Saving Grace (Misty Grove Book 2) Read online

  With those biting words, she turned her back on him with determined finality. Matt’s chest cracked with physical pain. It hurt to fucking breathe.

  “Don’t worry, Gracie, I respect you,” Troy said, smirking at Matt as he ushered Grace away from him and led her back to the bar. He wanted to kill the motherfucker.

  What do you expect, asshole? You practically sent her running into another man’s arms.

  Christ, he fucked that up, but exactly what did he fuck up? There was nothing between him and Grace. And after this scene? He had made certain there never, ever would be.

  “You’re just going to let Troy walk out with your girl?” Axe’s censuring voice said from behind him.

  “She was never my girl.”

  “Boss, you know I’m on your side and all, but this time you need to stop with the self-sabotage and open your eyes to what’s right in front of you.”

  “She’s made her choice.”

  “No, you forced her hand,” Axe said. “I’ve never seen you this screwed up over a woman.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  His mechanic shook his head and clapped a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “When you’re ready to pull your head outta your ass, you’ll see things clearly. Come on. I’ll get you another beer.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Matt

  “Get up.”

  Matt blinked open one eye, cursing at the glare of the morning sun streaming from the open blinds. Little men hammering in his head only aggravated this sudden wakeup call. His mouth was cottony and he was damned thirsty. He swore as a face emerged from the starburst of sunshine.

  “What the fuck, Millie!” he groaned. Why the hell did he drink too much last night? No woman was worth the torture of a hangover from hell. Damn Axe for bringing out the bourbon.

  A pillow landed on his crotch. Shit, he forgot he was buck naked. Not that he thought anything would faze the indomitable owner of the diner across the street, but he’d rather be seen nude on his terms.

  “Do you mind?” Matt grumbled, sitting up while holding the pillow across his nether regions.

  Millie raised a brow. “Nothing I haven’t seen before … but if it makes you feel better.” After a dramatic pause, she continued, “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

  Matt waited until she was out of his room before getting out of bed. He grabbed his jeans off the floor and stabbed his legs into them. Walking over to the utility room and opening the dryer, he pulled out a long-sleeved tee. The aroma of coffee and bacon assailed his nostrils. Millie sure knew how to get a person out of bed.

  Making his way to the kitchen, he saw his visitor pouring freshly-brewed coffee into a mug.

  “What brings you to visit my sorry ass this Sunday morning?” he asked. Even if he was annoyed with his rude awakening, he knew Millie wouldn’t show up without reason. A knot of apprehension formed in the pit of his stomach. “Are Cassie and Trent okay?”

  “Don’t worry about them.” Millie waved her hand in a dismissive manner. “As far as I know, they’re enjoying their honeymoon in Fiji.”

  His younger sister and the sheriff of Buckland County tied the knot a week and a half ago. It’d been a small affair of friends and family, but everyone was still on high alert now that their town had become more conspicuous because of the biker war a few months ago.

  “Is it Kate?” A pang of sadness gnawed at him as he worried over his twin. He always worried about her, especially since he didn’t understand the choices she had made. Choices that had hurt a lot of people. At least she showed up for Cassie and Trent’s wedding, although Matt wondered if it would have been better if she’d stayed away.

  “I haven’t heard from Kate since the wedding,” Millie said with a tinge of gloom before her face hardened and she pierced him with shrewd eyes. “No, I’m here because of Grace.”

  Matt tried to look bored. “What about her?”

  “I wish you’d cut the crap, Foster. What happened between you two?”

  “Watch it, Millie. I’m close to telling you it’s none of your business,” Matt replied. “Fuck it. It’s really none of your business.”

  “I see how you look at her.”

  “Oh, you’re an expert now on Matt Foster’s one-night fucks.”

  A flush stole over Millie’s face and it definitely wasn’t from embarrassment over his crude words.

  “That there tells me she’s more than that,” Millie gritted through her teeth. It took a lot to make the other woman angry and Matt seemed to be an expert doing it. “But I’m thinking now if she really deserves better than you.”

