Page 17 of Claiming Jane

“What dreams? You haven’t told me anything about this.”

I roll over on the bed and run my finger along the bedspread. “Actually, I have told you. I mean, sort of.”

He swears. “I promise you, Jane, if you told me, I don’t remember, and I really think that’s something I’d remember.”

“I wrote to you.”

He’s quiet for just a minute. “You did write to me, and I read every letter multiple times, but you never talked anything about our future or what you wanted in those letters.”

I cover my face with my hand. I can do this. Not only can I do this, but I need to do it. “I never sent them to you. I wrote them to you and kept them in a diary. Everything I was thinking is in that book.”

“Where is it?”

“I put it in a box under your bed.”

I can hear him get up from the squeaky chairs and then hear him stomping through the house toward his bedroom. There’s a bunch of shuffling, and I know he’s on his knees under his bed. I can imagine him picking it up and setting it on the bed. “I think if you read some of that, you’ll understand what you mean to me, Grant.”

“Thank you for this. I don’t know what to say.”

I completely bared my heart on those pages, and I hope the words make him happy. “Okay, well, I know your therapist will be calling soon. I’ll let you go.”

“Thank you, Jane.”

Softly, I whisper into the phone, “You’re welcome.”

There’s so much more I want to say to him, but I leave it at that.

We hang up, and I’m restless, so I jump out of bed to pace around the room. Grant could be reading my letters right now, and I’m part excited and part terrified. I have to keep reminding myself that it will all work out. It has to.

CHAPTER 10

GRANT

I’m about to open the book of letters when my phone rings. I’m expecting it to be my therapist and am surprised to see my old buddy Griffin Baine on the line. We’ve been on a few tours together, and he medically retired a few years back.

I force the cheerfulness into my voice. There’s no reason for everyone to know I’m literally falling apart right now. “Griffin! What’s up, brother?”

“My man. How’s it going, Grant? I heard you retired and thought I’d call you up to see what you’re into.”

I hold Jane’s book to my chest and sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ve been back less than a week, and I’m just trying to get used to civilian life. You know how it is.”

Griffin grunts into the phone. “Hell yeah, I know how it is. It was rough, man, but like you said, you’ve been home less than a week. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“Yeah, I know, I know, you’re right.”

“So you got a job lined up? I could get you on here with some security detail. We could use a sharpshooter like you.”

I lean my head back and stare at the ceiling. There’s a part of me that wonders if Jane wouldn’t be better off with me across the US instead of here in her house. She says she’s in it for the long haul, the good and the bad, but I can’t help but wonder how bad it’s going to get. “Can I think about it?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel guilty. It’s almost as if I’m betraying Jane by even thinking about this.

“Sure, no problem. Let me know, and I can put you in touch with the boss.”

“Sounds good. How about you? Any good cases lately?”

Griffin is a security guard for celebrities and high profile people and usually can’t talk about who he’s working with, but it never stops me from asking.

“You know I can’t talk about it.”

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