Hooked (Viking Bastards MC #1)(24)

She says it so matter of fact, as though having staff is nothing out of the ordinary. “He sounds a real dick,” I tell her, while my brain’s still chewing over the whole staff business. “Surprised you didn’t leave him years ago.”

“Better late than never, and at least I did it before the wedding.” She flashes me a smile. “This is the new and improved Grace Mulholland. Watch out, world.”

I laugh, even as I file her surname away. “Tattooed and dangerous.”

“You better believe it.” She waves her hand around as she admires her tat. “I’m so badass. I might get a body piercing next.”

I grab her waist and swing her around to face me. “I know just where you can get a piercing.”

She gives an exaggerated shudder. “I can guess. And no thanks.”

I’m kissing her before I know it, and only the sound of her f*cking cell ringing again pulls us apart. “Give it to me.” I hold out my hand, more than ready to give that jackass a piece of my mind.

She pulls a face as she sees the ID. “Ugh. Can’t ignore this one, sorry.” She sighs and half turns away from me. “Hi, Mom.”

I lean against the counter and fold my arms. After a few moments she takes a deep breath. “I did tell you that the other night. And no, there’s no chance of us getting back together. He’s—”

She bites her lip, catches my gaze, and gives a faint smile. Jesus, her mom sounds like a right bitch.

“I’m fine,” she says. “I’m staying with a friend. No, you don’t know them.” She gives me another smile, but this time it’s downright filthy. “Yes, I’ll see you soon.” She ends the call and lets out a long breath. “Sorry about that. Russell called my parents, thinking I was there, and of course they panicked because I’m not. Although, it proves one thing. He doesn’t know anything about me if he really thought I was there.”

I grunt, because her mother seemed more worried about Grace getting back with her ex rather than where the hell she’d been over the weekend. “Do they know what a jerk he is?”

“They think he’s wonderful. Our parents were more thrilled than we were the night we became engaged.”

I don’t want to talk about her ex, or her parents, or anything about her life, which sounds so different than mine, and it’s not because I never talk about that kind of shit when I’m with a woman. For a few moments I watch her as she clears up the cooking mess, but I can’t shift the unease that’s winding through me. Finally, the reason hits me.

It’s because there’s no chance in hell that her family would ever be thrilled by the fact that Grace was dating a guy like me. It takes a couple of seconds before that thought fully penetrates, and shock blasts through me.

I don’t date. I screw around, and that suits me just fine. This thing with Grace is weird, but in another day, maybe two, it’ll be over.

That shouldn’t fill me with a dull sense of emptiness. I rake my hand through my hair. It must be hunger affecting my gut or something. Sure doesn’t have anything to do with the fact I’ll never see Grace again once she leaves.

This is crazy. I take a step back. “Gonna have a shower,” I tell her before I make my escape.





Chapter Nine


Zach


The following afternoon I stand in my bedroom and stare at Grace’s case against the wall. She’s packed up all her stuff, and the room feels strangely empty without her clothes draped everywhere.

Not that I told her to go. She just casually mentioned it at breakfast, when she asked if I’d take her luggage downstairs sometime today. It shouldn’t bug me, but it’s been on my mind all morning, and not just because I’m usually the one who walks away.

I don’t want her to go.

It’s crazy and doesn’t make any sense, but it’s the truth. I like having her around, and not just when we’re naked.

She comes out of the bathroom with her overnight case and gives me an awkward smile. “Well, I think I’ve got everything. Just give me a call if I’ve forgotten anything.”

“Sure.” This is too weird, and I have no idea how to handle it, so I haul her luggage down to the garage and toss it into the trunk. She places her small case onto the passenger seat, slams the door and then comes back to me. We avoid each other’s gaze, and it’s damn uncomfortable.

“It’s been fun,” she says, and I narrow my eyes at her, but of course she isn’t taking the piss. She means it, and hell, I’m going to miss that smile of hers.

Then I get the strangest thought. Just because she’s leaving doesn’t mean we’ll never see each other again. There’s nothing stopping us from hooking up whenever.

Fuck buddies. We could do that. It’s a blinding revelation.

“Hey.” I grab her hand and pull her close. “You doing anything this weekend?”

Her fingers grip mine, which is all the answer I need, but I still want to hear her say it.

“I could come over on Saturday and stay the night, if you like.”

I grin, and she sways into me, winding her free hand around my neck. “You do that.”

“Okay.” She sounds thrilled, which makes me laugh, for no other reason than the fact I’ll see her again in a few days’ time.