Page 30 of Homecoming

Aiden cupped her ass in his hands. “Any chance Fallon needs another nap?”

“Hm,” Angela murmured, kissing his neck. “Doubt we could get away with that. You can unwrap your package tonight, though, I promise.”

Then she sat up, grinding on his lap. She wore an evil little grin, because she knew what it did to him. Aiden reached beneath her shirt and tweaked her nipples. If he was going to be ramped up for the day, so was she.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said, giving her a look.

“You’d better,” she murmured.

Black frownedas he watched Grunt limp from his office. The chef had been asking him about dessert preferences for Christmas dinner tomorrow night. Was he trying to figure out what Grace would want? He hadn’t really come out and said it that way, but that was kind of what Black was thinking. When he told him to go with whatever he’d had planned, Grunt had scowled and shaken his head sadly.

Grunt was a former Marine, big and rangy, with dark hair and eyes. Henry Southard was his name, but Owen doubted many of the men up here even knew that. He’d been one of the men found in Mexico two years ago, in a desert encampment. When the recovery team brought Henry into the Elton building, he’d been skin and bones, and there had been malformations where the bones of his arms and legs had been broken and allowed to fuse back abnormally to test his healing ability. Itwas obvious they had been broken several times already, even though he was only in his mid twenties. Black couldn’t imagine the amount of pain he’d been in when they’d first found him. He’d grunted when they’d asked his name, and it had stuck.

Even though he said little, Grunt was one of the most important pieces of the Foxhole. The guys loved him and appreciated what he could do in the kitchen. The man had an old soul, as people liked to say, and he had a presence to him that was incredibly comforting. The Spartan program had enhanced that natural empathy, making him one of the most dangerous men on the mountain, because he knew everyone’s secrets. People talked to him when they would talk to no one else. Grunt would respond in his slow, careful way, and their worries or concerns would wash away, because they wereheard. The big man took comforting to a whole new level. And his kitchen was that way as well. It was bigger than a normal household kitchen, warm, but still had a massive island where a lot of them liked to congregate. Men that had been in the Spartan program had been starved, or placed on a ‘special’ diet, which usually meant lower calories to see how the body responded. When Black and the guys had been sent out here to the mountain, he’d promised them that they would always have a good dinner together every night and food available at all times. Grunt helped him do that.

Maybe this was Grunt’s subtle way of giving his approval to have someone new there. That actually made Black happy. If he had Grunt’s approval, the other men would probably follow.

Black heard footsteps outside his door, and Grunt stuck his head back in. “Hey, Cap’n. I need a bag of flour.”

He frowned. “You have flour in the stockroom.” He glanced to the stack of itemized bills he’d logged in just a few hours ago.

“I need cake flour,” Grunt insisted, his dark brow furrowed. “They have it at the general store. Get me ten pounds.”

Black just stared at him.

Grunt shook his head, shifting a little awkwardly into the office. Most of the time he carried a cane, but he’d apparently left it in the kitchen. “I’m giving you a reason to go down and see this woman again. You’ve been sitting at your desk for hours, staring out the window, and I know you’ve been thinking of her. You’ve only been pretending to work.”

Black scowled. “And how do you know that?”

Grunt gave him a chiding look. “You haven’t exactly been guarding your thoughts. That was apparently some kiss yesterday,” he said, grinning slightly.

Black fought not to curse. Had he really been broadcasting? Grunt was especially intuitive, so maybe it hadn’t been that bad. Maybe not everybody that had come in the lodge had picked up on it. At least it was early in the day and most of the guys were out working.

Huffing out a breath, he pushed up from his chair. “Fine. I’ll go get your cake flour.”

Grunt winked at him and disappeared back out the door. Black felt manipulated, but he wasn’t mad about it. Actually, he was excited. Maybe he would bump into Grace.

Before he could second-guess himself, he grabbed his keys and headed for the cold truck.

ELEVEN

Grace was surprised when she heard the front bell ring. Wiping her hands on her apron, she headed toward the front. She’d sent Andy home, worried that she was getting the flu. The girl had been working like crazy getting ready for the wedding scheduled later on this afternoon, but she’d had that vacant look in her eyes that foretold sickness.

Grace blinked when she walked out and found Owen, a dark and imposing storm cloud, standing amongst her beautiful flower displays. “What are you doing here?”

For a split second, her body moved forward to kiss him hello, before she stopped herself. They weren’t there. Yet. That darn kiss had been haunting her, though.

Owen shrugged, snowflakes melting on his dark coat as he took his hat off. “My chef needed cake flour, of all things, for tomorrow night. I drove by and saw your lights were on. Are you open?”

Grace made a face. “Not exactly. I have a young couple getting married in a few hours and my assistant went home sick with some kind of flu bug. I was just putting the finishing touches on their order before I hauled it over to the church.”

“They’re getting married on Christmas Eve?” he asked, one dark brow raised.

She nodded. “Apparently, they met at a Christmas party a few years ago. So, the date is important.”

“Do you need help?”

Grace’s mouth fell open and her brows went up. “You want to help me with the wedding?”

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