4. CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 4
GRANT
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.
Not that I didn’t think about Scarlett before, but now it’s an almost constant thing.
At work, I have to fight myself from texting every hour just to make sure she’s doing okay. If she’s eating. If she’s scared. If she’s having another flashback.
When it was my turn to volunteer at the station last night, I almost begged off and asked someone to cover me. I hated the idea of Scarlett needing me and not being able to reach me. Suffering through a panic attack on her own because she didn’t want to call Maya and worry her.
I know Maya, and if Scarlett asked for her help, she’d be there in an instant. But for some reason—which Scarlett hasn’t told me and I don’t want to push—she’s hesitant to let Maya know she’s struggling.
But Scarlett hasn’t hidden it from me. She let me comfort her the night of the robbery. She was open with me about her insecurities. And she felt comfortable enough to fall asleep on my shoulder as we watched that silly show about women moving to a farm and shoveling horse crap as a part of the dating process.
Love is Blind I can get into. Some of the other shows, not so much.
But I’ll watch just about anything with Scarlett, especially if it makes her happy. Or it erases that frightened look from her eyes.
I keep thinking about Scarlett’s nightmares, too. I only stayed the one night—the following one, Maya insisted on Scarlett staying over at B and A, and last night I had a six to midnight shift at the station—but the nightmares she had were real whoppers.
I nearly had heart failure when she woke up screaming from the first one. All logic flew out of my head as I raced to her bedroom, imagining serious, undetected injuries or a sinister intruder somehow getting past me. But it was just Scarlett, looking so small and vulnerable in her bed, fighting the covers as she tried to drag herself out of her nightmare.
So I sat in her bedroom after that. Not on the bed, but in the reading chair in the corner, which was way too small and uncomfortable to get any sleep. Not that I minded. Only half-dozing, it was easier to soothe Scarlett when she whimpered in her sleep and tell her over and over, it’s okay, you’re safe, I won’t let anyone hurt you.
It hurts seeing Scarlett like this. She’s so strong, so fierce when it comes to the people she cares about, and to think about someone intentionally harming her …
I checked with the police, but they don’t have anything yet. No possible suspect. I know it’s still early days, and these investigations can take time, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. I want whoever dimmed the light in Scarlett’s eyes to be punished.
It’s getting harder and harder to just think about Scarlett as a friend.
But all the reasons to keep things platonic are still there. Just because my protective instincts are flaring and Scarlett felt so perfect sleeping snuggled up against me doesn’t mean she wants anything more. Especially now.
She needs me to support her, and that’s my priority.
“Hey, Grant.” My foreman, Wyatt, heads towards me, brushing sawdust from his hair.
I hop down from the bed of my truck, putting the paperwork I was half-heartedly scanning to the side. “What’s up?” I glance behind him, noting the completed framework of Mrs. Plimpton’s shed, and give him a brief chin lift. “It’s looking good over there.”
Even twenty feet away, the fresh pine aroma hits me—one of my favorite scents. It reminds me of afternoons and weekends spent with my dad helping him on one of his many projects.
“We just got the framework wrapped up, so the guys”—Wyatt jerks his head over at Tyler and Owen, who are both polishing off bottles of water—“were wondering if they could take their lunch break now. Then start sheeting the roof when we get back. ”
“That seems okay.” I head towards the shed with Wyatt beside me. “I just want to take a quick look first.”
I could get away with not inspecting their work, since Tyler and Owen are two of my best employees. But part of building my company’s reputation is always guaranteeing the highest quality work, so I make sure to check everything before giving the go ahead to move forward.
“It looks good, guys,” I tell them with a smile. “Not that I thought it wouldn’t. Take an hour lunch and start the roof when you get back. I’m going to be heading over to the Simmons' job, but Wyatt will be here for the rest of the day.”
Once I’m back at my work truck, I finally give in to the urge that’s been working at me since I stopped by to see Scarlett this morning to bring her some of those muffins from Sleepy Delights, her favorite bakery. She seemed alright when I saw her, though her cheek has now turned a violent purple and there are some new shadows beneath her eyes, but I worry.
So I tap out a quick text.
Hey, how’s it going? Just taking a break for lunch. Do you want anything?
Her reply appears right away.
Thanks. But that’s okay. I have to go to the police station soon. They want to ask me more questions about the robbery.
