Page 14 of Deceiving Grier

“I can help you with the boxes after,” I offered. After all, I felt as though I should do something for him. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so relaxed. Maybe never.

Gripping my shoulder with one hand, the other snaked up the back of my head and tangled in my hair. He tugged, not hard, but with enough strength to pull my head back and force me to meet his gaze.

“What part of you-need-to-relax-more translated to help me clean up my mess?” he asked.

Those deep blue eyes held my gaze, stealing my voice, turning my mouth dry. Absently, I moistened my lips with the tip of my tongue, and Sawyer’s gaze fixed on my mouth.

A shiver rippled through me. He was looking at me as though he wanted to kiss me. And at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to feel Sawyer’s mouth move against mine.

Heat unfurled low in my gut, and something about his fingers twisted in my hair, forcing my head back, the tingle prickling my scalp just shy of painful. The weight of his grip at the base of my neck shot straight to my dick. I could feel myself hardening right there under the other man’s touch.

“I should go,” I said, quickly and jumped to my feet, earning a confused expression from Sawyer.

As I hurried out of his room, I could practically feel his frown burrowing into my back. At least he’d stopped smirking.

Chapter Six

Sawyer

ThesitewhereGrierand Jett’s house had once stood looked a little more than an empty lot. Without knowing what had happened here six weeks ago, the average person probably wouldn’t have guessed there’d been a fire that had burned a house to the ground and nearly cost a man his life.

I stood on the sidewalk, peering past the chain-link fence erected along the property’s perimeter. What remained of the house had been razed and only a loose mound of dirt hinted at where the building had once been. The grass was surprisingly well trimmed—and I attributed that to the property manager… Finn something. Friend and co-worker of Greyson Mackenzie as well as Grier and Jett’s ex-roommate’s boyfriend.

I really did need to speak to that man, but given his closeness to Mackenzie and his connection to Jett and Grier, I would need to tread carefully. I couldn’t afford to give myself away too early.

They had affixed a sign for Mackenzie Property management to the fence. I knew Mackenzie was in the process of having the town change the property’s designation from residential to commercial, as well as seeking permits to build some kind of gallery to showcase local artists.

I doubted the man would face much trouble convincing the town to approve his requests. The property was closer to the businesses in The Square than the other houses and a community, and an art gallery was on brand for the area.

I supposed everyone would just ignore the fact that Grier and Jett’s former roommate, who had almost died in the fire, was an artist studying Fine Art at the university. Not to mention he was dating the man Mackenzie had managing the project.

I didn’t believe Alistair’s connection to the future plans for the site was a coincidence any more than I believed Mackenzie would install a couple of college kids in his father’s beautiful home while charging them almost nothing in rent.

It all had to be some kind of payoff, but for what exactly?

Grier and Jett—well, Jett, since I was fairly certain Grier had been avoiding me after giving him a neck massage in my room the other night—hadn’t so much as hinted that Mackenzie had agreed to rent them the house out of anything more than goodness of his heart no matter how many leading questions I asked.

I slipped my phone out from my jeans pocket and snapped a few photos of the now empty lot.

On a Saturday afternoon, The Square was bustling despite the dreary gray sky overhead and the chilly wind blowing in off the water. Stark reminders that summer was over and autumn was here. The crowds were nowhere near the waves of people that packed the sidewalks during the summer months, but a good showing nevertheless. Standing there while cars drove past and people wandered from shop to shop, I couldn’t imagine that no one had seen anything the night of the fire. Ithadbeen late though, well past midnight. Aside from The Dunes, where Grier and his roommates had been, nothing else had been open.

I’d contacted the police to try and learn more about the investigation, but no one I spoke to would tell me anything more than what I had already read in the press releases the police had issued earlier.

The Fire Department had been slightly more forthcoming. The Deputy Chief had at least gone on record when he’d told me the fire had been intentionally set, which was already old news, but beyond that, he hadn’t shared anything useful.

So far, there were no suspects, no witnesses, and no leads. Not exactly a promising start to my story.

I turned my back on the property in question facing the cafe across the street. If anyone might had seen anything the night of the fire, it would have been the couple who ran the cafe and lived in the apartment above—they’d been the ones who had called 911.

Today would be an ideal time to speak to them. Grier had traveled out of town for a soccer match, so he wasn’t working. He wouldn’t be there to hear my questions or wonder at my interest in his old house and the fire.

Though with the way he’d been ignoring me, I probably wouldn’t have needed to worry.

Ignoremight have been too strong a word.Avoidancebetter described what Grier had been doing for most of the week. He wasn’t a jerk about it or anything, but his absence around the house was noticeable. I’d barely seen him since Monday night, and when we did happen to end up in the same room, after some brief and awkward small talk, he’d make an excuse and hightail it back to his bedroom—back to his schoolwork.

Shit, in the short time I’d known the guy, that was all he seemed to do—school, practice, homework and shifts here at the cafe. He barely slept or ate, from what I’d seen. If he didn’t slow down, he’d have a breakdown before Christmas.

Not your problem, I told myself.

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