many old movies.”
“Someone’s got to categorize them,” she retorted, tugging at his hand to get him moving again. “But let me warn you now. If you’ve got any wives or anything locked in an attic somewhere, I am definitely rescuing them.”
“I don’t have any family, remember?”
The words sounded easy, but his fingers tightened around hers. When she glanced up at him, there was a tension around his eyes. A forced casualness to his expression. She gripped his hand harder. “Of course you do. Knox, Conall, Rafe. Mace, too. They’re your family in every way that counts.”