“Finally,” the colonel said under his breath, his double meaning clear. “All set, Grace?”
To Grant’s amazement, a spot of color hit her cheeks. “Yep.”
Grinning like he’d won the lottery, Mackenzie tugged her forward and let go of her hand. “Say goodbye to your father, Gray.” He threw his pack into the back of the Suburban before grabbing her duffel from her shoulder and tossing it at Grant. “We’ll put your gear in the truck.”
It was an invitation to participate in a private conversation. Better known as code for,Let’s talk, asshole.
“Keep a close eye on her, Kincaid,” the colonel said, extending his hand.
Grant exchanged the courtesy with a firm grip. “Yes, sir. Good luck in Washington.”
The colonel nodded sharply, once. Grant recognized the military speak. He had his orders. He knew what to do. He’d been dismissed. Back in the saddle and not entirely pleased to be there, he nodded at Jay and turned on his heel.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Mackenzie got straight to the point. “Just so we’re clear, Kincaid, Gray’s offer is off the table.”
“It was neveronthe table, fucknut.” Opening the driver’s side door, Grant reached in and shoved Gray’s bag into the back seat.
“One more thing. If—”
Knowing what Chase was about to say because it was the kind of thing Grant would say if their roles were reversed, he cut him off. “Save it. If anything happens to her, it’s because I’m already dead. Killing me won’t be necessary.”
Satisfied, Mackenzie nodded. “So we understand each other.”
“We do,” Grant said, shaking the hand offered.
“Good.”
“Are you two going to kiss now? Let me know so I can give you some privacy,” Gray said as she joined them.
“Anything you want to say to Kincaid?” Mackenzie prompted with a jerk of his head in Grant’s direction.
She cocked her head to the side. “Let’s roll, shit for brains?”
Mackenzie arched a brow. She scrunched hers and pressed her lips together for good measure. Fascinated, Grant watched the battle of wills unfold.
Checking her watch, she sighed heavily and gave in first. She rolled her eyes, and like a fifth grader about to recite the Gettysburg Address, she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I kissed you. And kicked you in the shin. And tried to rearrange your face. And called you bad names. And—”
Laughing, he held up a palm to get her to stop. “I got it, sunshine. We’re good.”
Her eyes narrowed, but her grin gave him something to worry about. “Don’t fucking call me sunshine, dickhead.”
“I’m almost sorry I’m going to miss this,” Mackenzie said, looking back and forth between them.
In response, Gray kissed him quick before smacking him on the cheek and walking away without so much as a backward glance. “Let’s go,” she said, banging her fist twice on the hood of the old Bronco as she made her way to the passenger side. “I have a plane to catch.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN
Six hoursafter leaving Palo Pinto, Grant finished making his rounds inside the Savannah warehouse. Locked up tight, the building offered a decent level of protection, and Tak had reported no activity from his end.
So far, there’d been no signs of Ryerson or Francisco.
If the status changed, Grant would know about it inside of thirty seconds, thanks to the sniper’s vantage point a block away.
In New York, Adam had Bodak under constant surveillance. The son of a bitch believed he was counting down the seconds until he could get his hands on Gray. It was no less than they expected from the fat bastard. But for now, they had a bit of breathing room.
Grant hit the send button on his status update to Mackenzie and the JTT and parked his ass on the concrete floor, his back against the metal wall separating him from Gray. Davis, who’d dogged his every step since his arrival, sat down beside him.
“I swear. I didn’t know what he was planning,” Joe Drummond repeated, mumbling to no one in particular. He stood across the way, hands in his pockets, his head down. “I went to the airport to get Davis and when we got back…” He shook his head. “I didn’t know.”
