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He looked at the TV. “What things?”
“Did you fly like that in the Air Force?”
He took the remote out of her hand. “You need to shut your brain off, not think of that.”
The TV shut off. “It’s sexy though,” she said, laughing.
“Don’t try to get me to talk about it.”
“Why don’t you ever talk about it?”
“I will tomorrow night when this is over. For now, this is about you relaxing. Tell me what you want to do.”
“I want to walk along the beach and feel the sand in my toes and the sun on my back. I’m putting my suit on. I feel at peace there and that will help.”
“Then that is what we will do,” he said, standing up with her still in his arms. He cradled her for a minute, kissed her, then set her down and slapped her ass.
She laughed and turned to wink at him, then found her suit and changed into it. She thought maybe with her standing there naked he’d want to do something else, but he only grinned.
It was probably for the best. She needed to have a clear head and the water was the best way for that to happen.
31
GUARDING YOUR WORDS
“When are you going to tell me if you won or not?” Lincoln asked when they were seated on the Bond jet the next night.
“I can’t believe it’s taken you this long to ask,” Grace said, bumping her elbow into his.
“I’m used to not asking questions,” he said. Too many years just being told to do his job. The less he knew the better at times too.
Maybe Grace asking him that question last night after seeing a SWAT rescue on TV brought back some of it.
He was also good about compartmentalizing a lot of his life too.
Could be he was too good at it because he’d missed the signs with Roxy. Which he’d been pushing from his brain too, but Grace’s question yesterday brought that up again.
“I don’t want to let people know when I get home,” she said. “Not even my family. Do you think that is wrong of me?”
“No,” he said. “It’s your choice to celebrate or mourn. I know you, you’d be beating yourself up over it. You’re happy right now so I think I know what happened.”
She laughed even harder. “Then I’ve got you fooled and will everyone else.”
“You didn’t win?” he asked, shocked if that was the case since she didn’t seem upset or disappointed.
“Between us, because I know I can trust you—no, I didn’t. And I’m glad about that.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“One, I don’t want anyone to think I won because of who I am. Or if they find out that maybe I was added on last minute. I have no idea if there were supposed to be eight or nine contestants.”
“Producers have the right to change their minds at all times,” he said.
“That is right. It did seem as if everyone was contacted like Hunter was and asked if they were interested and to apply. I didn’t have to apply and we know that.” She held her hand up when he went to speak. “Before you say anything about a cancellation. I’m sure they had hundreds of applicants they could have filled that slot with. We both know that. There is more to this, I just feel it.”
He’d thought the same thing. “You’re probably right but it’s not something you can control. Don’t tell me you threw it.”
“I’d never do that,” she said. “I can’t in good conscience. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself and I wouldn’t do it to make The Retreat look bad. Not only did Pierre deserve to win because he had some better dishes than me, but he could use the money.”
