Page 50 of Crossfire

“It’s such a beautiful day,” Grayson said. “Won’t be many more of them before winter hits. Would you like to take our coffee to go and enjoy a walk?”

Grayson stood strong, a flirtatious smile threatening his lips, his face full of hope and charm.

“Yes,” I decided. “I’d like that.”

He probably didn’t realize the significance of my decision, but after spending the morning wondering if I really wanted to take any step, no matter how small, to get to know him better, the answer became resoundingly clear.

Yes.

Yes, I did.

A few minutes later, Grayson and I stepped out into the unexpected embrace of sixty-two-degree weather. The sun beamed down, its rays gently caressing my face with a tender warmth—tricking us into thinking a brutal winter wasn’t on its way—while a playful breeze danced around us, carrying the aroma of fresh pastries. The city’s pulse thrummed in the background with cars gliding past, their engines humming. Somewhere in the distance, the piercing wail of an ambulance sliced through the air, a stark reminder that someone was in need of urgent medical care.

When we stepped out onto the sidewalk, Grayson moved to my left, placing his hand on my lower back.

My breath caught slightly from the sudden jolt of warmth from his touch, and it took me a second to realize what he had done—placed me in the safer position on the sidewalk by putting his body between me and traffic.

It was a small gesture, but one that had a large impact on my heart.

This guy was chronically protective, wasn’t he? From big things, like a person grabbing my arm; to emotional things, like an ex-boyfriend trying to hurt me; to everyday things, like the risk that a car could veer off the road and hit a pedestrian.

I had never had anyone shield me like this, and while I was an independent woman, his efforts to protect me spoke volumes about his character.

And made me like him even more.

“You know, hearing that you lost both parents…” I gripped the warm ridges of the to-go cup between my hands. “It has me thinking…ever since my father died, I’ve been fixated on his death and the problems that it left behind. Maybe I’ve been taking everything else in my life for granted.”

Grayson seemed to consider this for a beat, and when he spoke, his voice was like warm caramel. “Anyone in your shoes would want answers, too, Ivy. And you also inherited quite a financial problem. Your attention has been where it should be—to try and move forward. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

One. Two. Three.

That’s how long he stared directly into my eyes, and it took a loud honk from an irritated taxi driver in a nearby intersection to pull me from the little spell I’d been in. Swooping a runaway section of hair from my face, I tried to swoop away how much it meant to me—that he didn’t chide me like everyone else did.

“Maybe they’re right,” I wondered. “Maybe I should stop searching for answers as to why my dad ended his life. I have enough to worry about with the bills for my grams’s care.”

We stopped at an intersection, waiting for the Walk sign to illuminate as vehicles bulldozed through the lanes.

“What’s your next move?” Grayson asked once we started walking again.

Oh Lord. What an anxiety-inducing thought. “First, I need to talk to their billing department in person, see if I can negotiate a little more time. I’ve already tried picking up extra shifts at work, but the hospital system I work for is actually reducing hours, due to budget cuts, so I’m applying online for other floating positions.” I took a sip of my coffee, wishing I could swallow my anxiety with it. “I’ll figure something out.”

I had to. And in the meantime, I really didn’t want to think about this, because it stressed me out too much.

“What about you?” I asked as we turned a corner. Here, the air dropped nearly ten degrees when a thirty-story building blocked the warmth of the sun, draping us in a cool and dark shadow. “What do you do for a living?”

Grayson took a sip of his coffee, his Adam’s apple bobbing as it cascaded down his throat.

An Adam’s apple was now on my list of sexy things.

“I work in risk assessment.” His voice was low and steady.

“Risk assessment.” Was that even a thing?

“I’m an independent security consultant who helps evaluate threats against United States citizens.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Really?”That’s not a job you hear about every day. “What kind of threats?”

Grayson looked away for a moment, a shadow crossing his face before he continued, “I can’t disclose too much due to confidentiality, but let’s just say I try to keep people safe from potential dangers.”

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