Page 16

Chapter

Sixteen

LUNCHBOX

T he sheer tenacity and stubbornness housed in Grace’s petite frame blew my damn mind. Each time I thought I had a bead on her, she changed the game. She was as fragile as a grenade with the temperament to match. Little seemed to intimidate her. If anything, Bones’ attempts to glare her into compliance only served to make her more defiant.

It was fucking hot.

I was almost humming as I collected the supplies together. I made bread enough that the guys enjoyed it, but no one had a sweet tooth. Not really. So cinnamon rolls, which I loved, were something I rarely indulged in. I’d make them daily if necessary to keep feeding the sudden light that had appeared in her eyes at the mention of them.

“What are we doing?” Voodoo asked as he made his way through the kitchen. Hair still damp from the shower, he was already armed and had my list for the supply run he was about to do.

“Making cinnamon rolls,” I told him. “I have a few more items to add to the list. I’ll text you once I get these ready to go.”

Eyebrows lifted, Voodoo studied me for a moment. “She gave you a favorite?”

“Not directly.” Because she really hadn’t. “But when I mentioned them…” I spread my hands and he nodded. “How is she sleeping?”

“Still badly.” Voodoo sighed. “I thought last night was the best one she’s had in a while. The nightmares worry me.”

“We can’t help her until she talks about it or is willing to.” That advice still sounded as shitty now as it had when the doctors informed us of that for both Doc and Alphabet.

Fucking bullshit. There had to be a way to help someone even when they weren’t there yet. Watching her suffer sucked.

“I’m not a fan of that advice any more than you are.” Voodoo ducked into the mudroom and returned with a suede duster. “Unfortunately, we can’t make her trust us.”

No, but I thought she trusted us more than she was willing to admit. Unsurprisingly, Bones appeared, also ready to go. We had some leads on the group that hired us and sold us out. They were trying to hide.

It wasn’t going to last long.

“We’ll be back later this afternoon,” he informed me. “Keep an eye on Alphabet.”

“Always have one eye on him.” I was working the dough slowly. I needed to get it folded together before I rolled it out. Not that Bones waited for the answer so much as just strode out.

“Today is going to be fun.” The dry as a desert deadpan comment from Voodoo made me grin.

“Happy hunting.”

He answered with a middle finger before following Bones out. Snorting, I made swift work of the dough and getting it rolled out. My hum returned as I spread the butter over the flattened dough then the brown sugar and cinnamon.

With care, I rolled it up before slicing each section. I set the first rounds into a glass baking dish then set it aside to rise before starting on the next one. Better to make a couple dozen, maybe more. I’d make sure Gracie got hers. I doubted the guys would have a problem with letting her have hers, but better to be safer than sorry.

The only bad plan was not having one. I kept one eye on the stairs while I rolled out the next. I had three glass baking dishes set up to rise by the time Grace descended the stairs. She’d showered. Her thick, dark hair fell in a straight line. The damp strands seemed even darker than usual but there was already the hint of waves appearing at the ends.

She slowed on the last step and gave the area a slow glance. Checking for the others? The hesitation put her right between a shadow from the hallway and a faint trail of light beaming down from one of the skylights above. The gritty, raw woman dripping with sweat and panting from the gym was gone, leaving behind a far more ethereal one.

When she turned those brilliant blue eyes in my direction they seemed to shimmer. The contrast seemed to frame her, trapped in a moment between vulnerability and strength.

Just like that, it was over. Her eyes shuttered and her expression smoothed to something more neutral. The imaginary snap of shutters closing echoed through me. Right.

She was protecting herself. How could I possibly fault her? No matter how much it pissed me off that she saw us as something she needed protection from. No matter how far down we managed to get the walls, she’d shore them up and they’d be high again.

I summoned up a smile. “Feel better?” It was a weak ass fucking question but we had to start somewhere. Voodoo had been working on her. Goblin too. I was pretty sure somewhere in there, she and Alphabet were fighting to form some kind of friendship.

That meant I could damn well do my part.

“Oddly,” she said, folding her arms to cross the living room toward the kitchen. “I kind of do. I mean, I’m tired but I’m also… energized? Not sure that’s the right word.”

She’d dressed in an oversized sweatshirt, leggings that made her seem even younger and smaller somehow, and a pair of huge fluffy socks that climbed almost to her knees.

“Sounds good,” I told her and then glanced at the glass dishes before checking the time on my watch. At this altitude, the yeast rose faster, which meant these fast-rising rolls would be ready for the oven in half the time they would elsewhere.

Useful.

“Are the others off on some mission?” The quiet question pulled my attention as I shifted to the espresso machine. She liked flat whites. I could do that.

“Sort of,” I told her. “Voodoo and Bones went on a supply run. Alphabet’s sleeping in.”

He’d been up most of the night digging down into the accounts of every single attorney at her sister’s firm. He had been, at least, when he wasn’t working on tracking Rojas operations, locations, and other resources.

Gracie wanted answers.

We wanted to give them to her.

“Should we let Goblin out?” She stood near the table, arms folded still, a worried frown tightening her brow.

“He’s probably fine. Alphabet was up until early this morning. But…” I considered for a moment as I steamed the milk and held the answer until I was done. Then I glanced at her. “If he isn’t up in the next two hours, I’ll get Goblin.”

