Chapter 3
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“Let me show you themaster closet. You won’t believe what I was able to do with the space.”
Grant watched as Brynnon took yet another couple down the hallway toward the bedrooms. Trying his best to look like another interested buyer—as she’d requested—he skimmed through the before-and-after photo album.
She’d set it out on the kitchen table to show what the house looked like when she bought it compared to now. He had to admit, she was damn good at her job.
When they’d first learned what Brynnon did for a living. Coop had assumed she was a silver-spooned brat beauty who paid someone else to be the brawn. Grant had known better.
The calluses he’d felt on her hands months ago told him she did more than hang a few pictures and smile for the buyers. Watching the way she went about last night and this morning to get things ready for the public showing, he could tell she took great pride in her work.
Not wanting to step on any toes, he’d done his best to stay out of the way throughout the day. Still, he got a few looks here and there...mainly from the female visitors.
He caught Brynnon scowling at a few when they’d blatantly flirted with him. But then she had simply put on that fake-as-fuck smile he’d seen her wear the night they first met and went back to being the gracious hostess.
For some reason, it pissed him off when she did that. She should be able to be herself all the time and not just when it suited the public eye.
Still waiting for her to get done, Grant grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. Leaning back against the counter, he took a few sips and thought of the way she’d looked when she came outside last night.
He damn near laughed when he saw her storming toward him in her bathrobe and work boots. Goddamn, she looked adorable. Not that he could tell her that.
She’d gotten all huffy and basically told him to fuck off, making him unable to sit in that damn truck any longer.
He told himself he was only taking her up on her offer to sleep on the couch for professional reasons.
Yeah, right. That’s why your dick was as hard as a goddamn two-by-four the entire night and most of today.
Grant glanced down at his strained zipper. After checking to make sure Brynnon and the others were still in the bedroom, he adjusted himself as best he could.
Usually, he had complete control over his body. It was imperative when he was a SEAL and even now as a R.I.S.C. operative. Of course, he could just blame it on the way she was dressed.
The form-fitting pencil skirt and thin, white blouse was professional and not revealing in the least. Still, he’d nearly swallowed his tongue when he caught his first glimpse of her this morning.
He’d seen nuns wearing less than she had on, yet his dick had still taken notice. The fucker had been half-hard ever since.
The pull this woman had on him was confusing as shit, and he fucking hated it.The sooner this assignment is over, the better.
Even as Grant thought it, a tiny string tugged at the place where his heart used to be. The thought of walking away from her again was unsettling, which was confusing as hell.
