Grayson’s truck screams into the parking lot less than ten minutes later. He runs in, checking me over before grabbing my hand and escorting me out to the truck.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I’m fine,” I promise him. “Better now that you’re here.”
He kisses my knuckles, helping load up my groceries. “Get in the truck and lock the doors. I’ll be right back, and then I’ll follow you home. Okay?”
I nod, getting in and starting it. He gives me a stern look, and I remember to lock it like he asked before he’s rushing back into the store. He’s only in there for a couple minutes before he runs back out, tapping on my window. I roll it down.
“I didn’t see anyone, but that doesn't mean they weren’t there. You did the right thing by texting me. I will always come running if you call.Always,” he promises, dropping a kiss on my forehead. “I’ll follow you back home.”
Home. What a concept. It feels less like a place and more like a person now.
Research Notes: cowboys protect what’s theirs.
grayson
. . .
THIRTY-SEVEN
I follow Maisie’s taillights,remaining a safe distance behind her. I should have just thrown her in my truck and made Chesney come get his, but I was so flustered to get her home, I didn’t want her exposing herself.
I know it wasthem. They’ve been keeping tabs on me, and now, it seems, Maisie too. I should kick myself for thinking we live in some bubble where no one could get to us if I kept playing my part. They don’t care. They care about me staying focused and winning them money. They didn’t like that my last fight was ugly, and they also don’t like that Maisie has taken up the majority of the thoughts in my head.
I should have told her to wait for me. She’s independent, though, so she probably would have told me to fuck right off, and that would have been that.
I regret not tearing that store apart until I found who was stalking her, but my need to get her safely home won out. I couldn’t spend another second without having eyes on her. I’m sure as soon as they saw me pull up, they dipped out the back doors. The fact the man let Maisie see him at all means they were sending a warning. They wanted her to know she’s being watched. Or, more specifically, formeto know.
We are home in no time. I hop out of my truck to open her door for her before she’s parked. I want her inside as soon as possible, so I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. I usher her inside, noticing a few packages on the porch from the mail Roxy must have dropped off.
“Jesus, Grayson,” she yells. “I can walk myself into the damn house. Plus, there’s groceries in the back seat.”
“I’ll get them,” I grunt, throwing her down on the couch. She crosses her arms over her chest, glaring at me.
I run out of the house, checking the long drive to make sure no cars followed us here before grabbing the few bags of groceries and kicking the boxes stacked by the door in with my foot. Maisie swipes a small box from the pile with her name on it while I put the groceries away. If she shopped for us, I’ll for damn sure be putting them away. I chuckle under my breath when I see the new bottle of lube she bought.
I start opening the boxes addressed to me—a new security system to watch over Maisie. You can never be too cautious when you have the mafia breathing down your neck. I pull out two new security cameras and an alarm system when something shiny and glittering draws my attention.
“What the fuck is that?” I growl.
Maisie's wide eyes snap to mine, her small hand pinching a wedding ring in front of her face. She looks between the ring and me, trying to come up with words.
“It’s from Carl,” she mutters, lookingconfused.
“Your cheating ex?” I seethe.
“Well, yeah, but not like that?—”
“Lose the fucking ring, Maisie, before I do it for you. It’s not spending another fucking second under my roof.” I take a step forward, but she draws the ring into her chest, hiding it from me.
“No! You can’t have it.”
Is this woman trying to drive me crazy? I can already check off bad men stalking her today. I don’t need to add her lying,cheating, piece of shit ex sending her love declarations in the mail. Does she still want him? Does she stilllovehim?
“Why?” I grit out, ugly, green envy flooding my vision.
“Because I told him to send it to me.”
