Page 53 of Saving Grace

“Oh, is that a threat, Matthew Foster?”

“You bet it is,” he muttered. He glanced up and saw Sheila bringing our food. He cleared his throat. “Thanks, Sheila,” Matt said as plates of a hearty breakfast landed in front of us.

“Enjoy, guys!” Sheila looked between us and smiled big. That sure was a change from the scene earlier that morning. Relieved, I felt my appetite return. I grabbed the butter dish and smeared a good amount on my waffles.

“I thought you weren’t hungry?” Matt teased as he poured syrup on his pancakes.

“Like you said, I’m eating for two,” I quipped. “And I’m all for opportunistic eating.”

Matt chuckled as he dug into his creamed beef, and we decided to talk about what we were going to do for the rest of the day.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Matt

Matt was behind on the restoration of a 1969 Chevy Chevelle and worked almost all day on the vehicle after his breakfast with Grace. He hated the hours he was away from her and decided to cut back the number of jobs he’d take for himself. It wasn’t like he needed the income, but it was a little extra for his mechanics. Matt’s contract jobs with the CIA paid handsomely, and he had enough money and investments to live more than comfortably. The garage and the MMA gym were legitimate fronts and they enabled him to do something he loved.

Except, now there was someone who’d become very important to him in a very short time. Though for years he’d chalked up his complicated attraction to Grace as a fleeting fancy that would go away once he had fucked her, Matt realized he was a fool to assume that.

Taking sex out of the equation this past few weeks proved that she was different from all the other women he’d been with before. Until Grace, Matt didn’t chase a woman. Ever. He had a healthy sexual appetite and never had a problem fulfilling those needs with casual hook-ups. Sure, there’d been women like Kyra who didn’t understand the meaning of the word “casual.” Matt sighed. He hoped the Kyra issue wouldn’t derail his efforts to win Grace’s trust.

He wished she’d get back all her memories so they could move forward from his supreme jackass behavior of before. The unknown segments in her mind hung like a pendulum blade about to hack off whatever progress he would make. He couldn’t wait out her amnesia before staking a claim. She was pregnant, and he was close to a hundred percent sure it was his. A sense of possessiveness swept through him.

“Delivery for, uh, Ms. Levinson.” An unsure voice broke through the noisy garage. All activities ceased.

A bouquet of white roses covered the face of the delivery man. He stood uncomfortably at the garage entrance, shifting from foot to foot as if the flower arrangement he was carrying was an April Fool’s joke made on the wrong bunch of people.

Axe scooted out from under the vehicle he was working on to stare at their surprise visitor. Roger leaned against the Mustang he was repairing.

“Wow, boss, pulling out all the stops, are you?” Roger smirked as he crossed his arms.

It was not from him. Roger’s grin faded when he saw Matt’s face. Yeah, his temper was about to hit the roof.Goddammit, Troy.

The delivery boy peeked from behind the roses and a dismayed look came over his face as Matt advanced toward him.

“I’ll sign for it.”

“Uh. Okay.” The boy held out the slip as Matt scrawled his signature on and grabbed the flowers. He had half a mind to throw them in the trash. He snatched the card and tore it open.

“Uh, boss—”

“Shut up, Axe,” he growled. Was this what he had to compete with? Matt was no hearts-and-flowers kind of guy but if he had to play dirty to win Grace, he’d play the damned part.

His blood boiled over when he read the note.

“What did it say?”

Matt was too furious to speak. With the flowers in one hand, and the note on the other, he stalked out of the garage with Roger and Axe trailing him.

Grace was talking to John and Cassie in front of Crowder General Store. She had gone there to pick up healthy groceries to stock up the fridge.

Cassie saw him barreling toward them and stepped in front of Grace. This irritated him more. Despite how pissed he was, he wasn’t going to hurt Grace. He couldn’t bear to harm a hair on her head.

“Matt?” Grace smiled uncertainly, first at the flowers and then at him.

“This came for you.” Matt gritted through his teeth, but instead of handing the flowers, he handed her the card. “Would you mind explaining the card?”

“Who is it from?” she asked, a frown marred her forehead as she read the note that accompanied the flowers. Her face turned ashen, throwing cold water on Matt’s anger and spiking his concern.

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