“Oh my God! I can’t believe you said that. That’s what I said! I told Gray that last week. That if more men didn’t abdicate their responsibility, women would be more willing to let them be the head of the house.”
Damon smiled at her, and again, she cursed the fact that Gray dominated her thoughts and desires. Here, again, was a man willing to show her the things she wanted. And again, she would walk away after spending so much time looking for such a man in the first place.
It was enough to make her howl in frustration.
“I need a vacation,” she said. “I need time to figure out what the hell I’m going to do with my life.”
He took her hand in his and rubbed his fingers over her palm. “I have a beach house. I could give you the key. You could spend a few days there, have some time to yourself. No one would bother you.”
She studied him, tempted to take him up on his offer. A few days away at the beach sounded like heaven. And it would prevent her from having to see Gray until she’d fortified herself.
“I’ll have my driver take you down in the Bentley,” he wheedled with a mischievous grin.
She laughed. “Okay, deal. Damon, I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I have an ulterior motive.”
“Oh?”
He grinned. “Yeah, if things don’t work out between you and Gray, I’m hoping you’ll come to me.”
A warm shiver rolled over her arms as his fingers continued to stroke her palm.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. And she was serious. If she gave Damon half a chance, she might find that they were compatible.
“When would you like to leave?” he asked. “Name the time, and I’ll have my driver pick you up.”
She checked her watch. “Honestly, I have no desire to go home just yet, so you’re stuck entertaining me for a while. And if your driver isn’t too tired, he could just run me home later and wait for me to pack a bag. I can always sleep when I get there.”
Damon smiled. “Good, that’s settled. Now, can I get you some more root beer?”
CHAPTER 26
Gray spent a restless night arguing with himself. In the early hours of the morning, he gave up on the idea of sleep and sat in his kitchen nursing a cup of liquid caffeine.
Had he f**ked up any chance he had with Faith? And just when was it that he’d actually started entertaining the idea of a relationship with her anyway? Relationship? He had to be out of his damn mind.
First there was the fact that he was lying to her and using her. She was a means to an end. Then there was the fact that his life, what little he had, was in Dallas. Funny that he hadn’t given much thought to his career since arriving in Houston, but the fact remained he was a damn good cop.
There’s no reason you can’t come clean. Tell her the truth. She’s an intelligent woman. She doesn’t want anything to do with her mother anyway. Quit making excuses. She wants the same thing you do.
When put that way, it seemed perfectly simple. He’d simply tell her the truth about why he was here. Then, with that out of the way, hopefully she’d cooperate. He could investigate Samuels’s involvement in Alex’s death, and then maybe he and Faith could explore the attraction between them.
Attraction. Hell. The word didn’t do justice to this entity between them.
Mick would shit a brick, but he’d have to deal. It wasn’t his ass down here on the line; it was Gray’s. As long as justice was served, it shouldn’t matter one iota to Mick how it came about.
Now that he was finished convincing himself, he was eager to get to work and figure out how he was going to break things to Faith. He honestly didn’t know how she’d react. But he wasn’t willing to take the deception any further. Not when he very much wanted to explore a relationship without any baggage.
There was that damn word again. But if he was honest, he knew he wanted something other than a casual f**k. And the sort of relationship she said she wanted was exactly what he wanted as well, and assumed he’d never find.
He collected his keys and walked out to his truck, feeling lighter than he had in a while. He glanced down to see Faith’s car still parked, which he thought odd, considering she usually beat everyone in to the office. A quick glance at his watch told him he was earlier than usual, though.
He briefly thought about going to her apartment to talk to her, but she was likely getting ready, and he didn’t want to ambush her. He’d just wait until he could get her alone at the office.
When he got to the office, he found Pop and Connor already there. Pop looked up when Gray walked by his office then called out to stop him.
Gray backed up and stuck his head in the door. “What’s up?”
“Faith’s not coming in this morning,” Pop said. “Connor and I are going out on a bid, and Micah and Nathan won’t be in until later. Can you sort the mail and hang around here for a phone call I’m expecting? I have to be back around ten for a conference call with an important client, so I could use the help around the office.”
Gray blinked in surprise. “Faith’s not coming in?”
“Yeah, I know; no one knows where a damn thing is but her,” Pop grumbled. “She’s spoiled us rotten. Gonna be a bitch without her today.”
“Is she okay?” Gray asked, half fearing the answer to that. Had he upset her? That was an asinine question. Of course he’d upset her, but was he why she wasn’t in, or was it something completely unrelated?
Pop shrugged. “Said she wasn’t coming in. She doesn’t call in enough for me to question her the one time she does.”
Gray frowned then said, “Sure, I can get the mail and hang around here. It’s not a problem.”
“Thanks. I’m expecting a call from Sherman Winston. When he calls, patch him through to my cell. I’d originally planned to be here, but this bid came up, and I need to handle it.”
Gray waved and headed on to his office. He guessed Faith had enough of his shitting on her. Not that he could blame her. He had a lot of groveling to do, and that was only if she’d even speak to him after he told her the truth about why he was here.
At nine, the postman carried in a white tub full of mail and heaved it onto Faith’s desk. Gray thanked him then grabbed handfuls of envelopes and began sorting out the obvious checks from the other correspondence.
He was halfway through the pile when he came across an envelope addressed to Faith Martin. He frowned as he took in the scrawled name and address. There was no return address, and it obviously wasn’t from a business.