Page 15 of Deceiving Grier

Still, I didn’t like watching Grier run himself into the ground, and me having the urge to drag him out of his bedroom and make him eat something and get some sleep was more than a little disconcerting on so many levels.

The night he’d knocked on my door to bitch about the boxes, I was caught off guard by how rough he’d looked. Normally, he was the image of male perfection, clean-cut and neatly dressed. But that night, his clothes were rumpled, hair a mess, sticking up as if he’d been running his fingers through it over and over. Dark smudges bruised the pale skin under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept for days or he was unwell.

However, sitting him down on the floor in front of me and putting my hands on him to ease the tension in his shoulders and neck might have been something of a miscalculation. The feel of his lean muscles under my hands as I slipped them down his back, combined with his soft gasps and sighs, had certainly alerted my dick’s attention.

It had taken everything I had not to rip off his t-shirt so I could let my fingers explore his taut flesh and relish the heat of his skin searing my fingertips. And I would have been a liar if I denied that having him on the floor at my feet hadn’t done something for me. When I’d tugged his head back, fingers tangled in his silky hair, the green of his irises nearly vanished from his blown pupils, and his tongue peeking out to moisten his lips, it took everything I had not to kiss him, not to let my mouth close over his and finally find out how he tasted.

And god damn! If he hadn’t been looking at me, gaze flicking to my mouth as though he was thinking the same thing.

Christ, I was half-hard just thinking about it. It was probably a good thing he was avoiding me. After all, I couldn’t afford to cross any lines there. Not only did we have to live under the same roof, but I would also eventually want him to talk to me, to go on the record for my story.

Messing around Grier Miller would undoubtedly be a huge mistake that should be avoided at all costs.

I jammed my hands into my jacket pockets and hurried across the street before pulling open the cafe’s door and going inside.

Warm air heavy with the smells of coffee and baked goods closed around me, chasing away a little of the chill from standing outside for so long. The cafe wasn’t busy so late in the day. Two older men sitting by the window chatting companionably while drinking their coffee, and three students, each with open laptops at a table near the door.

At the counter, I ordered a coffee from a woman with long braids tied back at the base of her neck.

“I heard there are plans to build some kind of art gallery over there.” I nodded at the window facing the lot, pretending idle small talk.

“I heard that too,” she said over her shoulder while she poured my coffee. “I hope it happens. It’ll be great for the community.”

“Did you see the fire?” I asked. Not exactly the careful steering I’d planned for the conversation, but since I couldn’t figure out how to bring it up casually, I opted for blurting it out instead.

She nodded, her eyes narrowing and her expression closing. “Kind of hard to miss, living so close.”

I’d made her suspicious. I probably appeared too interested.

“I live with the guys who used to live there,” I offered.

Her expression brightened like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. She grinned and set my coffee on the counter. “Oh, you must be Sawyer.”

I frowned, and my face heated. Had Grier talked about me to his co-workers?

“I’m not sure what Grier told you about me,” I said, flashing my most charming smile. “But I promise I’m nicer than he said.”

She laughed and rang up my order. “Grier likes you… now that you finally took care of those boxes.”

I snorted, refusing to acknowledge the weird flutter low inside me at the woman’s words. “Those damn boxes again.”

“I’m Lana, by the way,” she said, as I paid for the coffee.

“It’s nice meeting you.” I slid my wallet back into the back pocket of my jeans.

“Why do you want to know about the fire?” Lana asked, her smile dimming.

“When I walked past the lot, I thought it was strange that no one saw anything. I mean, I know it was late at night, but the house was on the corner of a busy intersection, and the fire had started around the front of the house.”

“It was late,” Lana said. “Bailey, my partner, and I were already in bed when we noticed a light flickering outside. When we looked, the whole front porch was already completely engulfed. I called 911 while Bailey ran down to The Dunes to find the guys.”

“No one tried calling them first?”

“The Dunes on a Friday night? I doubt any of them would have been able to hear their phones. Besides, the bar’s just down the street. It seemed faster to just go get them.”

“They were lucky they were all out.”

“Theywerelucky,” Lana agreed. “But they really pushed their luck when Alistair ran into the fire to get their damn cat—not that I don’t get it. Still, he scared thehellout of all of us.”

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