Page 33 of Sighs By the Sea

“We’re video chatting now.”

“In person, Maggie. You know I can’t talk over the phone.” His voice has gone into the growling range, and the rumble sends a shiver through me. I hate how much I like it.

“Yes, when did you have in mind?” Though I hate it, my mind is already picturing us at another intimate restaurant, flirting over drinks and candlelight. This man has a grip on me, and it’s impossible to fight.

I see on his screen that he’s moving around, and my doorbell rings. “How about now?”

Oh, fuck. I take a quick look down. I’m in my pajamas, and they’re not sexy. But since I’m currently on the phone with him, I can’t exactly change.

“Detective Parker? Are you going to let me in?” There’s that tone again, sultry and amused.

I open the front door, bracing myself for his reaction.

He takes a single look at me, and I can tell he’s holding in his laughter. “Is that…Spiderman?”

I cross my arms and step to the side. “It is. I wasn’t exactly expecting an ex-con to show up at nine o’clock.” He looks fabulous as always in dark pants and a polo shirt that stretches over his wide shoulders. The way I’m dressed suddenly feels even more ridiculous, and a blush rises to my cheeks.

“This ex-con doesn’t mind not sticking to a normal schedule. Especially when he has information.”

He comes in and looks around. My face grows an even deeper red. My place is a mess. Boxes of old takeout litter the coffee table, and my work clothes from the last several days are spread around the living room.

“I must say, Detective, this suits you.”

“What do you need that couldn’t wait until tomorrow, Grayson?”

“I was in LA for work and figured this was easier than coming back again. It’s a long drive.”

The investigator in me takes over. My eyes narrow. “What business do you have in LA?”

“Looking at expanding our fleet of tour boats. I had a long meeting with a very aggressive woman.” I roll my eyes. I bet a lot of women are aggressive around Grayson. His giant firm body and dark eyes are like an invitation for sex. I’m sure he has his pick of tall and leggy blondes. There’s no shortage of them in California. My irritation skyrockets, picturing a woman with model good looks rubbing her feet up his leg under a boardroom table. Might as well be fucking right in front of me. Asshole.

“So what’s your information?” I ask as he stops in front of my couch. It's covered in clothes, but so what? Not everyone can be a neurotic jerk that makes me feel like the world is tilted the wrong way.

He pushes some clothes to the side and sits. It bothers me. Him in my home, looking so comfortable. I want to simultaneously shove him out and jump his bones.

“Relax, Detective. I’ll be out of your hair quickly. A man named Kip told me the gangs have joined in the fun.”

“Carl ‘Kip’ Jones? He’s been on our wanted list for years.” I scramble over to a box of files that is on the floor near my recliner. Thumbing through it, I find Kip and fish out his mug shot from a B&E a few years back. "This him?"

Grayson nods. “Yep. His real name is Carl? Huh, you think you know someone…" he trails off.

"Do you know where he is?"

"Of course not. If I did, I would tell you, Maggie. But he called from a blocked number. Said ‘Axe’ asked him if he wanted to do the hit on me for $50,000.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. I don't know an Axe off the top of my head. Scanning down Kip's file, I find his alias on a list of known associates. My eyes are moving too quickly to really read, and I have to remind myself to calm down. But when a case breaks open like this, you grab it by the haunches and hump it like the gift it is.

Reading aloud, I say, "‘Axe’ is an MS13 gang leader. He got his name from his affinity for killing with blunt axes," I put a hand on my temple. "Gray, we need to get Georgie out of here. Preferably out of the state. You know how these guys work! They could grab him from daycare and try to use—"

His hand rises calmly. "Maggie, George is gone. He's with my in-laws, who have a different last name. Tilly reserved the flight, and Greg had an old FBI agent drive us to my in-laws' place. They've also promised to keep an eye on things up there."

Shit, again and times a million. Sending his son away is probably killing him. His hands settle on my shoulders. "He will be fine. Safe."

My chest tightens at how hurt he sounds. “I’m so sorry, Grayson.” I can't help it, I throw my arms around him as he chuckles out an 'oomph.'

He's tense at first, but his body relaxes as I tighten my grip. “No one’s fault but my own, Detective,” he finally says as his hand rubs gentle patterns on my back.

I scoff. “Hardly.”

---