“Tell me how you really feel, stud.” The woman at Jasper’s side is stunning. Warm brown eyes, wavy chestnut hair that falls past her shoulders, and perfect makeup. She walks with a poise I can only dream about.
The moment Emi sees me, she smiles. “Grace. God, it’s so good to meet you. Jasper wasn’t sure when you’d be ready for visitors, but I went shopping yesterday just in case.”
Digging into her oversized purse, she pulls out a gift bag and sets it on the arm of the couch next to me. She doesn’t try to touch me. Doesn’t stare. Just tucks herself against Jasper’s side.
I pull a piece of purple tissue paper out of the bag. “A phone?”
“AJ told Jasper he hadn’t gotten you one yet. All our numbers are saved already. Even Isabel’s—she’s Connor’s fiancée. I also loaded a lot of music on it. A little bit of everything so you can figure out what you like now.”
What I like…now…
I open the box, tears pricking at my eyes. The phone’s dark purple case has a big silver ring on the back, and I stare at it, confused.
Emi ducks out from under Jasper’s arm and perches on the edge of the coffee table. “It’s to help you hold it,” she says softly. “Can I show you?”
At my nod, she eases the device from my hand, tugs on the ring, and slides her index finger through it.
“See? The case isn’t slippery either. I have the same one in green.” She passes it back to me, and I slide my finger through the ring, testing the weight of it in my left hand.
The screen lights up, a photo of Belle out on the deck behind the date and time.
“The passcode is AJ’s birthday. It was all I could think of since Jasper has the same one,” she says, a pink tinge flushing her cheeks.
I swipe my finger up, muscle memory taking over when my brain struggles with what to do. The other night, I finally asked AJ how old he was—how old I was—but that also required me to ask him what year it was now. Not knowing even that detail was enough to send me spiraling. I know he’s forty-five and I’m forty-one. My birthday is in August. But his… Panic stole everything but the month.
May.
Emi leans closer, dropping her voice so only Parker and I can possibly hear her as she rattles off the numbers. Straightening, she adds, “I kept it simple. Music, texts, photos. All the other apps are on the next screen. Don’t feel like you have to use it unless you want to. We—all of us—mostly text rather than call. But you can ignore us if we get too much. Isabel, Parker, and I can be a little…chatty.”
She’s so casual about all of it. Like this is nothing. But it’s so much more to me.
“Thank you.” The words are scratchy and rough, but Emi doesn’t seem to notice. I clear my throat. “How did you know I like purple?”
“You seem like a purple person. It’s a strong color, but it doesn’t shout, y’know?” A tiny shrug lifts her shoulders.
Before I can figure out how to respond—how to tell her what the compliment means to me—three strong knocks come from the front door.
The men all stiffen at once. Belle jumps off the couch and positions herself in front of me. AJ meets my gaze. “Hardison’s here.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
AJ
The house is too full. Too loud, even though no one’s saying a word. Belle is on high alert. Parker eases herself out of the chair and drops down next to Grace. Emi perches on the arm of the couch, close enough the two women could easily form a shield around my wife in a heartbeat.
The visual hits me hard enough to steal the air from my lungs.
They’re protecting her.
Jasper and Connor lean against the wall a few feet away, but there’s nothing casual about their stances.
If this wasn’t Grace… If she didn’t look like she was about to come apart at the seams… If we had even a single fucking lead to go on… the tension in the room would be laughable.
But it is. She does. And we don’t.
Parker’s right. Hardison’s a boy scout. I don’t think the man has broken a single goddamned rule since the day he was born. If Harris got to him already, this could be a disaster.
He knocks again.
