“Small world, don’tcha think?” Tank replied. “What’s the word?”
Caroline had plenty of words for Grey, but none bore uttering.
She poured herself a coffee, then left the break room. Grey caught up to her. “We’re workin’ in the conference room.”
“We?”
Going forward, she wasn’t assuming anything.
“You, me, Teddy—Tank,” he replied.
With a simple nod, she U-turned toward the conference room. She wanted to sneak a quick peek at him and get rewarded with another adrenaline hit. She wanted to run her fingertips down his beard and trace his perfectly kissable lips. What she wanted wasn’t going to happen. Certainly not there and definitely not later.
Grey was a player, and she was stepping out of his playground.
He wrapped his hand around her arm, pulled her to a stop. “Hey, what’s goin’ on?”
She regarded him. “Well, we have a group of terrorists having F for fun in our country. We don’t know jack about where they are or what they’re doing, but we know it’s not good. I got very little sleep, then I overslept, and my concierge let that asshole from the club into my building this morning. I could keep going, but you get the point.”
She tugged her arm away, walked into the conference room, and unearthed her laptop. He shut the door, and she flicked her gaze his way. And everything Grey magnified a million-fold.
Beyond his obvious good looks, it was the confidence in his stance, the energy thundering off him, and the powerful way he commanded that small space that had her spellbound.
“Stan from last night?”
“That’s the one.”
“Please sit.” When she did, he sat at the head, catty-corner. “How’d he know where you live?”
“He gave me a ride home once.”
“What else does he know about you?”
“My name, thanks to the concierge.”
“Do you have a photo of him?”
“No.”
Greystone made a call, set his phone on the conference room table.
“Yo, brother,” Hawk answered.
“There’s a member at your club, goes by Stan,” Grey said. “We might have a stalker.”
“Hi, Hawk,” Caroline said. “His last name is Bowers.”
“Hey, Caroline. Hold a sec, I gotta log in.” Seconds later, Hawk said, “Got him. He’s been flagged and I made a note. If you file a complaint online or in the app, we can talk to him.”
“I’m gonna be super busy with work, so I’m not planning on going back to Lost Souls anytime soon,” she said, cementing her gaze on Grey.
“Thanks, Hawk.” Grey hung up, blanketed her hand with his. “We gotta make sure you’re safe.”
Though her pulse jumped, she pulled her hand away to reveal her Glock, tucked inside its holster. “I can take care of myself.”
Knock-knock.
The door burst open. Tank stood in the doorway. “Are we workin’ here?”
