Chapter 10
GRAE
Caden needed to leave. Right now. One more minute of him with those freaking rolled-up sleeves, putting up with my germaphobe self, cleaning my whole house from floor to ceiling, and being all sweet and understanding, and I was going to jump him.
“I think that’s everything,” I said, trying not to meet his gaze. Because those hazel eyes were just as lethal as the forearms. I needed to start finding things about him that I hated—and quickly.
“You going to be okay here by yourself?”
That low, rumbly voice forced my gaze up to Caden’s. “I’ve lived alone for a long time.”
“But not after a break-in.”
“We don’t even know if it was a break-in. Maybe I forgot to lock my door, and the wind blew it open.” All these lies were going to send me straight to the fiery pits.
Caden frowned. “I hope to hell you lock your door every day.”
I grabbed hold of the surging flicker of annoyance at his words. “I’m not an idiot. I don’t choose not to lock my doors. But everyone can be forgetful sometimes.”
“Not about stuff like this they can’t.”
My back teeth ground together. “I already promised I’d be more careful from now on. I’m going to lock my doors and set the alarm. Do you need me to take a blood oath or something?”
“Always so dramatic,” Caden grumbled.
“Not dramatic. Human. But you always seem to think I should be perfect. Newsflash, Caden, no one is. Not even you.”
His jaw clenched. “Trust me, I know I’m far from perfect.”
“Then maybe cut the rest of us some slack.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
The worst of my frustration melted away at the honesty in his tone. “I will be. Locked doors—”
“And windows.”
I rolled my eyes. “And windows. Alarm set. Two police officers, one Fish and Wildlife game warden, and one ex-security specialist on speed dial.”
A hint of humor flickered in his eyes. “Your brothers sound like the start of a bad bar joke.”
The corner of my mouth kicked up. “Don’t tell them that.”
“Never.”
Caden twirled his keyring around his finger.
“I really will be okay. Promise,” I assured him.
“If you don’t want to call your brothers, but something seems out of place, call me.”
Damn him for being all understanding and worried. “Okay.”
He made his way to the door. “Lock it behind me.”
“I will.”
Caden looked at me one more time, then opened the door and stepped outside. I closed it behind him, locking it immediately.
“Set the alarm, too,” he called through the door.
“I’m doing it,” I groused, pressing the arm button on the keypad.
I waited a handful of seconds until I heard Caden’s footsteps on the porch.
Then I did what any woman in this situation would do.
I sank to the floor and buried my face in my hands.
My brain was in danger of short-circuiting.
Between a break-in and all that proximity with Caden, everything was going haywire.
I needed a strong drink. Except that didn’t seem like the smartest idea if someone really was lurking around and creepily stealing my pajamas. That was the bucket of ice water I needed.
Climbing to my feet, I strode toward my bedroom.
Maybe I’d just missed the bin this morning.
I opened the closet and pulled out the hamper altogether.
There were no pajamas accidentally shoved behind it.
I dumped the contents of the hamper onto the floor.
Pawing through them, I searched every item. No pale pink silk.
Frickety frack. This was not good. I thought back to the figure behind my house last night. What if it hadn’t been an animal but the same person who had broken in today? Suddenly, I wished I’d asked Caden to stay.
“Don’t be an idiot,” I scolded myself. The last thing I needed was more one-on-one time with him.
I threw all the clothes back into the hamper and took it to my laundry room. I poured them into the washer, added soap, and turned the cycle to hot. I didn’t care if I shrank things, at least there would be no cooties on my clothes.
I left the basket by the washer and headed back to the living room. The sun was already setting, and I knew darkness would soon be upon us. I moved around the space, double-checking the window latches.
I’d stayed alone in this house what seemed like an infinite number of times, yet that felt like a slightly terrifying prospect all of a sudden. The sensation sparked a flicker of anger. Whoever this asshole was, they didn’t get to steal my haven.
I pulled out my phone and hit a number on my favorites list. A second later, someone picked up.
“Wildfire Pizza, this is Sheila. How can I help you?”
“Hey, Sheila. It’s Grae.”
“Hey, Grae! How are you?” the bubbly teenager asked.
“Good. I’m hoping you guys aren’t too slammed, and I can order a pepperoni pie for delivery.”
Chances were the tourists had them in a rush. I could hear the din of customers in the background.
“I’ll slide you to the front of the line,” she said.
“You are an angel.”
Sheila laughed. “Us locals gotta look out for each other.”
