Playing with Danger (Desire Bay 2)

“I’m your mother, and you’re treating me like some common employee.”

“No, I’m not at all. My employees show up and actually work for a salary.”

“Oh, I put in my time with your father, and he knew his part in the separation. I’m still his wife. Now his widow. And that counts for something.”

Not to Grant, it didn’t. How could she be that entitled? She’d never cared about anyone’s feelings but her own, and her top priority was money.

Grant closed his eyes and tried to think of one good thing about his mother. Just one.

She was always around for me growing up . . . nope, that’s not true.

She taught me how to treat a woman . . . no, that’s not true, either.

She loved me . . . no.

Grant was certain that his mother was only capable of loving herself. His father had been responsible for how he turned out. He tried every day to be the best man he could to make his father’s memory proud. Because he owed everything to him.

His mother was the kind of woman Grant never wanted to know, and yet, he was surrounded by that kind of woman. Fake, ruthless, entitled. Which was why he’d fallen in love with Hannah so quickly and easily. The only commonality she had was the ruthlessness. But she used that for good instead of evil.

“The will stands, Mother,” he said curtly.

“Don’t you dare hang up on me,” she said.

“Talk to your lawyer, and he’ll talk to mine.”

And he did hang up. Because he couldn’t bear to deal with the woman who’d given him life, then sucked it out of him.

How could someone be so evil? She didn’t love his father. Grant wasn’t even convinced she loved him. His mother loved money. And Grant had to make sure that the one thing his father had left behind would stay intact. His company was all he had left of him. And Grant wouldn’t let anything happen to it. Including having pieces sold off to his mother due to the technicality that she was now legally a widow.

He shook his head. The timing wasn’t on his side. His phone buzzed again, and it was his lawyer. He sent it to voice mail. Surely his company wouldn’t fall apart in the time he was gone. He still checked in. But his board only had one meeting later this month, and they weren’t voting on anything life changing. Two weeks for him to take a breather to get his wife back was reasonable. He wouldn’t let his mother get his father’s company, and he wouldn’t let anything go to ruin. He also needed to get Hannah on board in the two weeks he’d planned, because he couldn’t take much longer than that away from the city or his responsibilities.

He got up out of the best rest he’d had in a long time and felt the sting of morning air hit the welts on his back. His wife was a feisty one, and he loved feeling her even though she was gone.

He walked out into the living area, which was small but homey, looking extra-long at the couch. He already loved that couch and had fond memories of his wife bent over it just last night. That would put a spring in any man’s step.

He went to make a pot of coffee and saw a pink sticky note.

Left early for work. Don’t be a bum today.

~H

He smiled at Hannah’s flowy script. The woman worked hard. Or she was avoiding him. His money was on the latter. But she couldn’t stay gone forever. He’d proven that. And there was no way he’d bum around when he had his woman’s heart to re-win and plans to remind her how good they were together.

Judging by last night, his recall was sorely lacking, because she was better in every way than his poor excuse for a memory. She was wild and passionate, and he felt her love for him. Whether she admitted it or not. Just like he’d felt it six months ago. And that was what he’d remind her of. Because he’d had his share of cold women. Women who always had an agenda. Women who wanted something from him. Not Hannah. Never Hannah. She just wanted him. She also didn’t know exactly what he could offer—like a fuck load of money—but that was best kept secret for now.

But he’d show her just how good having a husband around could be. Starting with a stroll into town.

Hannah dunked two martini glasses in the sanitizing solution behind the bar, then put them in the mini dishwasher. Then repeated the task with small tumblers. The owner clearly didn’t give a crap about cleaning up after closing last night. Rudy Bangs was almost useless. Other than being a fairly nice guy and coming in for Hannah when she needed a break—like last night, so she could leave by dinnertime to go get her dad out of jail. But as an owner, or even a bartender, he sucked. Didn’t do shit.

Which was why he was looking to sell and Hannah was looking to buy. If only he’d just commit to actually selling the bar instead of talking about it.

She kept washing dishes, taking advantage of the slow late-afternoon shift.

She thought about the sticky note she’d left for Grant this morning.

Did he read it?

Was she mean for ducking out at 6:00 a.m. and hiding at Laura’s house until now, when she hid at the bar? Work. She was working, not hiding. And she’d keep telling herself that until she believed it.