CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Grace
It was infantile—poking my head out my bedroom door to check if the coast was clear. The loft was dimly lit from the morning sunshine poking through the slits of the closed blinds. Normally, Matt got up at six in the morning and would stay gone until eight, when he’d return from the gym or a run to take a shower. At seven that morning, I had not heard signs of life in the apartment. I texted Millie earlier to ask if she was already at the diner, and if I could come hang out as usual. She texted me back to come right over.
I settled my backpack containing my laptop behind me. Elliot had started giving me low-level access to DEA databases. As far as I was concerned, it was total bullshit because the information was easy to search for on the internet. I had a nagging feeling that it was simply a ploy to humor me. An even worst feeling plagued me that something big was being kept from me. As the days turned into weeks, and with my memories far from my reach, I still didn’t trust many people except the citizens of Misty Grove. I quietly made my way across the living room. Before my hand could wrap around the entrance doorknob, I heard a soft creak behind me.
“Going somewhere?”
Nearly jumping out of my skin, I whirled around at the owner of the voice. “Don’t you know it’s bad to startle pregnant women?”
Matt swung his long-muscled legs from the couch and lounged back in a sit. He was wearing boxer briefs, and thankfully, had on a shirt. I didn’t know if I could take seeing his naked chest. I surely couldn’t blame my hormones this early in pregnancy, but good Lord, this man was fine. More than fine. And he had been inside me.
His gaze tracked me from head to toe, deliberately taking in my appearance. I felt self-conscious and wished I had taken more care with how I looked that morning. I had dressed in a bulky sweater and worn-out jeans, my feet encased in sneakers. Even as I berated myself about caring whether Matt thought I was beautiful, I couldn’t help myself. After our argument the day before, I wasn’t sure where we stood with each other. I tossed and turned that night, unable to sleep, which was the reason for the bruises under my eyes. As if the discoloration on my cheekbone from my encounter with the stairwell pole wasn’t enough to add to my insecurity.
“Millie’s,” I replied, twisting the knob quickly and yanking the door open.
“Don’t even think about it.” Came the quiet command.
A pulse throbbed between my thighs at the same time the devil in me craved to defy every word coming out from this man’s mouth. I turned to look at him, my breath quickening as he got up and stalked toward me. My eyes widened as I spied the bulge at his crotch.
“Morning wood.” His mouth twitched. “Ignore it.” He dragged me away from the entrance and shut the door. “Let me throw something on and we can catch breakfast together. Are you too hungry? Can you wait?”
“I …”
“Please?” He flashed me the most charming smile I’d ever seen grace his face yet, and he knew it. But the sincerity in his voice was what got me.
“Okay.” I found myself responding.
He kissed the top of my head and led me to the couch. “Five minutes.”
Exactly five minutes later, Matt and I left the garage and crossed the street to the diner. He had slung my backpack on his right shoulder and, with his left hand, linked our fingers together tugging me along beside him. It was … sweet. What I thought should feel awkward, felt so right, which led me to question if I’d been fighting my attraction to Matt too much. As we entered the diner, he led me to a corner booth—the same one I had always used whenever I came in early enough. There were regulars already eating breakfast. One of them was John Crowder who owned the Crowder General Store located adjacent to the diner. From what I’d heard, after almost eight years of pursuing Millie, John finally convinced her to give him a chance. His eyes widened when he saw me and Matt slide into our booth, then he smiled knowingly.
I felt another pair of eyes on me that made me feel uneasy. The source wasn’t hard to find. Over at the drink refill station stood Kyra. She was looking at us with so much enmity, it was rolling off her in waves. I tried to scoot closer to the wall taking me further from Matt. He swore under his breath and squeezed my hand.
“Don’t you dare,” he whispered harshly. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”
“She’s obviously hurt.” I grabbed the menu at the end of the table and pretended to peruse it while I spoke. “We probably shouldn’t have shown up together so soon.”
“Grace,” Matt said quietly, grabbing the menu from me, and tilting my chin gently to face him. “My conscience is clear. Don’t let this come between us.” His slate-blue eyes searched mine with earnest. I nodded and smiled faintly at him and was rewarded with his lopsided grin that caused my heart to skip a beat. Goodness. Matthew Foster was going full-court press with his charm today.
He was right though. If what he said yesterday regarding Kyra was true, then there was nothing we both should feel guilty about.
“Ready to order?” My heart sank when I looked up and saw that Kyra was our server. She wasn’t looking at us though and had her nose to her order pad.
“That depends,” Matt replied. “Are you going to put cyanide in our food?”
“Matt!” I gasped. He really sounded serious.
Kyra bent forward and planted her hands on the table, leaning so close to Matt that their faces were an inch apart. I frowned as I noticed her pinprick pupils.
“I was simply an informer,” she sniffed and shook her head as if to clear it. “You’re the assassin, baby.”
“Exactly,” Matt replied. “You remember that.”
The diner waitress straightened. “Are you threatening me?”
“Not at all, but I’d appreciate it if you stayed away from us. Get Sheila. I believe this is her section.”
Kyra’s face flushed red. “You heartless jerk.”
