Wyatt followed them into the kitchen, more because he wanted to watch Gran than anything. She’d better not eat a damned cookie. Though if she did, he didn’t know what he’d do. Short of grabbing it from her hand—which would earn him a swift kick in the behind—he wasn’t going to be able to stop her.

She went over to the baking rack sitting on the counter and grabbed some cloth napkins from the drawer beneath. Then she handed Paige two cookies on a saucer.

“Thank you, Mary Beth,” Paige said.

“You’re welcome, child.”

“Do you want a cookie, Wyatt?” Gran regarded him with an arched eyebrow.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She repeated the napkin, saucer and cookie routine, handing him two cookies.

“Milk?”

“That would be lovely,” Paige replied.

Wyatt wanted to tell her it was a trap, but the words wouldn’t come out when he had a mouthful of Gran’s famous chocolate chip cookies.

“Sit, both of you.”

They took a seat at the kitchen table while Gran poured milk into glasses. She carried it over and set it down. A moment later she was back with a plate that contained two cookies and a glass of milk.

“Gran,” Wyatt began, and she held up a hand to silence him.

“Mine are sugar free, Wyatt. I bought them when I went to the store for more flour.” She took a nibble of the cookie and sighed. “Not quite the same, that’s for sure.”

“Do you ride, Mary Beth?” Paige asked suddenly, nodding at Gran’s shirt.

Wyatt didn’t know if she was changing the subject to get him out of a bad situation or just asking questions, but he was grateful anyway.

“I do indeed,” Gran said. “There’s a dressage barn about five miles out of town. I go there. Do you ride?”

“I did,” Paige said. “I had a hunter when I was a teenager.”

“You should ride again. It does wonders for the soul. And the body,” she added. “I started taking lessons again after many years away.”

“And you didn’t tell me you’d started,” Wyatt grumbled.

Wyatt didn’t like that Gran climbed up on horses at her age. But she refused to stop. When he’d learned she’d taken up riding again, he’d nearly blown a gasket. Her horse—because of course she’d bought one of the damned things—was so tall she needed a ladder and a grappling hook to get up on top of him.

Okay, not really. But she did have to stand on a riser, called a mounting block, and get on that way. Wyatt wasn’t scared of much—he’d danced with death more times than he could remember—but seeing Gran on that giant beast, appropriately named Zeus, had nearly scared the hell out of him.

Fortunately, Zeus was gentle. He did whatever Gran asked of him and never tried to unseat her. Thank God.

“I don’t owe you any explanations, young man,” Gran said sternly. She smiled at Paige. “As I was saying, you should ride again.”

“I’d like to,” Paige said. “One day.”

“How about tomorrow? You can go with me for my lesson.”

Paige shot Wyatt a look. He shook his head slightly, hoping she took the hint.

“I don’t know, Mary Beth. I kind of have to do what Wyatt tells me to do. He’s responsible for my safety, after all.”

Gran cut a stern look at him. Yeah, she was still annoyed about the cookie thing. And the horse thing. But dammit, he wasn’t going to lose her to some senseless and preventable tragedy too.

“Is it that bad, Wyatt?” she asked.

It took him a few seconds to catch up. “Yeah, it is, Gran. Someone is sending Paige threats. He even threatened to hurt her cat.”

Gran frowned. “You won’t let that happen, will you?”

“No, I definitely won’t.”

“Don’t you think the poor girl could use a distraction in the meantime? Riding would help take her mind off it.”

“I don’t have anything to ride in,” Paige cut in. “But I appreciate the invitation.”

Gran reached out and patted her hand. “It’s okay, sweetie. You can come another time if you prefer.”

Wyatt didn’t think that was true, but he wasn’t going to mention it. Once the Seattle PD found King and put a stop to this, Paige was going back home. Neither Wyatt nor Gran would ever see her again.

He thought of that kiss earlier and disappointment speared into him. Not at the kiss, but at the idea of her leaving. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d kissed her, except it had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Little did he know that frigging Hildie Fontana would catch them at it and he’d be forced to come to Gran’s for damage control.

But in those quiet, blissful moments when he’d been caught up in Paige’s mouth, in the feel of her kiss, he’d wanted nothing more than to strip her slowly and take her to heights she’d never forget.

Not gonna happen, but he’d wanted it. He’d come to his senses and pushed her away—but not quick enough. Hildie had seen them and now she was playing her game of gossip. By the time it was through, Wyatt would be getting married and have a baby on the way. Gran wasn’t wrong about that.

“You need anything from the store, Gran?”

Light blue eyes speared into him. They still had the power to make him tremble in his boots even if he was six foot three and a badass former SEAL.

“I’m fine, Wyatt.”

“I know. Just asking since we have to go into town. Thought you might want me to pick something up for you. Milk, bread.”

“I’m good. Thank you for asking.”

“I don’t know when I’ll be back in the apartment. However long this assignment takes. But if you need the grass cut or anything, just call me.”

Gran took a bite of her cookie. When she made a face, Wyatt knew she wasn’t kidding him that it was sugar free. She set it down and speared him with a look.

“I was cutting my own grass before you came back to town, young man. I can manage.”

“Yes, ma’am, I know that. Just offering.”

“You have a job to do, Wyatt. I won’t be bothering you while you take care of Paige.”

“Could I have the recipe for these cookies, Mary Beth?” Paige blurted. “They are absolutely delicious!”

“Why of course, dear. I’ll write it out for you.”

Wyatt didn’t bother to point out that Gran had a computer and could email the recipe. Nope, not going there, especially when he’d just had his ass handed to him over something as simple as cutting her grass. In fact, he decided it was best to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the visit.

It was best, but probably not likely.