Chapter 7
SEVEN
Cara
Grant Sinclair has no right to do what he has been doing to me.
The man has gotten inside my head, and even worse, he’s made me trust him. Him , of all the people I trust. I can probably count the number of people I trust on two hands. Now Grant has weaseled his way onto that list.
And now, he’s gone and made me have to admit to myself that I’m very attracted to how he looks.
The way the beads of water rolled down his chiseled chest as he glanced around the living room for his pajamas was absolutely infuriating. During that moment, his arms naturally flexed as he held on tightly to that towel, and it was outright uncalled-for behavior.
The worst part of it all? I had to go and see the outline of his twitching cock against the towel when I knew he wasn’t even hard!
We moved in silence around each other as he got dressed in the bedroom and then made his way out to the living room again to set up his bed on the sofa. Meanwhile, I went into the bedroom and got under the covers as soon as I could.
I feel so unlike myself around him these days, and it bothers me. Ever since this situation started to pull back the curtain of who I am during my day-to-day, he’s been getting more chances to see the real me. It’s as if the walls around us are crumbling down, and it’s been only a few days.
There’s no way I can continue to be this version of myself around Grant. Tomorrow morning will be here before we know it. I need a good night’s sleep in order to be ready to work tomorrow.
I tighten the covers around my neck and shut my eyes.
Trying to get sleep seems almost impossible, knowing that Grant is mere feet away from me.
The sound of the sofa squeaking distracts me, and I know he must be twisting and turning on it. I don’t care how fancy of a hotel we’re at, no one wants to sleep on a pull-out sofa if you don’t have to.
Only in this case, he can’t help it. Sure, I’m glad he was a gentleman and offered me the bed, but I wouldn’t possibly get any sleep if he were in here.
My body feels like a million needles are pricking into it because of Grant’s presence as it is.
I can’t even think about how I would feel with him inches away.
I fluff my pillow underneath and try to focus on letting sleep take over. I rarely have these kinds of issues falling asleep. Like I’m sure Grant is, too, I’m used to getting some shut-eye in the most uncomfortable situations.
Minutes pass by, but they feel like hours. The silence in my room is deafening. It’s the total opposite of the way the comfortable silence took over between us on the balcony.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
I have a feeling I’ll be muttering those words a lot when it comes to being around Grant.
Sitting up in bed, the sheets fall down around my waist as I run a hand through my hair. I check out my pajamas to make sure they are acceptable for a platonic friend to see me in.
“Sinclair!” I shout.
“What is it, Collins? Some of us need sleep.”
I roll my eyes as I lean back on one hand against the bed.
“If I have to hear you tossing and turning out there, neither of us will be getting quality sleep for tomorrow. You can come in here. Just stay on your side.”
I hear Grant getting out of the pull-out bed and padding across the floor to the bedroom. Within seconds, he’s leaning against my bedroom doorframe, looking like he’s mine. His bare chest is just as I remembered it, and his low-slung pajama pants tease his defined abdomen.
“Don’t you own a shirt?” I groan.
Grant smiles widely.
“Glad to know you think I’m so pretty, but no funny business, Collins. I need my beauty sleep,” he teases as he crosses the room to the other side of the bed.
“Please. I’m the one who needs sleep. Stay on your half of the bed.”
Grant lifts the covers and slips onto the bed. I face the opposite direction and try not to look around. It doesn’t prevent me from feeling his presence.
“Thanks, Collins.”
“No problem, Sinclair.”
A deep rumble sounds in the room, and I can’t help but smile.
“Hey, Grant?”
“Yeah?”
“Wipe that smug smile off your face.”
He laughs before he twists onto his side.
Naturally, I woke up at three in the morning after going to sleep too early last night. It was for the best. I was able to shower and dress, all while Grant stayed asleep in the bed we shared last night.
Packing my small bag was easy enough as well. Now I debate whether to wake up my new husband, as we are inching closer to when we need to be at the airport.
It doesn’t matter how frequently I take private planes, a part of me will always want to get there as early as possible, as if it were a commercial flight.