I scowl at the screen. Scarlett already went through everything that night, and again when Kane stopped by the next day to ask about a few details. How is she going to get past this if she has to keep dredging it up over and over again ?
But I don’t say that to Scarlett. Instead, I stick with the basics.
Are you going with Maya? Or Cole?
As founder of Blade and Arrow Security, Cole has lots of connections with local law enforcement. His company doesn’t exactly work with the police, but they definitely help them when they can, and I know B and A has a good relationship with them. Maya might have asked Cole to go with Scarlett to make sure she doesn’t get overwhelmed.
But after a few seconds of blinking dots, I get a different response.
No. They made plans a while ago to have family photos done in Rockefeller Park. And the weather is perfect for it. I don’t want to mess up their plans.
I am one-hundred percent sure Maya and Cole wouldn’t mind rescheduling to support Scarlett, but I don’t say that either. Instead, I call over to Wyatt, “Hey, something just came up. A friend of mine needs some help. You mind checking on the Simmons' job for me?”
He nods and gives me a knowing glance. “Of course not. Is it Scarlett?”
Wyatt knows Scarlett and I are friends, and the entire town has heard about the robbery, so I’m not surprised he figured it out so quickly. “Yeah. She has to go back to the station. I don’t want her dealing with that alone.”
“Absolutely, man. I’ve got you covered.”
Problem solved, I text Scarlett back.
I’ll take you. When do you need to be there ?
There’s a long pause before she replies.
Twelve-thirty. But aren’t you working?
I slide into the driver’s seat and turn on the ignition.
Yes. But it’s one of the perks of being the boss. I can take time to help a friend when I want to. So I’m going to head home, take a fast shower, and I’ll be at your place in twenty minutes. Plenty of time to make it there in time.
The three dots blink, but not as long this time.
Okay. I’ll make some sandwiches so you don’t miss out on lunch. And… I know I keep saying it, but thanks.
As I put the truck in gear, I pause to send one last message.
You don’t need to thank me. I want to be there. Heading out now. See you soon .
Why are her eyes all red?
The closer Scarlett gets to me, the more worrisome details I notice.
I’ve been sitting in the waiting room for the last hour and a half, which is significantly longer than I thought she’d be here. But I figured they were just being extra thorough, probably being gentle with their questions. I didn’t think whoever was questioning Scarlett would send her back out looking like this.
It’s not just her red eyes, but the streaks of dried tears on her cheeks. It’s how pale she is; her bruise standing out in stark contrast. It’s how her lower lip is all red and swollen, the same way it was the night of the robbery, when she was biting it in an attempt to hold her emotions in.
“Scarlett.” I meet her halfway across the waiting room, taking her shoulders in my hands and inspecting her face. “What’s wrong?”
That’s when I realize she’s shaking, and her pulse is fluttering madly at her throat. “I…” She swallows hard and starts again. “It didn’t go very well. They think…” Another swallow. “They think I had something to do with it.”
What?
Rage ignites in my chest. I nearly crack a molar as I force my voice to stay calm. “They think you had something to do with it? The robbery?”
Tears spring free as she nods. “Yes. But I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. Saul —”
Thank God, Saul is okay. He had a minor stroke and will be moved to a rehab facility soon, but his prognosis is good. When I tracked Richard Cunningham down and pressed him on it, he gave me all the information and promised to let Scarlett know as soon as she could visit Saul.
The idea of Scarlett having anything to do with hurting Saul? A robbery? One that she was traumatized by? Injured? It’s insane.
“They said the alarms weren’t set and the guy just walked right in. But I did. I reset the alarms as soon as I got inside. I always do.” Scarlett’s glassy blue eyes meet mine, pleading with me to believe her. “Always. But the officer said that maybe it was an inside job. That I knew about all the valuable stuff that’s missing. And that I planned it with the guy who broke in.”
“The man that hit you?”
“I know.” Scarlett nods. “But Officer White said it could have been a ploy. To throw off suspicion. So no one would think I was involved.” Chin jutting out, she adds, “But I would never, Grant. I wouldn’t. You know that? Right?”
Even while the anger keeps getting bigger inside me, I shove it down. At least for now. But once she’s okay, all bets are off. Whoever dared insinuate Scarlett would be a part of something so terrible…
But for now, I draw her into my arms like I’ve been wanting to for days. I tuck her head under my chin and rub her back in circles and I murmur into her hair, “Of course you wouldn’t. You’d never be involved in something like that. And we’ll work it out. I promise.”
