Claire headed into the kitchen Tuesday morning and stopped short. She’d purposely waited until Grayson was supposed to be off duty before she came down for breakfast. She’d heard him go into his bedroom earlier and close the door, so why was he down here again?

Seated at the breakfast table, he was wearing sweatpants and an Army T-shirt, his feet bare and his face weary. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his shoulders were slumped.

Trying not to focus on how those broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his shirt, Claire said, “Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”

Grayson looked up at her from the remnants of his breakfast and narrowed his eyes. Her disappointment must have been obvious because his words came back equally sharp.

“I was. Now I’m awake again.” Turning his focus back to his plate, he slathered butter on a piece of toast and took a bite.

Claire frowned. He couldn’t have slept for more than a couple of hours.

When she didn’t respond, Grayson studied her face a moment and then smirked at her. “What is that, concern? How sweet of you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sarcasm. How attractive.”

“I’m so glad you think so. Your opinion really matters to me, you know.”

The man was infuriating. If she weren’t so hungry, she’d leave the kitchen, but she was starving. She’d waited to eat with the hope that she wouldn’t have to see him.

Whatever. If another opportunity to stand her ground was presenting itself, she should take it. She was tired of people pushing her around, especially Grayson.

Claire brushed past him on the way to the cabinet. “For the record, I am sweet, but only to people who are nice to me. What about you? Have you ever been nice to anyone in your life?”

He finished the toast he was eating and drained the last of his juice, but didn’t respond.

Annoyed at being ignored, she said, “Maybe your guilty conscience is the reason you can’t sleep.”

Grayson stiffened and shoved back from the table. Not meeting her eyes, he took his plate to the sink and dumped it in the soapy water inside.

Drops of water splashed onto Claire and she snapped her head around. Had he done it on purpose? Probably.

Unbelievable.

“You really are something,” she called out as he headed for the door.

“Thanks for the compliment,” he shot back over his shoulder.

Once he was upstairs, Claire pulled out a seat at the table and sank into it. She should have just kept her mouth shut. She’d never been catty in her life, had never had the nerve to, but where Grayson was concerned, her temper seemed to have no bounds.

The worst part was he now seemed to know how much he got to her. She dropped her head into her hands.

Why was she thinking so much about Grayson, anyway? Why had he taken so much of her headspace? She was practically engaged, after all. It was Gabe she should be thinking of, not Grayson.

So, why wasn’t she? Probably because she was bored, not to mention a little lonely. Her bed here seemed huge without Charlie taking up half of it, and she missed his excitement at seeing her when she came home each day, and his sloppy kisses when she rubbed his ears the way he liked. Besides Leah, Charlie was her best friend, and she missed him like crazy.

Speaking of friends, Leah was probably ready to wring her neck after missing another client meeting today. And with no word from Claire since the weekend, she was probably worried.

And Gabe? He stayed so busy, he’d probably barely noticed she hadn’t been in touch.

Glancing down at the bracelet he’d given her, Claire turned it around her wrist a few times, then took it off and headed back upstairs to tuck it into her purse.

* * *

Thankful when Grayson disappeared to his room in the early afternoon to get some rest in preparation for the night watch, Claire joined Jeremy in the kitchen. He was prepping dinner, wearing what she now recognized as his favorite baseball cap.

“What are you making for us tonight?” she asked.

“Fancy chicken.”

Confused, she scrunched up her face. “What in the world is fancy chicken?”

He pulled a slow cooker from a lower cabinet and plugged it in. “Secret family recipe,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling as he glanced over his shoulder. “If I told you what was in it, then I’d have to kill you.”

Claire burst out laughing, surprised at the corny joke. Her thoughts drifted to Grayson and how different her interactions were with him, not easy like hanging out with Jeremy. What had made Grayson such a difficult person?

“Was Grayson in the Army?”

Jeremy looked up and frowned. “Why do you ask?”

Embarrassed that she’d actually voiced her thoughts, she shrugged. “He was wearing an Army T-shirt earlier.”

Jeremy nodded as he dumped sour cream into a bowl with other ingredients to make what looked like a creamy sauce. “He was. Enlisted after high school and became an MP—” He looked up, and noticing the confused expression Claire was sure she was wearing, he explained. “Military police. He finished his enlistment and went to college on the GI Bill.”

That explains the military vibe he gives off, and his bossiness.

“Was he in combat?” Maybe that would explain Grayson’s aversion to people. Maybe he had PTSD and his personality had suffered. There had to be an explanation for his surliness.

Jeremy shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. From what I understand, Gray served stateside. Then after college, he joined Phoenix.”

Once Jeremy had added the creamy sauce to the slow cooker along with the chicken, he turned the switch on High and set the lid on top.

“We’re good to go now for a few hours,” he said. “Want to watch a movie? I can set you up with the DVD player, and there’s a bunch of DVDs on the shelf below it. I think I saw a chick flick or two in the mix the last time I was here.”

“Chick flick?” she scoffed. “How about a good horror movie, or an action/adventure?”

Jeremy shook his head, laughing as he crouched in front of the TV. Selecting a handful of DVDs for them to choose from, he said, “Now you’re speaking my language.”

Claire grinned back as she dropped onto the sofa and curled her legs beneath her.

At least it would pass the time. Without her phone or internet, she couldn’t work on her case, chat with Leah, check in with her parents . . . nothing. And Grayson had nixed her going on a run, so she couldn’t do that either.

With those options off the table, she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself, so a couple of hours mindlessly staring at the TV sounded like just the thing.