not chilly but not exactly warm.
In her attached bathroom, she swirled on some mascara, brushed on some blush, and applied a light coat of red lip gloss.
It was best Chord thought she had a date. The look on his face had been nothing short of astounded when she’d asked for time off yesterday. Today, he hadn’t said two words to her.
The attraction burning between them needed some dousing with a bucket of ice-cold water. Flirting was fine out in the real world, but in the microcosm of household life, it was a very bad idea.
And she did have a date…with Uncle Vernon. If he was having a good day, she’d spring him from senior citizen prison and take him out to dinner.
Grace slipped in her gold dangle earrings—the only thing besides her car that she had of her mother’s. Pretend date night was better than no date night at all.
Now that she had a home base of sorts, maybe she should get out there and meet people. She could date…maybe Devon. He seemed to like her. A social life hadn’t been a priority since high school. Now, she had the time and money to have a little fun. Trouble was, she didn’t want to. If she were being honest, the only person who’d sparked her interest in a very long time was Chord. While he had been an ass when they’d first met, he’d owned up to it. Now, he was lots of fun. Sparring with him made her laugh and look forward to seeing him every morning.
She was woman enough to admit that upon occasion, she’d primped right before he got home. Most of her wanted to believe it was coincidental, but the rest of her wouldn’t let the other half get away with being delusional.
After checking her appearance one more time, she grabbed her purse and headed out of her room. In the kitchen, four angry male faces alternately glared and scowled as she riffled through her purse looking for her car keys.
“Believe it or not, I’m allowed to have fun.” Grace tossed them a look before opening the garage door and stepping into it.
Someone growled, but she couldn’t tell if it was a little boy or a man or Clementine.
Good. She didn’t belong solely to them. She was her own woman. She could do what she wanted. Trouble was, she wanted to march right back in there and see if anyone was up for a game of Monopoly.
***
Chord checked his watch. It was exactly five minutes after he’d heard Grace’s car pull out of the garage. “Boys, get the bag we packed this morning. Our woman is out with an unknown man, and we need to do some recon.”
He had to make sure that Grace was safe. How well did she really know this guy? His mouth curled in a snarl. Hopefully, she didn’t know him that well.
He couldn’t sit around and do nothing. Grace was going out with another man. He needed to see for himself if it was something serious.
Clementine nodded. Cart bounded over to the study for the bag. HW pulled his iPod Touch out of his back pocket and touched the screen. The Mission Impossible theme song blared out.
Chord shot him a look.
“What?” HW hunched his shoulders. “Grace is always telling us music is a great way to express our feelings. Right now, I’m feeling like a spy.”
He had a point.
“Here we go.” Cart waved the black bag with three sets of binoculars, four black ski masks—they didn’t want Clementine to feel left out, walky-talkies, some chips, bottled water, and a flashlight.
“Okay men, operation RECON is a go.” He held open the garage door for them. “Jump in the Suburban, and let’s track her.”
HW picked up his iPod and he and Cart high-tailed it to the car. Clementine moseyed and would have stopped to smell the roses too if there had been any on the way to the car. Chord opened the driver’s side door, Clementine bounded up to the passenger’s seat, the boys climbed in the back seat, and Chord slid behind the wheel. As they backed out of the garage, Clementine nudged the window and barked several times.
“Okay boy, I’ll roll it down.” Chord
In her attached bathroom, she swirled on some mascara, brushed on some blush, and applied a light coat of red lip gloss.
It was best Chord thought she had a date. The look on his face had been nothing short of astounded when she’d asked for time off yesterday. Today, he hadn’t said two words to her.
The attraction burning between them needed some dousing with a bucket of ice-cold water. Flirting was fine out in the real world, but in the microcosm of household life, it was a very bad idea.
And she did have a date…with Uncle Vernon. If he was having a good day, she’d spring him from senior citizen prison and take him out to dinner.
Grace slipped in her gold dangle earrings—the only thing besides her car that she had of her mother’s. Pretend date night was better than no date night at all.
Now that she had a home base of sorts, maybe she should get out there and meet people. She could date…maybe Devon. He seemed to like her. A social life hadn’t been a priority since high school. Now, she had the time and money to have a little fun. Trouble was, she didn’t want to. If she were being honest, the only person who’d sparked her interest in a very long time was Chord. While he had been an ass when they’d first met, he’d owned up to it. Now, he was lots of fun. Sparring with him made her laugh and look forward to seeing him every morning.
She was woman enough to admit that upon occasion, she’d primped right before he got home. Most of her wanted to believe it was coincidental, but the rest of her wouldn’t let the other half get away with being delusional.
After checking her appearance one more time, she grabbed her purse and headed out of her room. In the kitchen, four angry male faces alternately glared and scowled as she riffled through her purse looking for her car keys.
“Believe it or not, I’m allowed to have fun.” Grace tossed them a look before opening the garage door and stepping into it.
Someone growled, but she couldn’t tell if it was a little boy or a man or Clementine.
Good. She didn’t belong solely to them. She was her own woman. She could do what she wanted. Trouble was, she wanted to march right back in there and see if anyone was up for a game of Monopoly.
***
Chord checked his watch. It was exactly five minutes after he’d heard Grace’s car pull out of the garage. “Boys, get the bag we packed this morning. Our woman is out with an unknown man, and we need to do some recon.”
He had to make sure that Grace was safe. How well did she really know this guy? His mouth curled in a snarl. Hopefully, she didn’t know him that well.
He couldn’t sit around and do nothing. Grace was going out with another man. He needed to see for himself if it was something serious.
Clementine nodded. Cart bounded over to the study for the bag. HW pulled his iPod Touch out of his back pocket and touched the screen. The Mission Impossible theme song blared out.
Chord shot him a look.
“What?” HW hunched his shoulders. “Grace is always telling us music is a great way to express our feelings. Right now, I’m feeling like a spy.”
He had a point.
“Here we go.” Cart waved the black bag with three sets of binoculars, four black ski masks—they didn’t want Clementine to feel left out, walky-talkies, some chips, bottled water, and a flashlight.
“Okay men, operation RECON is a go.” He held open the garage door for them. “Jump in the Suburban, and let’s track her.”
HW picked up his iPod and he and Cart high-tailed it to the car. Clementine moseyed and would have stopped to smell the roses too if there had been any on the way to the car. Chord opened the driver’s side door, Clementine bounded up to the passenger’s seat, the boys climbed in the back seat, and Chord slid behind the wheel. As they backed out of the garage, Clementine nudged the window and barked several times.
“Okay boy, I’ll roll it down.” Chord
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