Although it doesn’t mean that what we’ve rekindled will last beyond the mission. I try not to kid myself too much, but late at night when I’m falling asleep with his body wrapped around mine, it hurts to imagine that it won’t be long before I’ll be lying in my own bed, alone.
I glance across the seat at Gray, who’s banging away on his laptop. Baz is driving us to Sweetgrass so Gray can work a little longer. I offered to drive, but that earned me a snicker and a hell no.
Baz has been on the job since Gray assigned Trippi to my protection. That was a knockout, drag-out fight that I clearly didn’t win. Like Trippi, Baz is a former SEAL, and though they’re often behind the wheel, that’s not their primary skill.
“What’s eating you, Blue Eyes?” he asks, reaching over to pinch my thigh.
“Nothing a cocktail can’t cure.”
He smiles and is back to business without another word.
I stare out the car window as we cross the Battery. The ocean is like glass, but the heat and humidity have kept the early evening walkers and runners away. I ran along these sidewalks every morning less than a month ago. Rain or shine. I miss the early morning run, but I’m beginning to learn that spreading my wings is not a bad thing. Plus, I love Mel. I’ll miss him when it’s over.
The sun is shining, but a small bolt of heat lightning flashes in the distance. It reminds me of the brilliantly evil violet wand. I squirm, remembering the pleasing jolts. That was some prep work.
Much to Gray’s surprise, I quickly put that evening behind me. There was no malice on his part—none—and that made it easy to compartmentalize. I simply stuffed it in the box marked training and closed the lid.
I never shared all my concerns about being watched during sex. But somehow Gray knew it was weighing on me. Thanks to his efforts, I made it through the experience without falling apart, and whatever I encounter in Amadi will be easier because of it.
But tonight is the biggest test. My biggest test.
I’ve been a bundle of nerves since Gray suggested supper at Gabby and JD’s house. Gabby is my closest friend, and there are few secrets between us. “It’s a good test,” he coaxed when I took refuge inside my head. “Gabby will know immediately if something doesn’t smell right. And she won’t hesitate to mention it to either of us. If we can fool my brothers and Gabby, especially Gabby, we can fool anyone.”
He’s right, of course. But I don’t want to fool Gabby. I might be a killer and a spy, but I hate the idea of lying to someone I love. It was bad enough talking to Smith—although I didn’t lie to him. I just stayed clear of the truth.
Before we left the apartment, Gray and I had words about my outfit. I insisted on wearing my own things so Gabby wouldn’t think I was being bought. That would be too much for me to bear. Gray, on the other hand, was adamant that I get used to my new clothes—the clothes he paid for, because there’s no way the government ponied up for a closet full of designer clothes. Gray can say whatever he wants, but I don’t believe for one second that Uncle Sam bought two dozen thongs and matching bras from Agent Provocateur. If that’s where our tax dollars are going, we should all be pissed.
Gabby knows my wardrobe, and while she would never judge me, wearing things bought and paid for by a man makes me feel like my mother, with every inch of me aching to rebel. In the end we compromised—although it wasn’t much of a compromise.
I have on my own jewelry and undergarments, but the sundress and sandals are things the shopper sent over. The jewelry was a hard no for me, and the underwear also made me a bit queasy. Too much like a kept woman. In exchange for those concessions, I gave in to the rest.
Baz lets us off in the horseshoe at the front of the house. I fidget with my dress as we climb the steps to the front door without a word. At the top, Gray pulls me into his arms for a kiss, but I jerk away before his lips get anywhere near mine.
“What if someone’s looking out the window?”
Gray chuckles. “That’s why we’re here. Relax. These are your friends. Gabby loves you. Besides, if I had a nickel for every time I caught her and my brother sucking face, and more, over the years,” he shakes his head, “we could pay for college for every child in South Carolina.”
“I don’t like lying to people I love.”
He takes my hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze before ringing the bell. “Anybody home?” His voice booms through the screen door.
In seconds, Gabby appears, with JD behind her carrying Gracie.
I shake JD’s hand because my relationship with him doesn’t involve hugging.
Gray kisses Gabby on the cheek and steals Gracie out of her father’s arms, plopping a big smooch on her head. “I brought you a piece of chocolate from Chef Renaud,” he says to the little girl, in a loud stage whisper. “Don’t tell your parents. What’s that? You prefer cigarettes and whiskey? That can be arranged too. Just come see Uncle Gray.”
“Give me my daughter back,” JD barks. “She’s too young for chocolate. You ever give her cigarettes or liquor, you’ll be dealing with me and my shotgun.”
Watching Gray with Gracie would make most women’s ovaries explode. But not mine. I have no interest in children, and seeing him so charmed by his niece is just a burning reminder that our compatibility begins and ends at the bedroom door.
Gabby rolls her eyes at her husband, and touches my wrist. “Any chance I could impose on you to make a pitcher of margaritas?”
Gabby and I bonded over margaritas, and we haven’t stopped drinking them since. “If you want a mean cocktail, I’m your woman.”
“A pitcher?” JD teases. Although with him, it’s hard to tell for sure if he’s teasing. “It’s just you two drinking them.”
“That’s right,” Gabby responds, “but we have to put up with the likes of you two all night. And Chase. Although he’s nowhere near as annoying.”
“Where is Chase?” Gray asks.
“He’s going to be a little late.” JD catches Gray’s eye and holds it steady. “I’m going up to put Gracie to sleep. Why don’t you go and read to Zack?”
The color drains from Gray’s face. It’s no secret that he avoids visiting with Zack. His brothers, especially JD, don’t like it. I don’t know what it’s about. A month ago, I might have said that he didn’t have the stomach for it. Not everyone has it in them to spend time with a loved one who has deteriorated beyond recognition. But Gray’s not a coward, and given his association with the EAD, he’s stared down death. No doubt about it. It’s something else.
Gray blows a raspberry on the bottom of Gracie’s foot until she’s giggling so hard the drool’s leaking out of her mouth. “I never have a chance to put this sweet little girl to bed. How about if I read to Gracie and you read to Zack?”
JD’s brittle expression speaks volumes. He’s determined to force Gray to spend time with Zack, and he’s not budging. “If you want to put a baby to bed, get your own. They’re easy to make. I can recommend a video, if you don’t know how. But it’s not a do-it-yourself kind of thing.”
Gray doesn’t react to JD’s mocking. There’s anguish in his face. Real anguish. For a few seconds, I’m not sure what he’s going to do, but he relents, and lumbers toward the wing of the house were Zack stays. I want to wring JD’s neck.