Page 38 of Captive Lies

“And it’s your business how?” Grant snapped. As much as he loved his sister, he hated her bitchiness and certainly wasn’t blind toit.

“What?” his sister replied innocently. “I’m just showing my concern for Blaire’s aunt. What if her neighbor hadn’t foundher.”

Bullshit. Grant fumed and judging by the tight expression on Blaire’s face, she thought thesame.

“I appreciate your concern, Val,” Blaire said with saccharine sweetness. “I’ll look into it.” Walking past his sister, and clearly dismissing her, Blaire opened the refrigerator to take an inventory. “I can make eggs and sausage for breakfast. Anyonehungry?”

Unconcerned that they weren’t alone, he approached his woman and brushed her ear with his mouth. “Iam.”

Blaire inhaled sharply and flicked him a glare even as she turned scarlet. “Grant…”

“What?” His brows shot upinnocently.

“Maybe we should go and leave you two lovebirds alone,” his mom suggested, smiling at him slyly. “On second thought, are you sure you should be exerting yourself, Grant, after the night youhad?”

“Mom,” he growled at his mother’s innuendo even if he did bring it onhimself.

Blaire, turning redder if possible, grabbed the eggs and sausage from the fridge and moved to the center island. His woman was flustered and damned if he wasn’t fucking turned on. His frustration at having unwanted company increased and Grant hoped he could make it throughbreakfast.

The morning mealprogressed without much drama or any more embarrassing moments. To Grant’s surprise, Valerie behaved and didn’t make more snide comments toward Blaire. He was proud of his woman as she turned out to be a gracious hostess. She sent one of his security guys to the bakery at the corner street for some crusty French boule and assorted muffins. She cooked enough for an army and even invited their security detail, including his mother and Val’s teams, to the table. They respectfully declined, so Blaire made them a platter to take back to their quarters and sandwiches for those who needed to stand guardoutside.

“Your dad is flying up tomorrow,” his mother informed him. “He was worried for you. If he didn’t have that breakfast meeting with the president’s Chief of Staff, he’d be on his way to Boston rightnow.”

“What’s the meetingabout?”

“Your dad’s reelection campaign. The party is discussing the next presidential election.” That was three years away, but potential candidates were being scouted and built up early. There were a lot of lessons learned from the tight and controversial race of the lastelection.

“Is Dadinterested?”

His mother sighed. “He’s keeping his options open, but I’m not too keen on theidea.”

“I don’t blame you, Mom. Being a senator is one thing, butpresident?”

“You know how all these newly inaugurated presidents enter the White House with a head of black hair but when they leave it’s all gray?” his motherquipped.

Grant laughed. “You’re concerned with Dad’s gray hair? It’s almost all graynow.”

“Pshaw, you know I’m not that superficial,” his mother said, her Southern accent more pronounced. “But it’s a tell of how stressful the job is. I don’t want that for yourdad.”

“In any case, Mom, you’d make a great first lady.” Grant meant that statement wholeheartedly. His mother had Southern charm and warmth that could relate to the people in the Heartland that felt disconnected from their leaders inWashington.

“Well, then you probably need to think about settling down soon,” Mom looked pointedly at Blaire who lost allcolor.

“Uh …” his woman stuttered, caught off-guard by his mother’scomment.

“Less tabloid fodder that way,” his mother sighed. “I know you’re not the playboy the tabloids make you out to be, Grant. I know my son better. Your dad pretty much has the senate race locked down.” His mother shrugged. “Unless some God-forbidden scandal happens to our family, which I hope it won’t.” His mom looked pointedly at Val, but Blaire was the one who choked on her orangejuice.

“The pressure, Mom,” Val grumbled and forked a spoonful of egg into hermouth.

“It would help if you stayed away from college professors for a while.” Mom didn’t specify “married college professors,” probably to spare Val the humiliation in front of Blaire, but Grant didn’t think his woman heard anything else other than “scandal.”

This breakfast needed to end soon, he thought grimly as he watched Blaire swallow a piece of bread with difficulty. He tried to catch her eyes, but she wouldn’t look at him and instead stared at herplate.

It was with much relief when Jake stepped through the threshold because he could ask his surprise visitors to leave without offending their sensibilities. Grant hated the political correctness of itall.

14

Grant

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