Alexa gave a little wave and made her way to her office on the second floor. She probably ought to search out Betsy, Maggie, and Ellen, other lunch friends at work who had agreed to be bridesmaids, to keep them in the loop of wedding goings-on, but she found that she wasn’t as up to it as she wanted to be. There’d be other chances to tell them about her fun weekend and the amazing party favors that’d finally come in and just how gorgeous her dress really was another day this week.
Instead, she dropped into the chair at her desk and threw herself into reviewing the construction punch list from the model home she was decorating. The place was amazing—the kind of home she’d always dreamed of living in. Spacious and light and airy, comfortable and well designed, chic without being stuffy. She’d spent the morning on-site doing a walk-through with the foreman and compiling the list which noted incomplete installations that needed to be corrected and incidental damage that needed to be fixed. Furniture to stage the model would be arriving this Thursday, so she was hoping the guys would work through most of the list before the deliveries began. All of which was leading up to her deadline next Wednesday to have the place ready for Grant’s stamp of approval. That gave her eight days. And today was half gone.
Her gaze slipped to the clock display at the bottom corner of her computer screen. Maybe I should skip class tonight.
She twisted her lips as she debated, and quickly ruled it out. It might only be her one-credit professional development course, but she was already going to miss one class during their honeymoon. And since the class only met once a week, not going would be the equivalent of missing a whole week’s worth of material.
Knock, knock.
Grant stepped into her office wearing an exquisitely cut navy blue suit, his hand behind his back. “Alexa.”
“Oh, hey,” she said, smiling. “I wasn’t sure if you were back yet.” She’d known he had plans this morning to be out of the office inspecting an apartment complex he was considering buying and rehabbing. Alexa got up and came around her desk to him.
“I am, though I have another meeting off-site shortly. But I wanted to catch you before you left for class,” he said. “And I brought you something.” He handed her a single long-stemmed red rose.
The gesture reached right inside her chest. “Aw, Grant. This is so sweet,” she said. It was just the pick-me-up she needed. She grasped the flower and brought the velvety petals to her nose. “Thank you.”
“Anything and everything for you, babe. You know that.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, her jaw, the corner of her lips. And then his mouth came down on hers as his body boxed her in against the desk. Alexa’s gaze strayed to her open office door and she ignored her discomfort over the possibility that someone might see them. It wasn’t like everyone didn’t know they were together, but Alexa still didn’t like to flaunt it in front of their colleagues. It was one of the reasons she still drove herself to work, and definitely why she’d refused a bigger office in the executive suite. What she got here at work, she wanted to have earned. Maybe she’d feel differently after they were married. Or maybe not. Just when she was going to pull away, Grant did instead. “Any chance I can talk you into staying home tonight?” he asked, a mischievous smile on his face.
“I wish. But I don’t want to get behind before we leave on our honeymoon. Then I’m all yours.” She gave him a sweet peck on the cheek. “Thank you again for the rose. You made my day.”
He stepped away and smoothed a hand down over his red silk tie. “Just as well, I suppose. The mayor’s having a reception, and I should probably put in some face time.”
“He’s a good friend to you,” Alexa said. “So go and enjoy. I won’t stay after, though. I’ll come right home.”
“You do that,” Grant said as he stepped to the door and made to leave. Then he peered back in, his smile sexy and playful. “I’ll be waiting.”
Alexa grinned as Grant left, pulling the door shut behind him. He could be so charming, so attentive, so thoughtful—qualities that had attracted her from the beginning. She hadn’t realized how much she needed that side of him today. And it made her want to show him how grateful she was.
Which made her even more eager to have class over with.
But, fine, she’d go. At least now she had something to look forward to when she got home.
TIRED FROM CLASS and from driving home in the pounding rain, Alexa came in through the garage door to the dark kitchen and dumped her purse and messenger bag on the counter. Seeing Grant would make her feel better. Hands free, she flicked on the light.
“Grant? I’m home,” she called. Her gaze snagged on the desk built into one wall of the kitchen because . . . it was totally reorganized. The mail had been sorted by size, shape, and color, the edges of the envelopes lined up exactly parallel to the edge of the desktop. The pins in the corkboard were all in neat rows, sorted by color. Grant did things like that every once in a while, but she’d learned to just take it in stride after asking about it had once caused an argument.
She turned to find Lucy curling her sleek body around the corner of the island, meowing a greeting at her.
“Hi, baby,” Alexa said, crouching to give her little one some love. Sometimes it seemed that Lucy was the most dog-like cat Alexa had ever known. Lucy came when Alexa got home and when she called. She loved to play. Was generous with her affection. And pretty much always wanted to be where Alexa was.
So as Alexa went in search of Grant, Lucy padded behind her. The house felt unusually still. Quiet. The steady drumming of the rain on the roof was the only sound she heard. Grant wasn’t in the living room, nor the media room, nor their bedroom. She knocked on his mostly open office door. “Grant?” she said as she peered into the darkness. His car was in the garage, so he had to be here somewhere. Her heart tripped into a sprint as worry lanced through her.
The chair at his carved mahogany desk sat empty.
Lucy hung back in the hallway as Alexa made her way across the room, turned on the desk lamp, and pulled her cell out of her back pocket.
“Just who is it you’re calling?” came a voice from behind her.
Alexa nearly screamed. She jumped and whirled, her heart in her throat, the phone clutched tight in her hand. “Grant! Oh, my God. You scared me. Are you okay?” She rushed across the room to where he sat in the big wing-back leather chair in the corner. Leaning over him, she cupped his face in her hand. “Why didn’t you answer me?”
He stared down at a tumbler in his hand that Alexa hadn’t noticed he was holding. Bourbon, if she had to guess. A quick glance to the Chippendale table next to the chair revealed a mostly empty bottle. His lips pressed into a tight line and his brow slashed downward. He tilted the glass in his hand as if watching the amber liquid was somehow mesmerizing. When he finally peered up at her, it was as if he’d turned into another man.
Grant’s expression was like a storm descending—dark, twisted, calculating. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” he asked, the words gritty and harsh.
“Find out what?” she asked, her thoughts frozen, her stomach dropping.