I stroke her hair, and it’s just as soft as I’ve imagined it.
Her arms come around my waist, and despite the circumstances, I can’t remember feeling something more right.
“It’s okay,” I croon as her hot tears dampen my neck. “It’s okay.”
Once Scarlett calms down, I get her set in a chair in the corner of the waiting room and storm over to the reception desk. I try not to let my anger show on my face, but the woman at the desk actually jerks back a little when she sees me .
I take a steadying breath and arrange my features into what I hope looks like a less intimidating expression. “Is Officer Kingston here? Or Officer Montague?”
The woman stares at me for a second before shaking her head. “No. Officer Kingston is off today. And Officer Montague is at a conference in White Plains. Is there someone else you’d like to speak with?”
Forcing a thin smile, I reply, “No, thank you. I’ll get in touch with one of them myself.”
Then, with anger still bubbling inside me, I walk back over to Scarlett and reach my hand out to help her up. “Come on. I’m taking you home. And I’m making some calls. What happened here is unacceptable.”
Once we’re back in my car, I turn to Scarlett and say, “I’m calling Cole. And Oliver. I want to get both of them on this.”
Her brows pinch together. “You don’t have to do that—”
“Yes. I do.” I take her hand again, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “They care about you, Scarlett. They’ll want to help. I’m sure of it.”
After a brief pause, she nods. “Okay.”
So while Scarlett sits in the passenger seat, I make my calls. First to Cole, who is definitely not pleased to hear about the accusations against Scarlett.
“They think Scarlett was involved in the robbery?” he asks, sounding more than a little pissed off. “Who was it? Was Oliver there? Kane? Mike? Are they talking about charges? ”
“It was Noah White. I don’t know the guy. I don’t think… hang on.” I glance at Scarlett. “Did he talk about charges?”
If possible, she goes even paler. “No. Do you think—”
“Absolutely not.” To Cole, I reply, “Scarlett said no. But I don’t even want it to be a consideration.”
“Of course not.” Cole pauses. “I want to get Oliver on this.”
“Agreed. I was going to ask you for his number so I can call him next.”
Oliver isn’t just an officer with the police department, but Maya’s older brother. He’s known Scarlett since she was in high school, and while I don’t know Oliver well, I’m sure he won’t be pleased to hear how she was treated in there.
“I’ve got it,” Cole replies briskly. “I’ll call Oliver right now.”
I cast a quick look in Scarlett’s direction. “Thanks. She’s pretty upset about it, as you can imagine. But I said I’m sure we can clear this up.”
“We will clear this up.” Cole sounds every bit the Green Beret he used to be, confident and commanding. “I’ll make sure of it. Tell Scarlett not to worry. And—” He pauses as a female voice says something unintelligible in the background. “Tell her to call Maya. She’s worried.”
“I will. And thanks.”
Once I end the call, I turn to Scarlett once again. Her expression is creased with worry. “Everything’s going to be fine,” I soothe, squeezing her hand again. “Cole’s going to talk to Oliver.”
“I hate causing all this trouble,” Scarlett starts.
“You’re not.” I’m firm. Holding her gaze steadily, I continue, “We all care about you. Helping you isn’t a hardship. We want to do it. I want to do it.”
“Grant.” She takes a deep breath. “Thank you. For insisting on coming with me when I wanted to do it by myself. For staying here to help. For just being here.” Then she leans across the console and flings her arms around my neck.
As I hug her to me, trying not to notice the sweet scent of her hair and the soft swell of her breasts pressing against my chest, I remind myself, just friends .
Scarlett needs a friend right now. It doesn’t matter about my feelings.
After a minute or an hour—I’ve discovered when I hold Scarlett, time doesn’t seem to work like normal—she pulls away and gazes at me with an unreadable expression. A moment later, she sets her shoulders, lifts her chin, and gives me a little smile. “Okay. I’m done with my meltdown for today. I promised you sandwiches. Do you have time to eat?”
All the things I should do with the rest of my day—stop by the Simmons job, run through plans for the new roof install at the Clancys’, double check payroll—fade in importance compared to spending more time with Scarlett. With a grin, I answer, “I always have time to eat.”