Grace snorted. Oh, she would love the Jimmy Choos, if she could drop three grand on a pair of shoes. She wasn’t so sure about the corset. Sean seemed to prefer her naked. She knew that was the way she preferred him. Grace thought about the scars on his back. She wanted to run her hands along them and ask the story of each one. She knew he’d seen combat. She wondered if he still dreamed about the day he got those scars. She would kiss them, running her lips along each one, learning their touch and taste. Each scar was a part of him. She wanted to know them all, to commit them to her memory.
“So, happy hour tonight?” Jake was looking at the clock.
Grace followed his line of sight. It was a little after two. Three whole hours before she would see Sean. God, she was acting like a lovesick teen. Before she knew it, she would be setting up a Facebook page just so she could say Grace Hawthorne is “in a relationship.” Her boys would love that.
“She’s not going to happy hour. She’s rushing somewhere to see that big bruiser she’s screwing six ways to Sunday.” Adam’s elegantly arched eyebrow dared her to say otherwise.
She wasn’t going to lie. She might be discreet with someone else, but she’d gotten close to these guys over the last several weeks. They had become her confidants. “He’s not a bruiser. He’s my Viking.”
Adam laughed long and hard. It was a husky sound that did strange things to her insides. Now that she was having sex again, she had it on the brain constantly. Sometimes, when Adam and Jake looked at her today, she almost thought they were sizing her up, and not in a purely aesthetic way. She was crazy, of course. Sean Johansson was turning her brain to sexual mush. Adam pulled her out of her chair and wrapped his arms around her in a friendly hug, though his hands were awfully close to her backside. He was all muscle under his designer suit, and he smelled clean and crisp. She could appreciate Adam Miles, but she longed for Sean.
“A Viking? I love the analogy, sweetheart. Tell me something. Did he plunder your goodies last night?”
“He’s going to plunder yours if you don’t watch it.” Jake was shaking his head at his boyfriend’s antics. It struck Grace that they seemed intensely bonded for two people who had only gotten together a couple of weeks ago. She had noticed it earlier. They had a whole silent subtext going on between them as though they communicated on a different level.
Before she had a chance to reply, Matt’s door opened. He stuck his head out. His eyes were red, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in a day or two. “Grace, if you’re back from lunch, I’d like to talk to you.”
Grace said goodbye to her friends and walked into Matt’s office. He wore his weariness like a wrinkled suit. Though she had pulled back from him in the last week, she still felt a tug at her heart when she looked at him. For years he’d been her friend, and now he seemed a little lost. Grace didn’t think for one second that Matt’s offer the other night had been serious. He was just that guy who never noticed something until someone else had it. The minute Sean was gone, Matt would go back to taking her for granted and being her friendly boss. It was the way Grace preferred it, but for now there was a tension to their every encounter. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head as though to purge himself of thoughts. “Nothing’s wrong. As a matter of fact, it looks like we’re going to get a big contract. I think I finally nailed down the Bryson Building’s janitorial services.”
“Seriously?” Grace let herself smile. Matt had been fighting for that contract for months. “That’s good news.”
She was happy for Matt, though she wouldn’t have done any business at all with that particular building. It was one of the biggest buildings in downtown Fort Worth, and it housed the largest natural gas development company in Texas. Grace knew the building well. She’d dropped off a signed petition there not three weeks before.
He nodded, and his lips curled up, though the smile didn’t touch his face. He was too busy gathering up his things. He picked up his cell and wallet and shoved both into his laptop bag. “I’m going to head home for the day. Maybe celebrate a little. Can you handle things here?”
“Of course.” She hoped beyond hope that he didn’t celebrate too hard. Sean would be pissed if she got a call at three in the morning. “Where’s the contract? I’ll type it up and get it out to the manager over at the Bryson Building.”
He stopped, his face a perfect blank for a second. “Oh, it’s not quite ready. I’ll just work out the language I want to use and type it up myself.”
“What?”
“I can type, Grace.”
“No you can’t.” He was awful. He could barely text without screwing it up. He never typed his own contracts.
Matt drew himself up to his full height, his eyes going slightly hard. “Don’t worry about it. I have it handled. I did function before I met you, Grace, and I’ll be fine after you’re gone.”
Grace was startled by that statement. What was that supposed to mean? “I didn’t know I was going anywhere.”
Matt’s eyes refused to meet hers. He stared at some space on the wall behind her. “You think I don’t know you’re seeing that asshole? You think I missed the glow on your face this morning or that giggling you did with Kayla? Tell me you didn’t spend last night with him. You can’t. If he has half a brain, he’ll take you with him when he leaves.”
Grace sighed. “He’s not taking me with him, Matt. We’ve just started to see each other, and he’s made it plain that he’ll be going back to Chicago in a week or so. It’s just a fling.”
Matt relaxed slightly. His eyes finally found hers. She was surprised at the depth of relief she found there. “I hope so. I would hate to lose you.”
“I’m not going anywhere, so why don’t you let me do my job?” She was interested in seeing the contract. At the last meeting she had sat in on, the manager of the building was asking for deep discounts, so deep it would make the job financially untenable. She wondered what sort of magic Matt had worked.
He clutched his briefcase. “I’ll get it to you tomorrow. That will be soon enough. Hold down the fort. And Grace, start planning a party for Friday. I want the whole office to celebrate. Someplace nice, okay?”
“Friday? I can’t plan anything big for Friday,” she sputtered. Parties took time. Parties took planning.