  “She really does,” Matt mumbled into his coffee. “Now that we agree, can I eat my breakfast in peace?”

  “Ass,” Millie hissed, shoving the takeout container toward him. “You’re a stubborn ass. I don’t know why I waste my time hoping you’ll grow up.”

  “Thirty-six years old, Millie. I’m as grown up as I’ll ever be.” He flipped open the lid of the container and grabbed a sliver of bacon. Nothing made a hangover better than caffeine and greasy food.

  He ignored the exasperated huff from Millie and concentrated on devouring the eggs and pancakes. Matt could feel the woman’s heavy glare, but he didn’t care about that either. He was who he was. He’d never been in a relationship and he wasn’t about to start. He had a healthy sexual appetite, and he had regular hookups as well as a smattering of one-night stands. Did any of those women push for more? Sure, they did, but he’d also made it clear that sex was all he could offer.

  “What are you afraid of?” Millie pressed. Clearly, she wasn’t letting this go. “We’ve all lost someone we love because of who we are. We’re always going to have enemies. Trent nearly lost Cassie one too many times and yet he held on and look how happy they are now.”

  Matt didn’t point out that it was he who’d put doubt in Cassie’s head about the sheriff. He’d also admit grudgingly that Trent Stone had proven him wrong. The man was calm under pressure and got the smarts to keep up with the town of Misty Grove—a town of ex-assassins.

  “Their situation is different. I’ve made more enemies than anyone in this town.”

  “And you think Grace doesn’t have any of her own?”

  Millie was one of the few people who knew Grace’s real profession.

  “Are you saying we’re two of a kind?” he challenged. “I’m not buying any more trouble for Misty Grove after I brought on the last one. If Grace is on some drug lord’s hit list, she’s on her own.”

  “You don’t really think that. You’re not as heartless as you want people to believe.”

  Matt felt uncomfortable. Millie had a way of seeing right through him. When he’d thought Kate had died, the heartache was so crippling that he started shutting people out to avoid feeling such loss again. For their kind, losing a twin was catastrophic. If the grief wasn’t contained, they could turn into lethal killing machines driven by anger. For Matt, he just turned into an asshole because he found it an effective method of keeping people away. Well, most people anyway. Apparently his rudeness had no effect on persistent nosey former assassins like Millie.

  “You’ve changed a bit, you know,” the diner owner continued. “Ever since we found out Kate was alive, I’ve seen you smile more often.”

  “Now you’re psychoanalyzing,” Matt responded with exasperation. The pancake tasted like cardboard. Great. Now his appetite was ruined and his head throbbed more than ever. His chair scraped back as he tossed the fork on the table. “Are we done here? I appreciate the breakfast, Millie, but if it’s going to come with a side of your bullshit, just save it. Okay?”

  Millie eyed his half-eaten breakfast and smiled enigmatically. “Understood.” With the poise she’d always been known for, the fifty-five-year-old woman glided toward the door. Pausing with her hand on the knob, she pivoted slightly toward him. “By the way, Grace is at the diner with Troy. Looked like they had quite a night and needed some hearty breakfast to … er … refuel.”
>
  Matt’s head nearly exploded.

  *****

  Matt stormed into Millie’s Diner with the force of a tornado drawing every pair of eyes in the restaurant to him. However, he cared only for a set of emerald ones, and they were now trained on him—wide and wary. Good.

  Grace sat at a booth with Troy. Sitting across from them were two beefy bikers one of whom Matt recognized as Cristiano, Troy’s second-in-command. Other men would be intimidated to approach them, but Matt was not other men. No one was keeping him from talking to Grace, especially Troy.

  “Foster.” The biker boss lifted his chin.

  Matt nodded stiffly in response. Just the thought of Troy with his hands on Grace and what else he may have done to her compelled him to eviscerate the man.

  “Grace, I need to talk to you,” Matt stated in an uncompromising tone.

  “I believe the lady made herself clear last night,” Troy pointed out softly, dangerously.

