Page 14 of Snow Bound

“Fine. Go forth, and be healthy and slutty.”

“You first,” Lola said and hung up.

Anna just shook her head and washed her other leg. “I’m not going to fuck him again,” she told the soap bubbles on her knee. “And that’s final.”

Grant was cold, uncomfortable, and he’d slept like shit.

The cold was due to the fact that his mother kept the vents in the attic bedroom closed to save on the heating bill, and he’d forgotten to open them up before crawling into bed. But the thick quilt was enough to offset the chill, so he might have been moderately comfortable if Henry hadn’t insisted on sleeping with him.

On the one hand, that big, furry body pumped out a lot of heat. But the full sized bed was barely big enough for Grant, and adding the dog meant he’d spent most of the night clinging to the edge of the mattress, trying not to fall off. And he’d still hit the floor twice.

So when the phone rang, jerking him out of the soundest sleep he’d enjoyed all night, he was in no mood to be polite. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Simon replied, and Grant groaned and yanked the covers up over his head.

“I’m not coming back. You told me I could have two weeks, and I’m taking two weeks. Whatever it is, the answer is no.”

“Relax,” Simon said. “I don’t need you back at work.”

“Then why are you calling me at—” Grant uncovered his face to squint at the display on his phone, “—Christ, seven-thirty in the fucking morning on my first day off in six months?”

“Who’s Anna Goodwin?” Simon countered.

Grant rolled to his back, resigned to being awake. He’d worked for Simon for nearly five years, so the fact that he knew about Anna—including her last name, something he didn’t even know—shouldn’t have surprised him. “Jesus, Simon. I know you take intel more seriously than your dick, but did you plant a bug on me or something?”

“First,” Simon said in a dry tone that had a grin tugging at Grant’s lips, “I do not take anything more seriously than my dick. Second, you’re lucky I didn’t call you an hour ago.”

Grant shifted, trying to ease the pressure on his bladder, which was also awake. “Why am I lucky you didn’t call me an hour ago?”

“Because that’s what time my phone rang, with some woman I’ve never heard of on the other end, running a background check on one Grant Alexander Snow.”

Grant’s eyebrows shot up. “Anna ran me?”

“Not her,” Simon corrected. “A lawyer named Lola Wright who claims to be Ms. Goodwin’s best friend.”

“Well, thanks for holding off for an hour, I guess,” Grant said around a yawn, then frowned. “What were you doing in the office so early?”

“I wasn’t in the office,” Simon said, his voice hardening. “She called me on my personal cell.”

Grant let out a low whistle that he knew would make Simon’s teeth clench. “She got your number? That took some skills.”

Simon ignored him. “You want to tell me what happened?”

Henry shifted to lay his massive head on Grant’s belly, making him grunt. “I got to my mom’s last night, and instead of Mom, I found Anna,” he began, and filled him in.

“I have many questions,” Simon said when Grant was finished.

“Get in line,” Grant muttered.

“Where’s your mom?”

“The Canary Islands,” Grant said and yawned again. “She decided she wanted some sun, rented out the house on Air B&B, and jetted off.”

“And you didn’t know this?”

“I haven’t called in a while,” Grant admitted. “Which my mother reminded me of—at some length—when I talked to her last night.”

Simon, who’d met Grace Snow, snickered. “I bet. So Anna’s the renter? That’s a lot of house for one person.”

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