Goodbye Secrets (The Lost & Found Series book #2) (21 page)

“Do you have any Advil? My head is pounding.” I opened his medicine cabinet behind the mirror.

“You don’t remember anything from last night, babe?” he asked. I grabbed the Advil and closed the cabinet. “Here, I’ll open it,” he offered. I turned to him and was met with his nicely toned bare chest. I gasped, not expecting that, of course. Cue the goofy grin. “Touch it. It’s real.” He put my hand on his chest.

“Shut up!” I smacked him. He laughed.

“So?” he prompted.

“Last thing I remember is sitting on the couch at the bar. You said I was beautiful.” I sighed.

“You are beautiful, and I have a confession.” He kissed me again.

“What?” I pulled away.

“We kissed ... a lot. And I, um ... touched you ... a lot.”

“Where?” My eyes widened and my heart raced as mortification came over me.

“Just here.” He lightly tweaked my nipples.

“Stop!” I smacked his hand.

“And your butt. That’s it. You passed out, and I did too. Are you mad?” He touched my chin to lift my face.

“What do you think?” I was terse.

“Hey, we were both drunk!”

“Yeah, but Jesus, Ray, I’m raw there!” I bit my lip then looked away, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

“I may have bitten them a little.” He winced and held his hand up, almost pinching his forefinger and thumb together. I was so irritated; I just walked out of the bathroom and grabbed my shoes.

“I’ll wait for you downstairs,” I said. When he met me, he was more like his usual self. No more advances or sexual banter.

“Grayson?” I look over at him, my eyes filling up again.

“Hmm,” is all he can manage.

“Why did I block this all out? This is making me nervous. I feel like I’ve gone crazy.”

“Shh, love, c’mere.” He pulls me to him. “Fucking bastard! He definitely slipped something into your drink,” he says angrily.

“How could he do that to me? That’s so unlike him.”

“Becca, unfortunately, there’s a lot about Ray that you don’t know, love.” He sighs.

“What, Grayson? Please tell me what you know. Please,” I beg.

GRAYSON

“Okay, Becca. I’ll tell you, but I’m nervous to do so.” I’m not sure if I should do this, especially now that she’s learned what he is capable of. But that’s also why she needs to know.

“Why are you nervous?” She looks up at me.

“Well, I just don’t want you to get caught up in the heat of the moment and blurt out the information we have out.”

I wait for her to get mad at me. She opens her mouth, but then closes it again, waiting to listen.

“Here goes nothing.” I sigh. “Ray was a military man as well. At one time, his unit was stationed at the same place as George’s. We’re pretty sure he got to know George then. We’re also pretty sure he found out George was alive, and then went to see him to make him an offer he couldn’t refuse. Ray had moved a lot of things around and liquidated one million dollars of his assets. First, five hundred thousand about a month before your kidnapping, then the rest the same week you were kidnapped. We think he was paying George to kidnap you, but not harm you. He just wasn’t planning on me or you seeing George at the inn. He wasn’t planning on the security team. He didn’t walk you to your truck because he knew George was there. We think his plan was to ‘find’ you and protect you. The end result would be you seeing the light and finally being with him. This is all theory, of course. We have no idea where the cash went. There’s another person involved, but we haven’t figured that out. It’s not Stacey. Ray brought Stacey in when our arrangement started. We have the phone records, and records of their texts. You okay, sweetheart?” I just realized I haven’t stopped talking.

“Yes, I’m okay. Keep going, please.” She glances up.

“Well, we’re really at a dead end. The only other info we have is that Will has slowly been depositing an extra nine to ten thousand dollars in cash a week into his accounts. It’s a bit of a red flag. That’s a lot of money for a mediocre dance studio in Ashland, New Hampshire. I believe Ray when he talks about Will. He truly despises him. From the info we’ve gotten around town, Will is not a big fan of Ray’s. I guess Ray has threatened Will a time or two over your honor.” I rub my face. This whole thing is crazy. It’s all sitting right in front of us, and we can’t seem to get all the dots connected.

