worked. He reached over and grabbed up a can of baby peas. “Um, actually I was waiting for you to choose one so I could grab these.”
She looked down at the can, her eyes nervously scanning her surroundings. When he noticed her shoulders drop and her eyes closed on a sigh, he knew his efforts had been a success. She reached out , her hand trembling so slightly he wouldn’t have noticed if he was anyone else but who he was. She took the green beans from his hand and politely thanked him for his help.
After she gingerly placed the can in her cart he calmly reached out and offered his hand. “ Grant Kendal,” he smiled, making sure it reached his eyes. Everything about him had been chosen by design to make her feel comfortable with him. From his name to his conservative yet relaxed haircut, even his nondescript, brown eyes and common aftershave had been carefully researched and pieced together to give him all the trust he needed to manipulate her in a hundred different ways and keep her where he wanted her. If all went according to plan he wouldn’t need her to trust him. Wouldn’t need to get that close. But in his experience, very few things ever went exactly as planned and he had to cover all his bases on this one. When she took his offered hand in hers and gave it a firm shake, then looked him in the eyes, he’d felt only half convinced it had worked.
“Claira Robbins,” she smiled confidently.
She looked different than the photos he’d seen of her, dressed differently, too. When he’d first arrived in town and began putting his plan into action, he had to study her carefully before he was convinced he’d found his mark. By all accounts she was the mousy, conflicted creature that others believed her to be, until that handshake. In his line of work, he found that few people ever made eye contact, even when they shook hands. Now, the sudden confidence in her eyes and body language was surprising, betraying his own confidence in his preparations. The sloppy bastard that wanted her seemed completely clueless of her true nature, something that didn’t surprise him at all.
Chapter Eleven
Claira closed her eyes and censured herself for allowing the familiar panicked-laced reaction to a common stranger rob her of her hard won peace. She was not that woman anymore. If she was going to live a normal life, the life she fought constantly to remind herself she deserved, then she had to start acting like a normal person; even when meeting a nice, somewhat plainly hansom stranger that had clearly just been trying to help her. Wasn’t that what normal people in small towns did? Help other normal people?
Relaxing her tensed, defensive posture, she met his warm brown eyes and couldn’t help but smile. She could do this. They chatted amiably for a few minutes, where she learned that he, too, was fairly new in town. He’d been staying with his grandmother in Dillon, a small town about a hundred miles west of Billings, until she had passed away a month ago. The tight strain in his voice when he spoke of her had Claira relaxing her guard a little more. He was a nice guy, looking for a fresh start, something she could relate to.
Moments later they said goodbye and he waved her down the aisle as he headed for one of the cashier lines with his can of baby peas. Claira forced herself to feel happy about the exchange. It had been a big step for her, but the new found freedom of talking freely with someone she didn’t know still felt strange to her.
Keys in hand, she paused at the trunk of her car as an even more bizarre thought occurred to her. Spending time with Mason, Matt and even their family hadn’t seemed awkward. Not in the way talking to Grant had been. Sure, she’d been nervous, but for some reason she had never doubted their sincerity and hadn’t once considered herself in danger around them. Ok, so not the sort of danger she’d become accustom to, anyway. If you counted their ruggedly handsome faces, their
She looked down at the can, her eyes nervously scanning her surroundings. When he noticed her shoulders drop and her eyes closed on a sigh, he knew his efforts had been a success. She reached out , her hand trembling so slightly he wouldn’t have noticed if he was anyone else but who he was. She took the green beans from his hand and politely thanked him for his help.
After she gingerly placed the can in her cart he calmly reached out and offered his hand. “ Grant Kendal,” he smiled, making sure it reached his eyes. Everything about him had been chosen by design to make her feel comfortable with him. From his name to his conservative yet relaxed haircut, even his nondescript, brown eyes and common aftershave had been carefully researched and pieced together to give him all the trust he needed to manipulate her in a hundred different ways and keep her where he wanted her. If all went according to plan he wouldn’t need her to trust him. Wouldn’t need to get that close. But in his experience, very few things ever went exactly as planned and he had to cover all his bases on this one. When she took his offered hand in hers and gave it a firm shake, then looked him in the eyes, he’d felt only half convinced it had worked.
“Claira Robbins,” she smiled confidently.
She looked different than the photos he’d seen of her, dressed differently, too. When he’d first arrived in town and began putting his plan into action, he had to study her carefully before he was convinced he’d found his mark. By all accounts she was the mousy, conflicted creature that others believed her to be, until that handshake. In his line of work, he found that few people ever made eye contact, even when they shook hands. Now, the sudden confidence in her eyes and body language was surprising, betraying his own confidence in his preparations. The sloppy bastard that wanted her seemed completely clueless of her true nature, something that didn’t surprise him at all.
Chapter Eleven
Claira closed her eyes and censured herself for allowing the familiar panicked-laced reaction to a common stranger rob her of her hard won peace. She was not that woman anymore. If she was going to live a normal life, the life she fought constantly to remind herself she deserved, then she had to start acting like a normal person; even when meeting a nice, somewhat plainly hansom stranger that had clearly just been trying to help her. Wasn’t that what normal people in small towns did? Help other normal people?
Relaxing her tensed, defensive posture, she met his warm brown eyes and couldn’t help but smile. She could do this. They chatted amiably for a few minutes, where she learned that he, too, was fairly new in town. He’d been staying with his grandmother in Dillon, a small town about a hundred miles west of Billings, until she had passed away a month ago. The tight strain in his voice when he spoke of her had Claira relaxing her guard a little more. He was a nice guy, looking for a fresh start, something she could relate to.
Moments later they said goodbye and he waved her down the aisle as he headed for one of the cashier lines with his can of baby peas. Claira forced herself to feel happy about the exchange. It had been a big step for her, but the new found freedom of talking freely with someone she didn’t know still felt strange to her.
Keys in hand, she paused at the trunk of her car as an even more bizarre thought occurred to her. Spending time with Mason, Matt and even their family hadn’t seemed awkward. Not in the way talking to Grant had been. Sure, she’d been nervous, but for some reason she had never doubted their sincerity and hadn’t once considered herself in danger around them. Ok, so not the sort of danger she’d become accustom to, anyway. If you counted their ruggedly handsome faces, their
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