Page 51 of Guarding Grace (Hawk Security #2)

Grace

I squinted one groggy eyelid open against the light as something tickled my nose.

Bonnie’s tail swished across my face as two angry eyes watched me.

“What do you want?” I knew the answer without asking. Bonnie only ever wanted one thing—food.

Swish, swish.

When I levered up on my elbow, Bonnie finally moved.

“Meow.” Clyde was also here, at my feet.

But as I remembered last night with Terry, and then falling asleep cradled in his arms, the bed still felt empty.

Turning, I slid my hand under the sheets next to me. The bed was cold. “Terry?”

Silence.

Swish.

I reached out to stroke Bonnie and was rewarded with a loud purr. In the right mood, she had the loudest motor. “I’ve been ignoring you, and I’m sorry.”

Not to be left out, Clyde bounded up and forced his head under my hand for his share of love.

“Yeah, I missed you too,” I told them as they competed for my attention .

A rap of knuckles sounded at the open door. “Grace?”

I looked up. “Constance?”

It came back to me. Terry had asked Constance and Winston to come home with us last night. “Have you been here all night?”

From the doorway, she nodded, smiling as if keeping watch over me was a normal part of life. “Good morning. I hope you slept well.”

“Uh-huh.” Heat rose in my cheeks because she’d probably heard the fact that we hadn’t spent the entire night sleeping. “Where…” I stopped, feeling suddenly insecure, asking about Terry.

“Terry didn’t want to wake you. Rudi gave us some clues about where to find Elliot, and he’s out chasing them down.” She raised her phone. “If you’re ready to get up, Winston is down on the street and bugging me about making breakfast.”

Holding the sheet against me, I sat up. “Nonsense. You don’t need to wait on me. I should be making food for you guys.”

“I promised Terry I’d treat you to my famous French toast.”

Guessing that Constance had that I-keep-all-my-promises gene, I gave in. “That sounds great. I’ll be out as soon as I shower.” I didn’t need to do my hair this morning, but after a sweaty evening under the sheets with Terry, a rinse was on the agenda.

As the warm water sluiced over me, Clyde stood staring through the glass. Meow… Meow.

“I know. I miss him too.” In just a few days, Clyde had taken to Terry, often rubbing up against him to get an under-the-chin scratch.

A little while later, I walked into the kitchen to find Winston at the table pouring juice.

He paused. “You’re going to love this.”

Constance looked up. “You’re just in time. Hot off the griddle.” She laid a heaping plate of French toast slices on the table. “Grab some quick, before Bigfoot eats them all.”

The aroma was scrumptious. After sitting, I chose a piece and topped it with a light drizzle of maple syrup.

The first bite didn’t disappoint. “This is terrific,” I said as I cut another bite of Constance’s creation.

“She does a good job on this.” Winston put down his orange juice. “I have it every week. Too bad it’s the only thing she can cook.”

Constance sent him a glare. “It is not, and how would you know, anyway? ”

Winston turned to me. “We were undercover as a married couple for a week at this mountain retreat. I learned all about her.” He added a wink.

I giggled.

“It was a surveillance job.” Constance felt the need to clarify. “Undercover. Not under the covers.”

“Of course not,” Winston agreed, still smiling. “She’s too good for me.”

“Thank you.” Color rose in Constance’s cheeks.

“But honestly, name one other thing you cooked that week without using the microwave,” Winston pressed.

She huffed. “I can cook. I just don’t like to.”

“Go ahead. Name one thing.”

“The burritos.”

Winston lifted another forkful of French toast to his mouth. “Now this breakfast is truly good. I mean it. You can cook this for me any day, but frying a store-bought burrito instead of nuking it does not constitute cooking.” He chuckled playfully before popping the food into his mouth.

Constance was not amused. “At least I don’t fart in my sleep.”

“You’re the one who chose bean burritos.”

Constance scowled.

I added fuel to the fire. “They say that being uninhibited enough to fart in front of someone is a sign of closeness in a relationship.”

“We’re not in a relationship,” Winston noted swiftly.

“Definitely not,” Constance agreed, narrowing her eyes at the big man. “We bring him along when we need some muscle.”

Winston nodded. “And we bring her along for someone who can get into small spaces.”

Constance brandished her fork.

He slid back in his chair. “And when we need someone smart,” he added. “Everybody knows that.”

I couldn’t help it, and a laugh escaped. I tapped my fork on the plate. “Constance, this is delicious, and in my book, it counts as real cooking.” I loved seeing a side of these two beyond stern looks and guns at their hips.