  “Stay out of this, brother,” Matt warned under his breath, not breaking eye contact with Grace. The diner fell silent and the air thickened with tension.

  Matt could feel the man’s glare burning the side of his face.

  “You’re causing a scene,” Grace hissed.

  “You think I give a shit?” Matt snapped, surprised how calm his voice sounded despite the inferno of unnamed emotions firing his blood.

  “Watch it, Foster,” Troy warned. “You think you can take all three of us and we’d give a shit?”

  “I’d like to see you guys try,” Matt countered.

  “Shall I bring out the ruler, guys? Jeez,” Grace huffed and motioned for the biker to scoot over so she could get out.

  Matt felt a small amount of triumph which quickly dissipated when Grace put a placating hand on Troy’s shoulder and the two exchanged meaningful looks.

  It sickened him.

  When she was free of the booth, Matt immediately grabbed her hand and dragged her into Millie’s office.

  “This better be good,” Grace muttered, yanking her hand out of his and stomping into the room ahead of him. She leaned against Millie’s desk, facing Matt, arms crossed over her chest, pushing up her breasts. He got momentarily distracted. “My face is up here, Foster.”

  Matt smirked, hardly repentant for eating her up with his eyes. He shut the door to the office and twisted the lock.

  Grace visibly swallowed. “Why did you lock the door?”

  “For privacy.”

  “Privacy for what? Say what you have to say so I can get back to breakfast. I’m starving.”

  His nostrils flared as he tried to control his temper. “Did you fuck him?”

  “Here’s where I say”—Grace straightened from the desk, getting on tiptoes which amused him because he still towered over her—“It’s none of your damned business. And I can’t believe you’d spout such an alpha-male cliché line.”

  He burned for an answer to his question, but it was time to change tactics. “I was out of line last night. I’m sorry.”

  She stepped back, taken off-guard. “You’re apologizing? Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why are you apologizing? What do you want?”

  “Honestly. I don’t know,” Matt admitted. He didn’t like the way things ended last night. Somehow, he had to know they would be okay, even as friends. With benefits, of course. First, he had to know about Troy. But deep down, he knew it didn’t matter. He’d erase that man out of her system by fucking the shit out of her. “Can I see you tonight?”

  “Look, Matt. I accept your apology, but …” her eyes darted to the side, avoiding his. “I’m with Troy.”

  A surge of fury blinded all reason as something snapped inside him. Before he could second guess his actions, he crowded her against the desk, planting each hand on either side of her, caging her in.

  “What the—? Stand the hell back.” Her attempts to push against him might as well have been an ant pushing a boulder.

  “Do you scream his name when he fucks you, Grace?” Matt snarled against her lips. “Don’t roll your eyes at me!” He pressed the growing bulge in his jeans against her hips. This woman aroused and infuriated him at the same time. “Do you?”

  “Enough with this possessive bullshit. You have no right!” Grace whisper-yelled. “You walked out on me, remember?”

  “And you walked right into another man’s bed.”

  “Am I stopping you from fucking another woman? Clearly, we have no rights on each other. We were a one-night stand. You made sure of that.”

  “I’ve changed my mind.”

  “Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but that’s not how it works. You don’t dictate when you’re on or off. I’ve had enough of your mixed signals.”

  “Answer the question.” He lowered his voice at the same time his hand snaked under her skirt, cupping the heat between her legs. The smoldering in her eyes was not from anger. She was aroused despite the fury in her words.

  Grace inhaled sharply. “Matt, stop.”

  That inhale right then confirmed his suspicions.

  “Does he make you come like I do?” he rasped against her ear, pressing his advantage. He tugged her tights halfway down and circled her sensitive flesh with his fingers. “Wet.” He sunk one finger in as she convulsed against him, relishing the moist heat that coated his finger. “And so responsive.”