“Well, that’s Ray, I know he’s done that. I’ve talked to him about it before.” She says this almost as if she’s forgotten—then her mouth slowly falls into a frown and her nose flares. I can see she’s trying to fight back tears. “Baby,” she almost whispers.

“Yes, love.” I pull her face up to mine.

“Thank you for not yelling at me or breaking up with me. Thank you for being kind and understanding.” She kisses me.

“Well, I was about to call the office phone and tell you I was going to spank you every time he called you
baby
or
babe
. I refrained, though, and didn’t barge in, because I honestly felt my heart breaking for him. I thought to myself,
Better keep your mouth shut, Gracie, or you’ll be worse off than this poor bloke!
But when I heard him basically admit what he had done, I couldn’t get to you fast enough.” I hold her to me tightly and kiss her head.

“You have my office bugged?” She pulls her head back.

“Oh, sweetheart, c’mon. You know my stalkerish tendencies know no bounds!” I chuckle. Just then, there is a knock on our door. “Entrée!” I shout. Morgan and Annie run in.

“Daddy, where’s Mum? We want to bake!”

BECCA

Annie stops in her tracks when she sees me in Grayson’s arms.

“Okay. I’m coming! We have so much to do! Annie, I’m glad you’re here—we’re gonna need all the help we can get!” I smile and stand up. “Hey, do you want to talk about what happened at school?” I whisper in her ear when I approach her.

“No.” She looks down, her voice sad.

“Do you need something for your belly?” I ask. She nods. “Okay. Come with me and we’ll get you something in the bathroom.” I put my arm around her shoulders and lead her in there.

“Becca?” Her voice is so quiet.

“Yeah, sweetie?” I pull her hair back into a tie.

“Why don’t you love my daddy anymore? He loves you so much. He wants to marry you. He tells me all of the time.” She starts crying.

“Oh, Annie, please don’t cry! I’ll always love you and your daddy, but I love Grayson and I want to marry him.” How am I to explain this to her?

“But you are our family. I wanted you to be my mom,” she continues. My heart breaks.

“Annie, you are my family, and I will always only be a phone call away. I love you, Annie, as if you were my daughter—nothing will ever change that.” I hug her and kiss her face. “Now, Miss Annie, its Christmastime and I need your help! We have so much stuff to make! Are you ready to turn that frown upside down?” I tickle her and she nods. We head out of the bathroom and collect Morgan and Gray, then head downstairs to find some of the security team bringing in fresh evergreen wreaths, garland, and branches. Grayson walks over to help. He brings some of it up to his nose and inhales deeply. He seems to get lost in a memory.

“Hey.” I rub his back.

“Hi.” He smiles. “I love this smell.”

“Me, too. Do you want to start decorating out here, or do you want to bake with us?”

“Would you mind if I gave the decorating a go?” He holds the garland and looks around.

“Sure, baby, I’ll be in the kitchen. Gray?”

“Yes, love?” He glances down at me.

“I love you and I’m so happy to have you in my life. It’s going to be a wonderful Christmas.” I lean up for a kiss.

“I love you, Becca,” he says quietly as he leans his forehead against mine.

“Get to work, Mr. James.” I tap his bottom.

“Oh ... Mrs. James.” He shakes his head and bites his smile back. I pull his lip free from his teeth and give him a quick peck before I join the girls in the kitchen.

All three KitchenAid mixers are lined up and ready to go. There’s about ten pounds of butter on the counter coming to room temperature. Large sacks of flour and white and brown sugars wait on the floor to be opened. Ovens are preheating and Christmas music is dancing around in the air.

“Aprons on, ladies! Let’s get crackin’!” I grab mine.

“Shortbread first, Bec?” Hazel grabs the butter.

“Yes, they will take the longest. I think five batches will do ... that will give us twenty dozen. Is the butter softened?”

“Yep, we’re ready for liftoff!” Hazel smiles.

