Smacking his palm against the stop button on the elevator’s control board, Grant pinned the former Ranger down with a glare.
“You got something you want to say to me, Sean?”
“Whoa.” Coop held his hands palms-up. “You were just pretty damn quick on the draw taking the job from Mac like that. I figured you and Red had a thing going from when you worked for Cantrell a few months ago.”
A muscle in Grant’s jaw bulged. “You figured wrong.”
“All right.” He shook his head. “Jesus, man.”
Fuck.Coop was right. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never ripped into his teammate like that.
Grant started the elevator’s descent again. “I met her once. For about five minutes.”
“Okay.”
“Cantrell trusts me, which will make it easier to get hisdaughterto trust me.”
“You don’t have to keep explaining yourself, Hill. I get it, all right?”
Damn it. He didn’t want Coop or anyone else on Alpha Team thinking he had a thing for Brynnon Cantrell. She was no different than any other client.
Keep telling yourself that shit, asshole. Maybe one day, you’ll actually believe it.
With a couple of shared nods, the two men parted ways. Grant climbed into his black GMC Sierra and entered the flip house address into his phone’s GPS.
Twenty minutes later, he was parking in front of a single-story home. As he got out, he gave the property an assessing glance.
Picture-perfect bushes and mulched landscaping trimmed the front of the house. Two pots filled with bright yellow mums framed each side of the bottom step, and what appeared to be a brand-new sidewalk led from the paved driveway to the small, covered porch.
Grant’s apartment was small and bare. A place to shower, sleep, and eat. But even someone like him could appreciate the curb appeal this small house held.
Raising a fist, he knocked on the pristine, white door. From behind the decorative glass, he heard a muffled female.
“Come in.”
She couldn’t be that stupid.Grant tried the doorknob. Sure enough, it was unlocked.
“Seriously?” He let himself in and closed the door behind him. Grant took a few seconds to study the space in front of him.
The living room was small, yet the wood floors combined with the way the furniture had been arranged made it appear spacious. It was also unoccupied.
Opening his mouth, he was about to ask where she was when the voice of his dreams called out. “I’m in here!”
Grant closed his eyes and took a deep breath, willing himself not to go storming in and let the fool woman know the billion and one reasons she was putting herself at risk.
Remembering he had no claim over her, he quietly made his way toward the open archway at the far left of the room.
Once there, he had the choice to either go left or right. To his right was a narrow hallway with four closed doors. Bedrooms and bathrooms, he assumed. To his left was the kitchen.
There, sticking out from beneath the sink, were two lean, jean-clad legs. A pair of dirty, women’s work boots were attached to the feet.
“You can just leave the food on the table,” she instructed without bothering to come out. “The check’s already made out and signed, tip included. Thanks.”
Grant shook his head in disbelief. She was in a vulnerable position with absolutely no clue about who’d just walked into her house, and she didn’t seem bothered in the least.
Jesus.He could be a fucking serial rapist or some shit, and she’d just let him waltz right in.
He took a few steps closer but still remained silent. A few strained grunts and muddled curses came from beneath the sink as she struggled with whatever it was she was trying to do.