This is something I’ve learned to tone down over the years, but if anything, I’m going to let myself be who I am… even if that means arriving at a private airport earlier than I should.
Heading into the bedroom, I walk over to Grant’s side of the bed. His arms are flexed behind his head, and all I can see are the muscles I’ve recently discovered I enjoy staring at, taunting me.
I’ve never really taken a good look at Grant before this. Of course I’ve looked at him, but there’s something different about watching him in this state. He sleeps peacefully, far better than I usually can.
I probably woke up a dozen times last night, tossing and turning while my mind raced alongside the nerves in my body.
“Sinclair.”
No response.
“ Grant .”
Still nothing.
I rest my hands on my hips and hang my head back in frustration.
“This man,” I whisper.
“My wonderful husband is what I think you meant to say,” Grant rasps.
His husky tone is unexpected and sends a jolt of electricity through my body. I want to take a step back but can’t. If I did, then he would catch on quickly about the way he makes me feel these days.
“We leave in ten. Get ready.”
I walk away and leave Grant in the room to get dressed.
In the living room part of the suite, I pour myself a cup of the coffee I had delivered earlier and add sugar to it.
Sitting down in the single chair next to my bags, I wait for Grant. As I take a drink of the hot coffee, I hear his shower turning off and then some fumbling closer to the door.
I take a few steadying, deep breaths. They help me compose myself during times of distress.
Good. He’s almost ready. We can get out of here, finally—move onto the mission at hand and have less one-on-one time where we try to get to know each other.
I need to get a handle on these newfound feelings.
I wince.
I do not have feelings for Grant Sinclair.
Abruptly, I stand upright and fix my blazer, then grab my suitcase, duffle bag, tote bag, and purse.
“Heading out. See you on the plane,” I shout.
Without giving him a chance to answer, I walk out the hotel door.
I may not have feelings for Grant, and this may be a mission, but I need some space to breathe without him in my proximity after the past twenty-four hours.
I rush out the exit and step into the waiting car service. When I close the car door, I let the driver know someone needs to pick up Grant too. He calls it in and says someone will also notify Mr. Sinclair.
Good.
That’s handled.
“I didn’t take you as a runner, Collins.”
I perk up at the sound of Grant’s deep voice as he steps onto the plane.
“I had some work I had to do. It’s not my fault you sleep in ahead of a mission.”
Grant grins as he plops his bag down on the side of his chair and takes the open seat in front of me.
His eyebrows shoot up, almost testing if I’ll say anything else.
“I’m never late,” I continue.
“Believe me, I already knew that about you.”
“Let’s not pretend as if you know me after a short time together.”
“Maybe not.”
I roll my eyes as the flight attendant appears.
Grant and all his maybe-nots are going to drive me crazy if he continues.
“Good morning. Can I get you anything to drink?” she asks Grant.
“Yes, please. A double espresso.”
“Coming right up. And anything else for you, Mrs. Sinclair?”
I flinch at the name.
Regrouping immediately, I pull on my jacket and give her a small no.
“Please let me know if you need another latte or anything else at any time,” she says before walking away.
“Don’t forget, you’re already my wife here,” Grant whispers.
My head darts over to see his smug expression.
“Don’t you forget, I could kill you with my bare hands.”
I flash him my widest smile, and he laughs.
“My kind of foreplay.”
Grant looks around the seats and finds a neatly folded paper on top of a nearby table.
“Reading the newspaper still?”
“It’s important to see what’s being shared with the masses.”
Grant pulls out a pair of black glasses from his jacket pocket and sets them, along with the newspaper, on the table in front of us.
He takes off his jacket and neatly folds it over the chair next to him.
I try to focus on the device that I’m holding. Right now, I’m definitely interested in these blueprints and not the way Grant looks in a button-up.
“Reading anything interesting?” he asks.
I look up to see he’s sitting back down, and our flight attendant is bringing him his requested espresso.
“Just looking over the homes in the neighborhood.”
“Let’s pull it up on the big screen and go over it together.”