“It is,” Winston admitted with a smile. “And I’ll go undercover with you again anytime, dear.”

Constance made a show of rolling her eyes, but I caught the smile she tried to hide and guessed that she agreed.

“You have breakfast together regularly?” I asked, going back to Winston’s original comment.

“Pretty much every week,” Winston mumbled with food in his mouth.

Constance picked up her glass. “Yeah, he’s like one of those sad-looking puppies you just have to feed. ”

A pang of guilt shot through me—or maybe not guilt, but a realization of something I’d missed out on. I’d spent years building my business, and not until this week had I spent a single morning eating breakfast across from someone.

Clyde rubbed up against my leg and meowed.

I looked down and gave him the bad news. “It’s not meat, so no, you can’t have any.” Breakfast with two cats was not the same.

Clyde repeated his meow.

Picking up my phone, I tried Terry’s number again. It went straight to voicemail. “Just calling to say good morning,” I told the recording. I needed to talk to him.

“It’s not you,” Constance assured me. “While he’s in the field, he keeps it on do-not-disturb.”

The sound of the garage door opening came up the stairs, and my heart accelerated.

Constance stood. “Speak of the devil. It looks like I’ll need to make a little more.”

I ran to Terry when he reached the door and jumped into his arms.

“Whoa, Tiger. I haven’t been gone that long.”

“I still get to miss you.”

“I missed you too.” He set me down and stroked my hair. “I got your messages.”

Not what I wanted to hear, since he hadn’t called me back.

“After Russo bugged my car, I didn’t want to say anything over the phone.”

“Hey, big guy,” Constance called. “Get your hungry ass to the table before Bigfoot here eats everything I cooked.”

I was busting to know what he couldn’t talk about in the car, but I waited until he’d loaded his plate and taken a bite.

“Constance, I should hire you as my cook.”

Winston laughed.

Then curiosity got the better of me. “What’s the news?”

Terry finished chewing before answering. “Jordy and I checked out a place Rudi gave us. Elliot had definitely been there. Jordy set up surveillance, and we’ll nab him when he returns.”

“And then what? He said he needs money to get away and disappear.”

Terry turned to me and took my hand. “Remember how this started? The Russo family came after you to get to Elliot. This never ends until he faces them. If he runs now, you’ll never be safe.”

I shivered. “But they’ll kill him?—”

Winston stopped eating .

Constance sighed. “They might not. Lucas has some leverage with them.”

My tears erupted. “We can’t just let him die.”

Terry stood and pulled me up with him. “Let’s go outside for a minute.”

Winston and Constance started clearing the plates as a very obvious way to give us some space.

I walked with Terry out onto the terrace. “What do you think will happen to him?”

He closed the door and held me tight in the morning sun.

When he pulled my chin up, I braced for the bad news.

“I know he’s your cousin, but he’s brought this on himself.”

That’s what Terry always said about Elliot. “You mean you don’t think he’s worth saving.”

“No. What I mean is, he’s a grownup who has to make his own way in the world. He’s not a child you can protect completely.” He stroked my hair behind my ear. “But for you, I’d save him if there was any way I could.”

I sniffled a half smile.

“There’s no way to know,” Terry said, “how Tony will come down on this. I think it depends on what kind of story Elliot weaves. It’s going to be up to him to tell a story that doesn’t have Tony losing face.”

“That’s not good enough. I can’t throw him to the wolves and wait to see what happens. There has to be something you can do. What about Lucas?”

“We’re outsiders. I’ll talk to Lucas and see what influence he has.”

I nodded. I didn’t see anything else to hope for.

He took my shoulders and locked eyes with me. “For you, I’ll do everything I can.”

Nodding, I rested my head against his chest. I believed my man. “I really, really like you.” The words I’d been looking for the right time to say just wouldn’t come out. It had only been a week, and I felt it, but couldn’t use the L-word.

He squeezed me tighter and whispered in my ear, “I really like you too, Kitten.”

Sobbing into his chest, I admitted, “I think I’ll keep you.”

He rubbed my back with that soothing touch he had. “Then you admit you’ve been wrong about me for years?”

I laughed. “That’s not what I said. I only hated you because you’ve been a jerk to me forever. ”

“Hated?”

“Okay. Disliked.”

It felt like the right thing and the wrong thing to be admitting my feelings for him with Elliot’s life hanging in the balance.