And…he laughed. The laughter spilled out of him and it was real. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed like that. Laughed and slept easily and woken up to chocolate muffins.
Woken up to an angel like Jemma.
She was still smiling at him. His chest ached as he stared at her and slowly, his laughter faded.
He couldn’t look away from her. Couldn’t stop staring into her eyes and as he gazed at her—Oh, hell, I am in trouble. The worst kind of trouble possible.
“Jemma…” Her name broke from him as a growl.
She stepped toward him and he saw the flash of need on her face. This connection—this wild desire—they both felt it. Unnatural, too strong—yeah, yeah, he got all of that. And he didn’t care. I want Jemma. Right there on her fucking kitchen table. Right—
Someone was pounding at the door. No. Absolutely not. No. His fingers were already up and he was ready to touch her skin. To kiss her.
But Jemma slipped around him and hurried to the door.
“Jemma, wait!”
He got to the door seconds behind her. He peeked out her window and saw the sheriff’s car waiting outside. Brad—there that early?
Jemma had peeked out and seen Brad, too. She turned off her alarm and opened her door. Brad stood there, looking tired and grim. “Found the truck,” he said. His gaze darted between Jemma and Grayson and the slight tightening of his mouth told Grayson the guy didn’t like what he saw. Too bad.
“Where was it? Who took it?” Jemma asked.
“As to where…it was sent off the side of the mountain, about fifteen miles away. Twisted chunks of metal—that’s all that’s left of it now.”
Jemma backed up and her shoulder pushed into Grayson’s chest. “The driver—was he killed?”
“No driver was found at the scene. Got a crew out searching, but it doesn’t look like a body is down there.”
Grayson’s jaw clenched. “So someone sent that truck crashing down?” It certainly would have been easy enough to do. Hell, he’d even used a strategy like that a time or two in the field. When he needed to ditch a ride and he didn’t want anyone finding any evidence left behind—a fast crash. A fiery wreck to destroy evidence. And he’d walked away clean.
“Appears that way,” Brad said. “Wanted you two to know. And since I was already close by and I know that Jemma always gets up early for the chocolate shop…” He tipped his hat at them. “Figured I’d deliver the news in person.”
It wasn’t news that Grayson liked. In fact, it made him worry even more.
It’s not like you can stop being a spy.
No, he couldn’t.
Did you bring trouble with you to my town? Brad’s question whispered through Grayson’s mind. He’d thought he was safe before, but right then, Grayson wasn’t so sure.
***
Grayson Cole had spent the night with the woman. And when he’d answered the door to the local sheriff, the guy had been half-dressed.
He’s definitely involved with her. Was the woman the reason that Grayson rushed to Holly, North Carolina? If so, then she was a very, very powerful weapon to be used in his battle.
He stayed in the woods, watching his prey. The area was such a perfect hunting ground. So many trees. Thick bushes. Winding roads. It made things so much easier for him.
Grayson walked the sheriff back to his car. He slapped a hand on the guy’s shoulder. They talked some more, and then, when the sheriff drove away, Grayson hesitated. His stare swept over the area.
You can’t see me. I’m hidden too well.
You taught me all the tricks, Grayson.
Grayson strode back toward the house. He caught the woman’s hand. Brought it to his lips. Kissed her knuckles quickly.
Gently? Since when was Grayson Cole ever gentle with anyone?
That’s not the way you act with a one-night stand.
Grayson shut the door.
And the watcher smiled. Christmas was coming, and this year, he was going to get exactly what he wanted. Grayson’s pain. His suffering. His death.
My revenge.
And the woman—that pretty little chocolate shop owner—she was going to be the perfect instrument of his vengeance.
***
Grayson was waiting for her when she got off work. Actually, he came into her shop just before closing time. The bell jingled over her door and when she looked up, he was there.
Light snowflakes had fallen onto his dark hair, and they lined the top of his coat. As she stared at him, he smiled at her. A slow grin that warmed every single inch of her.
“I’m just finishing up.” Storing her items. Cleaning up. Getting things ready for tomorrow. “Give me just a second.” Because they had a date, didn’t they? She hoped so, because she’d been thinking about it all day. Planning.
Well, she’d been planning when she hadn’t been obsessing about Matthew’s truck and her strange late-night visitor. So perhaps she’d been a bit nervous. Who wouldn’t be?
Grayson stepped fully into her little shop. He inhaled. “This place smells so insanely good.” He kept walking, coming behind the counter and right up to her.
Her breath caught in her throat.
“Sweet chocolate,” he murmured. “The perfect sin.”