Chapter 17
Glenna woke to the sound of her own soft whimpers. Everything ached exquisitely—her thighs, hips, the delicious, unfamiliar stretch between her legs. All an epic reminder of the night before. The sheets smelled like soap and musk and him. But the bed was cold and empty.
God, I hope we didn’t wake Kelsey.
There are some things a six-year-old doesn’t need to know yet.
Glenna scrambled upright, the comforter pooling at her waist, and climbed out of bed.
She yanked on the oversized t-shirt Tyrone had left crumpled on the floor.
The fabric drowned her, but she loved how the scent of him wrapped around her like a second skin.
Padding barefoot toward the door, she ignored the floorboards that creaked underfoot.
She cracked the door open to peer down the hall.
Kelsey’s door stood ajar. But from here she could see the bed was empty. A thread of panic tightened around her throat. She stumbled forward, hands braced against the wall, her pulse a frantic drumbeat against her ribs.
Not again. Not after?—
A giggle floated through the house from the courtyard and she sagged against the wall.
Going to the French doors, she peered out and found Kelsey sitting cross-legged on the sun-drenched stones, carefully stacking what looked like mismatched dominoes while Colt lounged nearby, his long fingers flicking a piece into place every time the tower wobbled.
Bandit the cat batted at the pile with one white paw, earning another delighted squeal.
She’s safe.
Her exhale of relief was slow and shaky as she watched her daughter’s dark curls bounce when she clapped her hands.
She looks so happy.
Jorja appeared with a laden breakfast tray in one hand. “Good morning.”
“Hey. Morning.” She stepped back to allow Jorja inside.
“Fresh figs, still dewy from the garden. Thick slices of crusty bread, and coffee.” Jorja’s gaze flicked from Glenna’s bare legs to the open neck of Tyrone’s shirt, and the marks along her collarbone. A slow, knowing grin curled her lips. “Well. Someone had a good night.”
Heat flooded Glenna’s cheeks. She reached for the tray and snagged the mug. The coffee was perfect—dark and rich with just a hint of sugar.
It would be better if it was spiked for this conversation.
Jorja leaned against the island and nodded toward the courtyard. “Kelsey appeared in the kitchen at dawn asking for ‘Zorro.’ Colt’s been distracting her with an illegal amount of sugar and bad domino engineering.”
“That’s one McKinley brother who is going to make an awesome father one day.” Glenna swallowed another gulp of coffee, the caffeine hitting her system like a jolt. The shirt slipped off one shoulder, and she yanked it back up with her free hand.
“He sure is.” Jorja grinned at her. “There wasn’t a bad one in that litter, was there?”
“Nope. Sure wasn’t.”
Jorja pulled out one of the barstools and sat down, with her flipflop dangling off one foot. “Dare I ask how you are doing? You doing okay?”
“Yeah.” The lie came out too fast. Glenna set the mug down and ran her palms down her thighs. “Just... adjusting.” She took another sip of coffee.
One dark eyebrow arched. “To Italy? Or to the six-foot-three, tattooed complication you let climb you like a jungle gym last night?”
She choked on the coffee and spluttered some all over the island.
Crap.
Jorja just handed her a napkin, still grinning.
“Relax. You’re among friends here. Half the women in this compound have been exactly where you are.” She paused, scrunched up her nose, then sighed. “Actually, it’s higher odds than that, probably closer to all of us.”
Glenna exhaled, slow and unsteady. “It’s not that simple.”
Jorja’s smile softened. “It never is.” She plucked a fig from the tray, biting into the ripe flesh with a thoughtful hum.
“But for what it’s worth, you should remember that you survived 100% of your hardest days, so you don’t need to come down from the top shelf just so Tyrone can reach you…
unless you want to, that is.” She flicked her fingers as if shooing away a fly.
“But if you want my non-expert, not having all the facts opinion, he’s already head-over-heels for you; he just doesn’t know it yet. ”
“But it’s not just me, though, is it? There’s Kelsey too.”
“Zorro’s been head over heels for your daughter since before you got here,” Jorja told her. “I don’t think you gotta worry on that front.”
It was way too soon for this, and way too early in the morning for this conversation. The coffee turned sour in her stomach. “It was only one night.”
Jorja just patted her shoulder on her way out, tossing a wink over her shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that. Eat up; Gunnar said he’d be here in a few minutes.”
Mortified that she knew what had happened between Tyrone and her last night, Glenna watched Jorja leave.
I should get dressed and go see Kelsey. But her butt stayed rooted to the chair.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a shadow darken the doorway and spun around, sloshing coffee over her wrist.