“I never promised you anything, Kyra, and you know it.” Matt’s voice had turned cold.
She turned her eyes at me. “He’s going to put a lot of mileage on you and then throw you aside. Mark my words.”
“Don’t test me, Kyra,” Matt warned.
“Or what?” she challenged loudly. “What can you do to me that’s worse than throwing me over for some stuck-up outsider—”
“Kyra!”
Millie’s sharp reproving tone echoed through the diner as she walked briskly toward our booth. “Come on,” she tugged her employee by the arm. “Let’s talk in the office.”
“Ms. Millie …” Kyra’s eyes filled with tears, and I felt so bad for her, but who was to blame?
“I don’t think I’m that hungry,” I whispered to Matt.
He sighed. “We’re going to eat. You’re not just eating for yourself anymore.”
In spite of the earlier awkward situation with Kyra, I managed a short laugh. “Matt, you do realize the baby is the size of a pea right now, right?”
He chuckled as he opened the menu. “I guess I need to read up on this shit.”
I rolled my eyes at his wording, just as my stomach grumbled. He was right about one thing: I needed to eat.
“Sorry, I didn’t get to your table soon enough,” Sheila apologized as she appeared at our booth.
“Not a problem, Sheila,” Matt assured her.
“It’s so unlike Kyra to create drama,” their new waitress told them. “So, what can I get you guys?”
“Waffles and coffee for me,” I said.
“Are you sure you should be drinking coffee?” Matt asked, frowning.
“Should I be drinking coffee?” I reworded his question as if to convince myself he actually said that to me. “I don’t think you’ll like me very much if I don’t have caffeine.”
“I’m serious, Grace.”
“So am I.” I shuddered at the thought of losing my morning fix. “I’m sure a little won’t hurt.”
“How much is a little?” Matt demanded.
Sheila laughed. “What’s the problem here?”
“She’s pregnant,” Matt announced in such a way that those two words made me feel like I was the most irresponsible pregnant woman.
“Oh,” our server murmured with a smile. “I think you’re okay with a cup.”
“See?” I grinned.
Matt shot me an infuriated look before giving his order to Sheila. “Creamed beef and biscuits. Also, a side of bacon and pancakes. Coffee.”
“Good lord, you can eat all that?” I gave Matt a once over when our server left the table. “How do you manage to stay in shape?”
“Genetics.” Matt smirked.
“Wow, you’re very humble,” I said in mock sarcasm.
“Just kidding.” His half-laugh lightened his features causing me to catch my breath at how sinfully handsome he was. No wonder Kyra was nuts about him.
“You know I work out almost two hours every morning,” he added.
“Well, how do you maintain such discipline?” I was glad I had a reply. This light-hearted Matt was more dangerous than his broody, bossy version.
Our coffee arrived and Matt took a sip of his before continuing. “I need that outlet for my energy seeing that my favorite form of exercise is unavailable to me at the moment.” He glanced at me meaningfully, and I flushed to the roots of my hair. “You’re blushing.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I averred.
“You know if only you’d have sex with me, I wouldn’t be working out so much.”
“Matt!” I scolded, feeling myself redden even more.
“What?” A brow rose innocently. “I’ve made no secret I want you in my bed.” He grinned. “Wait, you’re already in my bed.”
“I can move to the guest room,” I pointed out.
“What for? You’ll only be moving back in.”
“There’s just no end to your arrogance.”
Matt’s answering chuckle created a quiver in my belly. It took no effort at all for him to get under my skin when he turned on the charm. My usual defenses weren’t working. We enjoyed a few moments of companionable silence, savoring the delicious morning brew. For a small-town diner, Millie’s served a more-than-decent coffee. John Crowder’s store brought in special roasted coffee beans from some artisan roasters in Atlanta. Misty Grove was anything but a typical small town. Its residents had been all over the world and are used to sophisticated comforts like great Ethiopian Yirgacheffe coffee beans.
“So,” Matt cleared his throat. “Did the doctor say anything about any physical limitations?”
This man was so transparent, I couldn’t help teasing. “Yes. Nothing more strenuous than a walk for my exercise.”
He looked down at his mug, clear disappointment on his face. “I see.”
I laughed. “Oh my God, you and your one-tracked mind.”
Realizing I was pulling his leg, Matt’s look of relief only sent me laughing harder.
“Wicked woman,” he murmured, a gleam entering his eyes. “You’ll pay for that.”
“Oh, is that a threat, Matthew Foster?”
“You bet it is,” he muttered. He glanced up and saw Sheila bringing our food. He cleared his throat. “Thanks, Sheila,” Matt said as plates of a hearty breakfast landed in front of us.
“Enjoy, guys!” Sheila looked between us and smiled big. That sure was a change from the scene earlier that morning. Relieved, I felt my appetite return. I grabbed the butter dish and smeared a good amount on my waffles.
“I thought you weren’t hungry?” Matt teased as he poured syrup on his pancakes.
“Like you said, I’m eating for two,” I quipped. “And I’m all for opportunistic eating.”
Matt chuckled as he dug into his creamed beef, and we decided to talk about what we were going to do for the rest of the day.