Page 21 of My Secret Santa Clayton

Fuck, I wanted to kiss her. Wanted to grab her and pull her in, make her forget whatever was scaring her. No one was around. I could take her inside, show her what she’d been missing all these years.

But neither of us moved.

“Maybe you should've what?” My voice sounded rough even to my own ears. She took a heavy breath, eyes flickering away, then back to me.

“I um…”

We both jumped at the shrill ring of her cell phone, the moment shattered.

“Damn,” she muttered under her breath, fishing the vibrating phone from her pocket. She glanced at the screen, and her eyes went wide—wider than I’ve ever seen them. “Sorry, I have to take this,” she said, then answered. “Rob?”

‘Rob’ pierced something inside me, leaving a raw, jagged hole where hope used to be. Fists clenching on the steeringwheel, I stared out at the falling snow, pretending it didn’t sting. Pretending I didn't care.

“Hey,” she said, her voice now tight, all traces of earlier warmth gone as if snuffed out by the blizzard outside. “Yeah, I'm just getting home. No, no, everything's fine.” She wasn’t talking to me anymore; she was somewhere else—with him, whoever he was. She opened her door and slipped out of the truck with barely a glance at me.

“Thanks, Clay,” she threw over her shoulder, her focus riveted to the damn phone. A distracted, half-hearted thanks, not much different from the chilly breeze that followed her exit.

“Sure thing,” I managed, but she was already shutting the door, sealing off her world from mine.

I watched her for a second longer, the way her shadow moved against the backdrop of her house, illuminated by the porch light in the drifting snow.

But there was nothing more to see here.

Nothing but a lonely drive home.

TEN

Grace

I slammed the door shut, my back against it, heart racing. Three locks clicked: deadbolt, chain, and a flimsy slide lock. I took a breath, but it shuddered out like I was freezing.

I'd let Mariah in later. For now, I needed to feel safe.

“Grace, you there?” Rob's voice crackled through my phone, grating on my nerves.

“Here,” I said, dropping my keys. They clattered too loudly. “I'm safe.”

“Good,” he replied, but his voice was uncertain. “One of our contacts said people know you skipped town.”

“Really?” I paused, eyes darting to the window. “Damn it…I really hoped I would have more time.”

“Shit, Grace. You think you were followed?”

“I've had better days,” I forced a laugh, but it sounded rough. “Probably nothing. Just nerves.”

“Damn straight it's something,” he insisted. “You don't rattle easy.”

“Maybe. But I can't jump at shadows.” I moved away from the door and turned on a lamp. Its light left dark corners in the room.

“Grace, talk to me,” Rob urged. “What happened? You were threatened. It's time to spill the beans.”

“Rob, I don’t want to put you in danger, too.”

“Stop, Gibson,” Rob said, using my last name like he always did when he was in boss mode. “I'm your editor, not a child. You need to fill me in.”

“My last piece ruffled the wrong feathers.” I tapped my thigh. “Poking the bear brings trouble. This bear has claws.”

“Jesus, Grace. I’m sorry…”

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