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Leaping up the stairs, taking them three at a time, I worked the buttons of my uniform, ripping the shirt off the moment I was out of Grace’s view. I was eager to get back down there not only to hang out with Georgia but to support my best friend too. Though, thinking back to the vibe in the kitchen when I walked in, Shade didn’t seem as uncomfortable with her as he normally did with strangers. Maybe spending the day with her helped reduce some of his unease around both Georgia and Grace.
Fucking finally.
Besides me, the only friends he had were Anne, Caradee, and Max. Well, maybe another now that Grayson was in town to stay. Remembering that they went out there to take the kitten had jealousy shooting through my veins. Shade mentioned that Georgia thought Grayson was attractive, though now, after the comment at the general store, it made me think it was less of a statement and more her trying to find common ground with a man she assumed would also find Gray attractive.
I snorted and toed off one boot, then the other before releasing my utility belt and tossing it to the bed, only to pause. With Grace in the house, I needed to be more careful with my sidearm. Removing it from the holster, I opened the safe by my bed and placed the gun inside, pressing the lid closed with a snap, locking it up safely.
After stripping out of my uniform pants, I tugged on a pair of sweats and a short-sleeve white shirt before hurtling back down the stairs. I stopped in the living room, catching a few clips of the show Grace had on.
“What is this?” I asked, suddenly riveted.
“Is It Cake?I love this show, but I haven’t seen all the seasons yet.”
Sitting on the couch’s rounded arm, I leaned forward, bracing both elbows on top of my thighs, unable to tear my attention away from the woman making a cake that looked like a duck.
“That shit looks real.” I dropped from the arm to sit on the couch. I felt Grace’s stare on me. “What’s on your mind, kiddo?”
“I like your tattoos.”
“Thanks. So do I,” I said with a smirk. “Do you have any?”
The first smile I’d seen from her pulled at her lips. “I’m twelve.” I shrugged. “And there’s no way she would let me get one anyway.”
My hackles rose at her tone when talking about her mom. “What’s with that?”
“What?”
“That.”
“That what?” she said, sitting up and turning to face me.
“Your”—I waved a hand in her direction—“hostility toward your mom.” Just like when her mom was unsure, Grace chewed on her lower lip. “Listen, you don’t have to tell me, but let me tell you something from my perspective. You’re lucky to have a mom who loves you, who takes care of you and puts up with the way you treat her. Not everyone is so lucky.”
I swallowed down the other words that were on the tip of my tongue and turned my focus back to the TV, questioning why I’d opened that old scar to the almost-teenager.
A faint noise, almost like a hitch of breath, had my eyes flicking to where Georgia stood in the entryway to the living room, glistening eyes locked on me.
“Dinner will be ready in five,” she said, voice cracking. Without another word, she whirled around, hair fanning out around her.
The cushion molded beneath my hands as I shoved off the couch. I moved behind her, snatching her hand before she could get away.
“Sorry if I overstepped,” I whispered, searching her face for any signs of anger or annoyance.
“You didn’t.” She flipped her hand to capture mine and squeezed before dropping it and heading into the kitchen.
Shade studied us, not saying a word like the silent bastard he was.
Georgia whirled around from the stove. “Just tell me what the endgame is here. What is this?” She wrapped her thin fingers around the chair back, knuckles losing their color beneath her death grip. “Why are you two acting like this?”
“This?” I asked, crossing both arms over my chest. I smothered a cocky smirk when her eyes dropped to my tattooed arms and lingered. “Being nice to you? Being nice to your daughter when it’s clear you two are in a bad spot?”
Her shoulders slumped as if something had suddenly sucked all the fight out of her. “So that’s it. You feel bad for us. That’s what this is.” Shaking her head, she tipped her face to the ceiling, but not before I caught the tears collecting in her lower lids. “We don’t need your pity. This is temporary. Thank you for the day. It was a great distraction from the reality I’ve found myself in.” Georgia shot Shade a sad smile. “For the first time in a while, I felt like I could be myself, even if I only felt comfortable because I thought you guys weren’t into women like me.” She cringed. “Well, women in general, not just me specifically.”
“Why would that matter on feeling comfortable enough to open up?” Shade asked.
“Because there was no awkwardness, no me wondering if you’d think my odd quirks were endearing or the early stages of lunacy. It’s easier to be your true self, amateur serial killer profiler and all, when you’re not worrying about impressing your hot neighbor.” She laughed a humorless chuckle and then groaned, dropping her head forward. “But now I see this for what it is. Should’ve known you’d only want to talk to me because you felt sorry for me, like that damn kitten. I’m fucking pathetic for thinking it would be anything else.” Those last words were barely audible.
“You’re not pathetic, and you’re nothing like that damn cat,” I said, frustration mounting. I didn’t want her to walk out of the house thinking we did this because we felt sorry for her. That wasn’t it at all. “We don’t feel sorry for you. We felt something for you yesterday. We both did,” I said, motioning to Shade. “And it sure as hell wasn’t pity.”
