Page 8 of Rough Patch

“And he never found him?” Hamilton cocked his head with a meaningful look, with his she- was-such-a-dumbass look.

She shook her head, trying to save a bit of dignity and prove she wasn’t as ridiculous as he thought. “The whole bit with Kye and his woman happened.” She remembered those days vividly. Her dad had ended up shot. Kye and Eliana on the run. Grier gone without a word. Missing shipments. Stolen goods and their customers bolting like God himself had come calling. Money tight enough it looked bad for the club until Max figured out how to fix it. Not that he’d ever explained how he’d managed to turn it all around.

Her stomach churned, and she closed her eyes, breathing in and out slowly, hoping to settle her rebellious body into submission. “You okay, Fi? You’re looking a little green.”

She swallowed a mouthful of saliva and took another deep breath. “This kid might be trying to kill me.”

“Anything I can do?” He set his fork down and braced both hands on the edge of the table as if he would throw it out of the way to get to her if she needed.

The nausea passed, and she nodded. “Yeah. You can find out what about his story is true. Keep someone on him all the time.” She pushed her hair back, every bit the traitor she felt. Traitor to her husband. “Use Sage. They get along, and Grier won’t suspect anything.” And she knew Sage’s loyalty belonged to her, friendship with her husband or not.

He nodded at her untouched plate. “Eat your toast. It’ll settle your stomach.”

After a quiet minute, he glanced up at her. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah.” She told him everything anyway… well, almost.

“Why Grier? What is it about this guy that you… that out of all the guys you could’ve had…” His skin flushed and he looked down at his plate.“Why him?”

And of all the questions he could’ve asked, ones she had absolute, no doubt answers for, he’d picked the one she couldn’t explain.

“I don’t… I don’t know.” Grier had always been the guy she wanted, from the first minute she’d seen him when she was thirteen. No other boy when she was young or man when she got older measured up to him. He didn’t have the most money and most of the time back then he’d acted like she was more of a burden than someone he could see himself with.

Her mind drifted back to that day in the changing room when she’d forced him to take her lingerie shopping. She’d been home from college, actually dating someone else, but she’d kissed Grier and known right then no other man would ever be the one for her.

“Dad thought it was a good idea.” Her excuse was feeble. “He always liked him.”

Hamilton nodded, but couldn’t hide his doubt. The pursed lips. The narrow eyes. But it all vanished when he smiled. “Okay. But if he hurts you or the club, I’m going to kill him.” He spoke with deadly truth, and she wouldn’t have doubted him anyway. Hamilton kept his word, no matter what it cost him. And his loyalty was the stuff of legends. Thank God he was loyal to her.

* * *

Fiona’s head dropped again, and she caught herself just before her forehead crashed into the keyboard. Damn. She hadn’t been at work for more than a few hours and she could barely hold her eyes open. It had been three weeks of this shit and maybe she could’ve understood if she hadn’t been sleeping so well at night. With Grier. Sleeping and nothing else. No matter how she tried to entice him. Oh, sure. He’d lick her or finger her or both until her body quivered and her stomach dropped out, then he rolled away to his own side of the bed and slept like the dead, no matter how many times she ground her pussy against him or took his dick into her hands.

Maybe he didn’t like the slight bulge at her waist, because she certainly didn’t buy that whole poking the kid in the head bit, especially since she’d had the doctor explain in detail how they could safely screw their brains out. And still, he kept the damned thing locked up like Fort freaking Knox.

Almost worse yet, Hamilton still hadn’t discovered anything they could use to prove Grier was telling the truth, no evidence he wasn’t either. She leaned back and closed her eyes. A moment’s peace without the nausea and fatigue would revive her, give her the strength to finish her work, to tally the money and make the required payouts. Just a minute.

“Hey, beautiful.”

His mouth pressed against hers, and if this was a dream, she’d happily stay asleep and let it play out. And if her arms didn’t weigh a thousand pounds each, she would have wrapped them around him and hung on, but instead, she let him spin her chair and kiss her again. “Hello.” She murmured the word against his lips.

Her body seemed to be floating for a minute before he settled her on his lap in the chair behind her desk. He cradled her against him and brushed her hair off her forehead. “Do you want to go home? Take the rest of the day off?”

It sounded a little too much like heaven when she had so much work to do. But she snuggled closer. “I can’t. I have to finish…” She waved her arm toward the desk, not worrying about the file folder in her top drawer, the one with Grier’s background check, the details of a life he hadn’t told her about. Or the file with the pictures of him with Dave, the one with him and Kye or the one of him coming onto the beach carrying a surfboard in Belize.

She knew they existed, even had a glimmer of recognition he would find them if he looked, but she didn’t care. Right then, she wanted to go home, fall asleep in his arms, and let the day pass by unnoticed by either of them. And if club business wasn’t so pressing, she would have insisted. Instead, she tilted her head down until her chin touched her chest.

God. She hated being weak, hated that her body would betray her with such forceful regularity. “I need help.” The words slipped out, but she recognized the truth in them. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He tightened his arms around her. “Okay.”

The softness of his voice broke her and her eyes welled with tears. Goddamned tears. “I can’t take care of everything when I can’t even stay awake, when my ankles are so swollen I can barely walk, and when my head hurts so bad the numbers are swimming in my brain.” She sniffed and the dam on her thoughts burst open. “And I don’t know if I can even trust you not to turn us all into your friends at the FBI, but I don’t have anyone else I can ask without giving up control of the club.” She hiccupped out a sob and wished she could take it all back and disappear.

But then he kissed the top of her head and squeezed her closer and she didn’t give two imperial shits about anything but Grier. Jesus, the hormones were having their way with her today.

“Come on, Fifi. Let’s go home.”

“But…” Again, the desk full of orders and paperwork that needed attention.