“Dang straight.”
“It should be about thirty minutes.”
“Thanks. I’ll be here.”
“See you later,” she called and hung up.
“Pizza will cure all,” I muttered. I looked around the space for something to occupy me while I waited. I didn’t want to watch TV, and there was no way I could focus on a book. I worried the inside of my cheek until an idea hit me, and I grinned.
Crossing to the hall closet, I opened it wide and pushed aside the array of jackets. I grabbed hold of the kickboxing dummy and hauled it out into the living room, panting by the time I was done. Then I grabbed a plastic case from the shelf in the closet and set it on the coffee table.
I opened the lid and took in the set of throwing knives. Pulling one out, I tested the weight in my hand. I straightened, took a deep breath, and let it fly. The blade hit center mass, and I felt just a little bit better.
I grabbed the second knife and then the third. I threw blade after blade until I regained a little bit of the control I so desperately needed.
The doorbell rang, and I set the last knife back in the case, crossing to the front door. Whoever was running delivery had made good time.
I unarmed my alarm and opened the door to six feet three inches of pissed-off male. He’d changed from his more formal attire into gray joggers and a tee that clung to his muscled chest.
“You didn’t even ask who it was,” Caden said, glowering.
“It was supposed to be pizza.”
“But it wasn’t, was it?” he snapped.
“No, it’s a grown man who looks like he’s about to throw a tantrum.”
Gold flashed in Caden’s hazel eyes. “Forgive me if I don’t want your ass to get murdered.”
“Murderers don’t usually ring the bell.”
“I’m sure some do, just waiting for na?ve women to answer.”
“I’m not na?ve,” I snapped.
“The events of today don’t really prove that.”
“You, you—”
A throat cleared behind Caden, and we both whirled toward the sound.
The delivery driver, who was in his early twenties, held out a pizza box. “Sorry to interrupt the lovers’ quarrel, but I’ve got your pizza, Grae.”
“Thanks, Tim,” I said, moving forward. “Sorry about this.”
Tim shrugged. “I get it. My girl and I can get into it, too.” He grinned. “But the makeup sex is always out of this world.”
I nearly choked on my tongue.
Caden pulled out his wallet and handed Tim two twenties, taking the pizza box. “Keep the change.”
Tim’s grin morphed into a megawatt smile. “Thanks, man. See you two around.”
I glared at Caden. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged, and the action bringing attention to a duffel bag hanging off his shoulder. “I didn’t want you here alone.”
Some of the annoyance slipped away. This was how it always was with Caden.
He’d piss me off ninety percent of the time, but then I’d get a glimpse of the guy I used to know.
The one who always had my back and made me feel understood.
Safe. Those glimmers of him were like daggers to my chest because they reminded me of just how much I’d lost. But I still hungered for them all the same. I was a masochist that way.
I didn’t say anything, just stepped back so Caden could enter. He strode into my space as if he owned it. But that was how he entered every room, his presence bleeding out into the ether and taking over.
I closed the door, flipped the lock, and set the alarm. Then I headed into the living room. I came up short as Caden stood in the middle of the room staring at the dummy with my knives embedded in its chest and head.
“Gigi…”
I took the pizza box from his hands and moved to the kitchen. “Yes?”
“Why is there a mannequin in your living room that looks like it just got ax murdered?”
“It’s not a mannequin. It’s a martial arts dummy, and his name is Bob.”
Caden slid his bag off his shoulder and set it next to the couch. “What did Bob ever do to you?”
I pulled two plates out of the cabinet and loaded up a piece of pizza on both. “Bob is the best man in my life because he lets me take out all my aggressions on him.”
Caden snorted. “Bob’s screwed.” He crossed the small space, his gaze sweeping over my face. “When did you pick up knife throwing?”
The question had a deep ache taking root in my chest. Caden used to know everything about me. If I picked up some random new hobby, discovered a new book or band, or found a new hiking spot, he would’ve been the first one I told. But that couldn’t be further from the truth now.
“A couple of years ago.” I opened a drawer and pulled out two brightly colored placemats and napkins, handing them to Caden. “Set these out on the coffee table?”
He tore his gaze from my face and studied the items in his hands. “You eat at the coffee table?”
I shrugged. “It’s got the view. I like it.”
Even as the sky was turning dark, the moon illuminated the water below and created a sparkling canvas you could get lost in.
“You need a real table and chairs,” Caden grumbled as he set the coffee table.