I get the girls started on the brown sugar—one cup in each mixer, followed by the butter and flour. We knead the dough for a good five minutes, then roll it to half an inch in thickness. We cut it into three-inch-by-one-inch strips and place them on the baking sheets one inch apart. The girls prick them each several times with a fork. I didn’t plan on having a remodeled, gourmet-restaurant kitchen, but am so glad for it now, especially with all of this extra food I have to make. This shortbread would’ve taken me a few hours in my old kitchen, but now I’m able to bake ten sheets all at once! It will only take me an hour. We move on to making some of our traditional cookies and breads.

Ah ... the smell of shortbread fills the kitchen. Karen Carpenter is singing, “Merry Christmas, darling ... Happy New Year, too ...” I feel tears in my eyes. There’s something about Christmas—it’s bittersweet! I clean the counter off and get ready to make peanut-butter balls.

The girls move in sync with each other—they’re a great team. Annie looks so happy. She always is when she’s here with Morgan and I and we’re doing “mother/daughter things,” as she likes to call them. Morgan just calls them boring and annoying. It’s funny—we always yearn to do and experience the things we don’t have, even something as simple as helping your mom with the dishes. Annie always begs to dry when I wash. I think she likes to pretend that I’m her mom and this is her chore.
Oh, my Annie ...

“Annie?” I grab her hand to pull her away from the mixer.

“Yes, Mom ... er, Becca,” she corrects herself. My heart twinges.

“Thank you for helping us. You’re doing a great job, and I just wanted to tell you that I’m very proud of you and I love you very much, sweetie.” I kiss her face and hug her. She holds me longer than a ten-year-old normally would.

“I wish you were my mom.” She gives me a half smile, half frown. Her eyes begin to fill up.

“Well, Annie, I love you like I am. I will always love you and be proud of you as a daughter, no matter where I am or where you are. Do you understand me?” I wipe her tears away. She nods and hugs me again. I look over at Morgan, who is watching us. She smiles at me. I’m thankful that she’s a lot like me. Any other ten-year-old may get jealous if their mother was this way with their best friend.
I love you
, I mouth to Morgan—just in case. She blows me a kiss to reassure me, I guess. God, I love that kid!

“Well, I don’t think any of my recipes call for tears, so we better dry our eyes, young lady, and get back to work!”

“Okay.” She smiles and heads back over to Morgan. Hazel and I start pulling the first ten trays of shortbread out of the oven and move them to the rolling rack to cool off.

“Sweetheart!” Grayson calls as he walks through the door. He stops dead in his tracks. “What’s that?” He points to the Scottish shortbread and inhales the aroma.

“Scottish shortbread, baby,” I say quietly, unable to read his expression.

“My mother’s recipe?”

I nod, still unsure.

“Fresh evergreens ... today’s the twenty-second?” he asks.

“Yes. Um, I don’t have any of your ornaments from home, but I thought we could still hang the ones we have.” I swallow hard. Why can’t I read him?

“Auntie, please take the girls out of the kitchen for a moment.” He looks at Hazel. I nervously find myself backing toward the wall near the fridge. Why does he want them out of here?

“Gracie?” Hazel looks bewildered. I don’t think she can read him, either.

“Please, Auntie, now!” He’s sterner.

“Come with me, girls.” She extends her arms to them, but glances back at Grayson as she walks them out of the kitchen. When the door swings shut, Grayson brings his attention back to me. His nose flares and his jawline twitches like mad. Even his eyes seem to be filling up. My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it, along with “Up On the Rooftop,” loudly in my ears.
Did someone turn up the radio?
Grayson strides toward me quickly, and I find myself trying to back up—unsuccessfully, as I already have my back against the wall.

My space is invaded by the intoxicating smell of Grayson James, sprinkled with a hint of shortbread. I know for a fact—they both taste delicious.

“Are you mad at me?” I stare straight ahead at his shirt and pull a little fuzz off of it. Maybe I shouldn’t have done this. Maybe it’s too hard for him.

“Mad?” He grasps my ponytail and pulls gently, making me look up at him. His left hand palms my cheek. “I’m mad with love for you.” His lips caress mine, beckoning them to open so he can deepen the kiss. I relax and welcome the invasion, and we lose ourselves. “Becca ... God, I’m so overwhelmed by my love for you. My days are so much better with you in them.” He leans his forehead against mine.