  “Oh, God!” Her controlled moan belied the death grip she had on his leather jacket. He thrust a second finger, groaning as he remembered how her tight silky cunt had sheathed his cock the other night.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked in a pained whisper. Even in her state of arousal, she continued to fight him. Stubborn woman. Whatever. He knew how to bend her body to his will.

  “Imagine my mouth fucking you, babe.” His thumb kept pressure on her clit as he pumped his fingers inside her. “Remember how hungry you were for my cock. I was already buried so deep and yet you asked me to fuck you harder.” He grazed her chin with his teeth, satisfied when her body shuddered in response. “I own this.” He withdrew his fingers and cupped her pussy.

  Her glazed green eyes glared at him.

  “What’s the matter, babe? You were expecting to finish?”

  “You’re an ass,” she hissed even as she shamelessly rubbed her pussy against the heel of his hand. His greedy firebrand.

  “Ah-ah,” Matt admonished with amusement. “You will not self-satisfy.” Yep, he was in control of this. He wanted to punish her for making him feel like killing another man for fucking her.

  He was going to finish her off by eating her out.

  He grabbed her hips and lifted her on the desk, ignoring her gasp of outrage as he shoved up her skirt. She tried to kick him. He laughed as he caught her leg and yanked her forward causing her to fall back across the table.

  “Are you crazy?” she shrieked.

  She made him crazy. He pulled the switchblade he kept in his jacket’s secret pocket.

  “Matt?” There was fear in her voice.

  “Never be afraid of me,” he muttered as he sliced through the crotch of her tights.

  “You are crazy.”

  “Crazy for your taste,” he murmured before burying his face between her legs. He groaned as her wet hit his tongue. The smell of her arousal placated the jealous beast raging inside him.

  Jealous?

  Yes, he was. Matt would analyze what that meant later. Right then he was busy making her come for him. Her moans and whimpers were his. His tongue swirled relentlessly on her clit as he pushed two fingers inside her. Her entire body quaked. It would give him the satisfaction to have Troy hear her screams of pleasure, but he also knew she’d be embarrassed if the entire diner heard her.

  “Oh, God, oh, …hmph.” Matt covered her mouth with his other hand, effectively muffling her cries just as her orgasm shook her. He withdrew his fingers from her pussy and worked his mouth against her swollen clit—pulling, sucking, and prolonging her pleasure.

 
There was a rap on the door and a rattling of the knob.

  “Matt?”

  Fuck. Millie.

  “We’re almost done,” he called out.

  “You better not be doing what I think you’re doing in there.”

  “What do we do?” Grace whispered in a panic, dislodging her legs from around his shoulders so fast, the heel of her boot hit his head.

  “Fuck!”

  “You destroyed my tights!” she accused, tugging off her boots to remove the shorn pieces of nylon.

  “Matt?” Millie repeated, this time with censure in her voice.

  “Five minutes!” he yelled.

  “You guys have three.”

  Matt puffed a sigh of relief when he heard the diner owner walk away.

  “Sorry about that,” he told Grace sheepishly. “Do you need to use the ladies’ room? I’ll wait for you at the diner.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her flaming ear. Cute.

  “This doesn’t change anything,” Grace mumbled, avoiding his eyes and instead, focused her attention on fidgeting with her torn tights.

  Wait. What?

  “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you return to Troy,” Matt growled, taking the ruined nylons from her and pocketing them. “Look at me, Grace.”

  “I told you. I’m with Troy.”

  “Since when?”

  “Does when even matter, Matt?”

  “You’re picking him over me,” he stated flatly.

  “There was no picking one over the other and you know it. Were you even a choice until Troy showed his interest?” Grace’s eyes were hard. At his continued silence, she shrugged. “I didn’t think so.”

  He wasn’t about to beg. It wasn’t like that between them. They fucked once—fooled around once. She was nothing more than a good lay for him as he was to her. Matt strode to the door, but he simply couldn’t walk out without one final attempt. Staring at the door with his hand on the knob, he said, “I’ll be at the garage all day. I’ll be waiting for you to come to me.” He turned his head slightly to the side. “I hope you do.”