I sigh as I set it down in my lap.
“I think you can manage going over it separately.”
“I could, but that wouldn’t make either of us very good partners, now would it?”
“Fine. I’ll put it up until takeoff. Which we can now do since you’ve arrived.”
Grant smirks as he downs the entire drink and sets the small cup on the table.
“Would have been here with you if you had waited all of five minutes.”
I cross one leg over the other and let my shoulders relax.
“Let’s get one thing straight here. I may be your wife, but I’m not your mother or your babysitter, so get up earlier if you don’t want to miss our travel times.”
“Believe me, I don’t need any of the three.”
A slight sting since I am technically his wife.
I give him a pointed stare that he returns. It’s a battle to see who will break eye contact first. Why do I get the feeling this is going to keep happening in the future?
“If you can please fasten your seat belts, we’ll be taking off shortly,” the flight attendant says.
“Thank you,” I answer.
Looking around my waist, I buckle up, and I swear I hear the hint of a victory cheer coming from Grant. I peer up at him as I fasten my seat belt to see another smug expression.
“It would have been rude for us not to acknowledge her,” I say.
“I don’t disagree.”
“We can review all the original plans I had in the air and some of the foundational materials that will still be relevant.”
“Sounds good.”
“Then I think once we settle into our home sweet home, we can scout out the area and acclimate. Then revise our plans?”
“Solid idea.”
I study him. Something is off with the way he’s being so agreeable.
“What is it?”
“Before we go on our stroll around the neighborhood, I think you’ll have to learn what I know.”
“And what’s that?”
“Who Ace is to the Carolinas mafia.”
I lean back and grasp the ends of the armrests tightly.
“Deal.”
Grant’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
“You’re not the only one who can be agreeable,” I tease.
I can’t help but laugh.
“What is it?” he asks.
“The past forty-eight hours or so have been the most agreeable time of my life. I can’t wait for it to be over.”
“Don’t go wishing away what hasn’t happened yet. I’m glad I could domesticate such a wild cat.”
“Please,” I sneer.
Grant beams that he got under my skin once more. At least we’re back to the old way of talking to each other.
The flight attendant reviews the safety plans and then takes her seat at the front of the aircraft as the pilot shares that we’re next in line for takeoff.
“Before I forget…”
Grant starts to pull a bag out of his briefcase and carefully sets it in front of me.
“What is it?”
“Open it.”
“I don’t do gifts.”
“Maybe you’ll do this one.”
“Grant…” I trail off.
“Just open it. I promise it’s for the job.”
I sigh and lean forward to get the bag. Placing it on top of my device, I pull out a black velvet box.
Instantly, I gasp, and my hand shoots over my mouth.
My eyebrows furrow together as I discard the bag, and both hands rest on it. Trying not to let Grant see that I’m shaking, I slowly open it to find the most gorgeous engagement ring I have ever seen.
More importantly, it’s perfect for me.
“The agency didn’t give this to you.”
“No. No, they didn’t.”
My heart flutters from the gesture.
“Why? Why did you do this?”
“You’re my wife. You needed a proper engagement ring.”
Finally getting the courage, I meet his eyes.
“We both already upgraded the wedding bands for each other. Which, by the way, thank you. But this? This is too much. I can’t accept it.”
Grant’s eyes darken as his jaw twitches.
“You can, and you will.”
“Tell me the truth then. Why did you do this?”
“Like I said, you’re my wife. I wanted this to be special for you, regardless of whether it’s a sham of a marriage.”
I bob my head up and down as I think. We’re taking off into the air as I try to find the right words to convey how special it actually is to me.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. If this were real, you would have gotten it the night I met you in the field.”
I chuckle.
“Then why didn’t I get it? Or does Ace not give his lucky charm engagement rings?” I tease.
He finally looks relaxed once again.
“Another time, we’ll have to talk about our pasts together.”
I agree. I’ve almost forgotten everything that is Grant Sinclair. All the back and forth, the betrayal, the desire he instills in me during our chase.
“Another time.”