The Spy Who Came For Christmas(3)

He’s Brad’s friend. He’s safe. And maybe…maybe I’m tired of being so good all the time. This stranger was the perfect man to help her wild side come out, she could feel it.

***

“What in the hell are you doing?” Brad Fenton demanded as he pulled Grayson right out of the cheerful shop with the letters Holly Jolly Chocolatier sliding across the windows. “You can’t go out with Jemma!”

Grayson raised a brow as he studied the other man. He and Brad went back—back to a time he knew Brad would prefer to forget. But their bond had been forged in blood and battle, and when he’d needed a safe place to crash, well, Grayson had thought of Brad…and of Holly.

It’s like something out of a dream, man. Those had been Brad’s words, so long ago. If you ever want to escape blood and hell and fury…come to Holly. There’s no safer place.

Grayson was in the mood to escape, so he’d tracked down the little town…and his old friend. A guy who was now the sheriff? His gaze slid to the gleaming badge on Brad’s chest. What was up with that shit?

“Gray? Gray? Did you hear what I said? You can’t go out with Jemma.” Brad crossed his arms over his chest. “Bad idea. Really bad.”

Grayson thought it was one damn stellar idea. The woman had been pure sex appeal, with her dark, thick hair sliding down to tease her high cheekbones. Her bright blues eyes had gleamed and that apron of hers hadn’t been able to hide Jemma’s lush curves. Curves he’d sure love to explore…with his hands. With his mouth. “You interested in her?’ Grayson heard himself ask. Maybe he held his breath while he waited for Brad’s response.

And maybe he wondered if he’d be punching the sheriff in the next five seconds. Because the idea of Brad and the lovely Jemma…

No. I want her.

How long had it been since he’d been able to have something—someone—for himself? He’d been in one hell-hole after another for more years than he could count. He’d been a dozen different people—all roles that he’d had to play in order to protect his country. He’d done his job. He’d nearly lost his soul. But today, for the first time in f*cking forever, he’d looked up—

And wanted.

He’d stood in that doorway and gotten lost in a pair of beautiful blue eyes. Eyes that were innocent and sweet, and he hadn’t been able to think of a single coherent thought beyond…

I want.

I want her.

“Am I interested in Jemma? Jemma isn’t interested in anyone,” Brad said, sounding a bit confused.

Grayson grunted. “She’s interested in me. We’re going out for dinner.”

Brad rolled his eyes. “I was there for that part, dumbass. And, no, you cannot go out for dinner. You need to stay away from Jemma.”

Not happening. “You’re the one who told me to come to the chocolate shop.”

“Because I know you like chocolate! Shit, because I like chocolate, too and I wanted some. It seemed like a good place to meet up once I found out you’d arrived in town.”

Grayson’s gaze slid toward the darkened windows of the shop. “I do like chocolate,” he murmured. But I think I’ll like sweet Jemma more.

“Gray…” A warning edge had entered Brad’s voice. “Jemma isn’t the kind of woman you play around with, got it?”

Grayson heard a door slam. The sound had come from the back of the shop. Then he strained and made out the soft sounds of Jemma’s footsteps, moving closer. He locked his gaze on Brad. “Who said I was playing?”

Brad’s expression hardened. “There are things you don’t know…”

“Grayson?”

Oh, but he liked the way Jemma said his name. All husky, a little breathless, and sure sexy as all get out. He turned toward her and just…stopped.

A street lamp was behind her. An old-fashioned, wrought-iron lamp with a big, merry wreath hanging from it. The light shone down onto Jemma, making her look like some kind of angel. She’d taken down her hair and it tumbled over her shoulders. That heavy mane made her eyes look bigger, bluer.

I am in trouble.

“Do not hurt her,” Brad whispered to him.

Hurting Jemma White was the last thing on his mind.





Chapter Two


“Why are people staring at us?” Grayson asked as he glanced around the restaurant.

Jemma could feel the stares, but she’d been ignoring them. I should not have picked the one restaurant in town that most of the locals visit. But it was the place with the best food so…

“Jemma?”

She peered over her menu so that she could see him. And, wow, yeah, he was still as hot as before. He’d taken off his thick coat and the sweatshirt he wore stretched across his wide shoulders. Very wide. Had he played football back in the day?

“Is there a reason so many people are frowning at me? Not just people…the men,” he clarified. “Men are glaring.”

“Um, no clue.” And she was sure he was wrong. No one was glaring. She risked a quick glance around the restaurant. Yes, people were staring. How embarrassing. So she hadn’t gone on a date in… um, a very long time. Did that mean everyone had to make such a big deal about her being out with a handsome man? Small towns, jeez. Her cheeks burned. “Want to get out of here? I actually know another really great place to eat and we’d be guaranteed privacy there.”