Ride Rough (Raven Riders 2)

“I’m ready,” she announced when she returned to the kitchen.

Grant gestured with his finger for her to turn for him. She did. “Even more beautiful than I remembered you being in that dress,” he said.

The ride was easy and the time passed quickly with Grant filling her in on how a couple of his projects were developing. The only weirdness happened when she brought up something she probably shouldn’t have.

“Hey, I meant to ask you. What happened to all the newspapers this week? You never left them for me.”

“What do you mean? They were on the desk in the kitchen,” he said.

Alexa frowned. “Really? I didn’t see them. You usually put them on my desk when you’re done with them.”

“Well, forgive me for being a little busy, Alexa.” He gave her a look.

“No, no, of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. It just occurred to me that I hadn’t seen them.” She grasped his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Why is it such a big deal, anyway?” he asked, gaze straight ahead.

“Oh, I just happened to see one of the papers at Mom’s and I hadn’t heard anything about that horrible shooting and attempted kidnapping incident that happened out at Green Valley. That’s all. I was just surprised I hadn’t seen anything about it.”

He shrugged. “The Ravens are such bad fucking news for this town. Violence at their hands is hardly a surprise.”

Schooling her reaction, Alexa swallowed. “I was just curious about it. That’s all.”

“Well, I can’t help it if you didn’t see the papers. It’s not like I was hiding them from you,” he said. His cell rang, and he picked it up on the car’s Bluetooth. “Grant Slater here.”

When he hung up a few minutes later, she apologized again, wanting his good humor back more than anything. Then she steered the conversation to safer subjects, and his mood rebounded.

Two hours later, they were driving through the quaint, small town of St. Michaels on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. They passed antique shops and small eateries on the main street and finally turned onto a long brick-paved and tree-lined driveway that eventually opened up onto a broad courtyard surrounded by a series of white buildings.

“Oh my God. Is this where they filmed Wedding Crashers?” Alexa asked, peering out the window as Grant pulled the car up to the lobby.

Grant laughed and gave her a teasing look. “Leave it to you to know a pop culture reference for one of the nicest resorts in all of Maryland.”

The valet opened her door. “Welcome to the Inn at Perry Cabin,” a man wearing a gray-and-black uniform said.

“Thank you.” She accepted his hand to rise out of the Mercedes.

Grant came around to guide her through the doors with a hand low on her bare back. As they walked inside, he leaned down and pressed his mouth close to her ear. “Every man is looking at this dress and wishing they could be the one to take it off of you. But that pleasure is mine alone. You are mine alone.”

“Of course,” she said with a shiver as she peered up at him.

“Don’t ever forget it,” he said, his expression serious, his gaze piercing.

Before she could respond, they were standing at the reception desk and Grant was checking them in. His words echoed over her body along with a rush of goose bumps. His claiming words had been arousing, but that last line left her feeling . . . odd. Why had he felt the need to say that? She’d been with him for nearly five years. She worked for him, lived with him, wore his ring, and planned to marry him. There wasn’t one part of her life that wasn’t bound up with his. Of course she was his.

Except, just then, images of another man flashed through her head. Maverick. Hugging her mother. Smiling over his shoulder at her on his bike. Raking his hands through his hair. Oh, God. Does he know Maverick was at my mother’s today?

Fear and guilt sloshed through her belly. Although, why should she feel guilty? She hadn’t invited Maverick to come, and certainly nothing had happened between them. Then why aren’t you volunteering that you saw him?

“Alexa?” Grant asked.

She blinked up at him, and the look on his face told her he’d called her name more than once. “Sorry,” she said. “Lost in a daydream.”

Grant shook his head and gave her an indulgent smile. “You? Always. Let’s check out our suite,” he said. “I’ve reserved a private dining room for us and we have dinner in an hour.”

“Wow, you didn’t have to do all that, Grant. I’m sure the regular restaurant here is lovely,” Alexa said, taking in the light and airy décor. It was a mix of colonial charm and nautical colors and accents. Large windows provided expansive water views throughout the whole back side of the building, and comfy sitting rooms and reading nooks appeared around every corner.