Gunnar and his massive shoulders blocked the sunlight. His gaze dipped pointedly to the shirt she wore, to the scars and marks left by his teammate, before flicking away with deliberate disinterest.
“You decent?”
Glenna lifted her chin. “Do I look decent?”
A smirk tugged at his mouth. “Not particularly.” He stepped inside, but stayed at the door and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “You gonna bolt?”
“What?”
“Every civilian we pull into this life gets one of two instincts—fight or flight.” He nodded toward the window. “Your kid’s adjusted. You kinda look like you’re still waiting for the axe to fall.”
Her fingers spasmed around the mug. “Should I be?”
The axe always fucking falls. That’s the story of my freaking life.
Gunnar shrugged. “Rone won’t let anything happen to her. Or you.” He paused, pinned her with his gaze. “Don’t hurt him.”
Don’t hurt him?
What if he hurts me?
This family really had a problem with minding their own business. “Pardon me?”
Gunnar exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Jesus. You two are worse than Jorja and I were.” He pulled a sleek black credit card out of his pocket and flicked it onto the counter beside the untouched figs. “Get whatever you need on that.”
Oh…. Now it made sense.
“Take your card and shove it up your butt, Gunnar McKinley.” She threw it back at him.
She knew she shouldn’t have used a damn cent of Tyrone’s money.
Knew it, and did it anyway. Well, here it was coming back to bite her on the ass.
“I’m not here because I’m looking for money. I’m here because you brought me here?—”
“Because we found your daught?—”
“If you didn’t think I was after his money, why the hell did you give me that?”
“What the fuck is going on, Grizz?”
Freaking fabulous. Tyrone had seen her being a bitch to his boss. Could this day get any worse?
“I was trying to be nice, and it bit me in the ass.” Gunnar stalked out the door. “You fix it. I already have a wife, and one’s more than enough to deal with every day.”
She glanced at the mug in her hand and considered tossing it after him.
“Now I understand why Jorja calls him Jerk-God,” she muttered. “He’s a jerk who thinks he’s God.”
“What did he do?” Tyrone helped himself to a slice of the crusty bread. “Because if I have to go punch him in the balls, we might not be able to do what I want to do today since Nemo and Midas will be busy picking up the pieces for the rest of the month.”
“He gave me a fucking credit card as if he was paying me for…” she waved her hand in the direction of the bedroom, “you know…”
Tyrone’s eyes narrowed. He went straight to the door, stuck his head out, and yelled, “Jorja.”
“Coming.” Jorja appeared at the door of the kitchen in the main building. “What happened?”
Glenna’s pulse spiked. She lunged for the window.
“Go ask Grizzly what he did.”
“Shit.” Jorja headed straight for the war-room.
“That sounds like Gunnar’s going to be in trouble.”
“Oh boy, yes he is.” Tyrone reached for her. “But that’s a Jorja problem right now.” He peered into her eyes. “Ignore whatever he said, unless it was a safety issue.”
Glenna glanced down at where her legs emerged from under Tyrone’s t-shirt. “Is my wearing your t-shirt some kind of safety code violation?”
Tyrone shook his head. “Only to my sanity. Imma going to go grab Kelsey. You go put on pants.” He stalked out.
Kelsey launched herself at him, arms wide, and he caught her midair, swinging her up onto his shoulders without breaking stride.
His free hand braced against the back of her calves, steadying her.
He’s done that before.
The realization smacked into Glenna’s ribs. He knew Kelsey’s weight, her balance. Knew she’d push at him like a rider urging a horse faster. Her daughter shrieked with laughter as Tyrone jogged in a loose circle.
Kelsey tugged at Tyrone’s ear, demanding another lap, and he ducked his head before breaking into a brisk trot.
Glenna was still standing there when Jorja bustled back in.
“Okay, follow me and here’s the deal.” She went straight to Glenna’s room and rooted around in the wardrobe.
“My husband is an idiot, and my mother-in-law is now on the phone dealing with his stupid ass.” She pulled out soft linen pants, a loose blouse, and underthings all with their tags still on and dumped them on the bed.
“I’d never have told him it was okay for him to come over here if I’d thought for one second that he’d do what he did an?—”
“Stop, it’s not your fault.”
“Oh, but it is.” Jorja scrunched up her face and blew out a frustrated breath. “See, we were talking in bed last night, and I said I hoped neither of you got hurt.” Her cheeks reddened. “But he was kinda-sorta distracted and got the wrong end of the stick.”
“It took a couple of moments to understand what had happened, and Glenna’s eyes widened. “Girlfriend, if you were talking about me and Tyrone while you were in bed… then your, um, activities might need some spicing up, if you know what I’m saying.”