That startlingly blue gaze tracked to mine and some of the concern bled away from her expression. Real relief reflected in the faint smile flirting with her lips. “Good. He’s been really nice about letting me take him for walks.”

“Goblin is a big fan too,” I told her as I passed the coffee cup to her. The cinnamon rolls were almost ready to come out. “Alphabet doesn’t mind at all. Probably wishes he could go to walk with you both. I bet he jumps right into it when we’re all caught up.”

Another flicker of a smile but she didn’t say anything, just nodded. Fair. At least she took the coffee and wrapped both hands around the cup before taking a sip. She let out a slow, but intensely satisfied little sigh.

With a nod, I gestured to the table. “Grab a seat. First round of cinnamon rolls will be ready. Now, do you prefer bacon or sausage?”

She tilted her head. “With the cinnamon rolls?”

“Protein,” I said. “The rolls will be excellent carbs after that workout, but you still need protein.”

Taking another sip of the coffee, she watched him over the rim for a moment. “Egg white omelet? Or even scrambled egg whites with mushrooms and spinach?”

A part of me wanted to argue. That wasn’t a lot of calories. But I hadn’t brought up calories, I brought up protein. Egg whites or not, it was still an excellent source of protein. “Let me check for the spinach. I definitely have mushrooms.”

“Just mushrooms is fine.” No disappointment marred the words. My jaw clenched, caging my automatic response. The last thing she needed was me scolding her. Still, fighting to hold those words hostage had me damn near grinding my teeth.

No fresh spinach in the crisper. I snagged my phone and fired off some texts to Voodoo. “I’m adding spinach to our list,” I told her. “Any other fresh veggies or fruits you like?”

“It’s not that important.”

Lips pursed, I pivoted to face her. “They are already out. They are already planning to pick up food. Give me a list. Giving them something to do will help keep them out of trouble.”

Humor sparked in her eyes. “I like carrots, especially baby carrots. Broccoli. Raw. Lettuce. Tomatoes.”

I typed the requested items into the text field. At her pause, I shot her a look. “Apples? Bananas? Oranges?”

“Melon,” she added, scraping her teeth over her bottom lip. “Cantaloupe. Honeydew is fine, but I prefer cantaloupe.”

“Got it. What else? You have a snack you like? Nuts? Chocolate? Trail mix?”

Another flash of amusement but she shook her head. “I try to avoid too much in the way of excess sugar. One because I like it too much and two, it’s a lot of empty calories.”

“Dark chocolate then?” I offered. “Very healthy in moderation, low in sugar, and it can boost your mood.”

“My mood?” Another sip of coffee hid that luscious mouth and how her lips moved to frame each word. “Is something wrong with my mood?”

“I’m not going to insult you by pretending that everything is fine. It’s not.” Maybe I shouldn’t have to say it, but facts were facts. “I get grief. I get trauma. Maybe it doesn’t show, but we’ve all been through it.”

I hadn’t hit send yet.

When she didn’t respond, I pressed the advantage. The scent of cinnamon and sugar wreathed the kitchen as the rolls cooked.

“You don’t want to talk about what’s happened to you outside of some basic facts. That’s—that’s a survival technique. You’re controlling what you can control and you’re not focusing on what you can’t.” Fuck, I felt like an asshole. This needed to be said, however. “It’s okay to not be okay. As much as I’d like to wish it wasn’t true, everyone copes differently. Unfortunately, pretending it didn’t happen doesn’t mean it didn’t.”

The light in her eyes had gone out. How darkness could swim inside such beautifully jeweled eyes baffled me. Yet there it was. The oven beeped and pulled my attention away. Pivoting away from her, I took the reprieve to pull the cinnamon rolls out.

The icing would take a minute to whip together. That was pure sugar though, so better to check with her. I set the fresh ones on the rack and put another dish in to bake. Then I hit send on the list before going for the confectioner’s sugar.

“Icing okay?” I mean, they were edible without it. They were more than edible. Still, the cream cheese and confectioner’s sugar icing just added some pizzazz.

“Maybe half and half?” Another scrape of her teeth over her lower lip.

“Done. I can add some vanilla to it or even a little coffee if you want to add some coffee to the flavor?” Lots of ways to dress it up. “Then I’ll get your omelet going.”

“A little coffee? Maybe?” she asked after a minute.

Good girl. “You got it, Gracie. Coming right up.” We didn’t speak while I put it together. I set two of the fresh cinnamon rolls on a plate. I put icing on half of each. Then spread it over the rest of the ones in the dish. When I was done, I carried the first two over to the table.

She licked her lips. “That looks good.”

“Enjoy. Gonna get your omelet going.”

With a glance up at me, she pulled a chair out. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” I held her gaze for a heartbeat before retreating out of her space again.

I’d just finished whipping the egg whites together when she said, “Lunchbox?”

“Yeah?”

“I know pretending doesn’t work. I’ve been trying to pretend you guys aren’t keeping me captive.” That had me looking at her and she held a cinnamon roll in hand. The other one was gone and there was a smear of icing on her lower lip. “Yet, here I am, and apparently it comes with dessert.”

The droll comment lightened her gaze again and she toasted me with her cinnamon roll. I grinned and went back to work on food. Yeah, we needed to just keep including her. Earn her trust…

This was step one—no, the debrief had been step one. But I wasn’t sure how much ground that got us. This was step two.

I snagged my phone and fired off another message to the guys.

Time to plan for step three.