Page 34 of Cockpit
“You sure have a lot of wants with a side of a lot of whines.”
“I’m starting not to like you right now.”
“Think of her as a distraction. Think of the contest as something to do with your free time. And hell, better those kind of rumors than the other kind,” he says softly and then purses his lips as our eyes hold.
And, goddammit, he’s right. I’ve lived through more rumor mills than I care to count. Grayson Malone, the man Claire Hoskin went slumming with. Was it true that her inheritance was threatened if she stayed with him? Were her parents to blame for her walking away, or did Grayson cheat on her?
Those fucking rumors ran my life for years. The lies her parents spread to cover how shallow and selfish they were and how they didn’t want their daughter associated with the blue-collar Malones. The payoff Claire gladly accepted because money and promises and freedom were so much more appealing than diapers and spit-up and forevers.
I clench my teeth and force myself to shove it all away. I push it deep into the abyss where I bury it most days so it doesn’t eat me whole.
“Don’t go there, Gray.” When I look up, Grant’s studying me. He knows where my thoughts went. “It’s been done and gone a long time. Don’t drag yourself down that damn rabbit hole again.”
“Fuck, man.” I plop onto the couch across from him and lean my head back and close my eyes. “I just want my life to get back to normal. Work. Luke. A—”
“—little piece of Sidney’s ass on the side.”
I crack an eyelid open and glare at him. “You’re just jealous that’s an option for me.”
“No, I’m not.” He holds his hand up so his wedding ring is in plain sight. “No complaints here, but I’ll spare you the details that will make you jealous about how fan-fucking-tastic my wife is.”
“I definitely don’t need details on the fucking part.” Leave it to Grant to get me to laugh.
“So, is Sidney still hot? I mean, from what I remember from high school she was. Pretty but untouchable. Snobby but nice.”
“Ann
oying but . . .”
“Hot.”
“Gorgeous.” The word comes out automatically. There’s no denying it, even though I’d prefer to.
“And the problem with this is, what?”
“There is no problem with that. The problem I have is that there is an article in the newspaper about a situation only three of us knew about.”
“And we all know how much you love attention.”
I raise my middle finger to combat his sarcasm. “You know the why behind it, so don’t be an asshole.”
“Which why is that? How the Hoskins wrote Luke off and you fear anything on you may give them some kind of insight into Luke’s life? Or the how you are just the most selfless son of a bitch I’ve ever known and for some reason, you never want to reap the rewards for being a damn fine human being like every other person on the face of the earth would?”
“It wasn’t me who told the newspaper about the incident, and it sure as hell wasn’t Mick.”
“Mick?”
“The unarmed thug.” Being a cop, his eyes fire with recognition as my cell rings for what feels like the hundredth time today. People asking about the newspaper article. Attaboys about saving someone, even though I’m on desk duty for doing the exact same thing.
I switch the ringer off and shake my head.
“You really think she planted this story? Why would she do that?”
“Hell if I know. I even fucking accused her of setting it up, then dumbass me bought it when she said she’s not that conniving.”
“One bat of those lashes and shift of those thighs and poor Grayson’s blood leaves one head for another and impairs his thinking.”
“You’re being a dick.”
