herself. And to make sure Brianna knew, that even though she was being raised by a single parent, she was wanted more than anything.
You’re the baby I always wanted.
Brianna just hadn’t had the father Harper had wanted for her.
ONE OF MASON’S sought-after skills was his ability to home in on the smallest things. To see what the eye generally passed over. Like a tiny pencil mark on the wall. Or patterns that fallen cookie crumbs left behind. He had no magical powers, no special sense that others didn’t have; he just paid attention.
To everything.
Growing up with a little brother out to stab you in the back did that to a guy. Especially when your folks expected you to protect that younger sibling. The cherry on top had been the fact that he truly loved his brother—and knew Bruce loved him, too. Mason believed, even now, that each of them would die for the other.
All of this made his current situation as close to untenable as it ever got for him. Mostly, he just moved on through, no matter what muck he might find himself standing in. Taking it on the chin was also one of his perfected skills. Or drawing the hurt—the contradictions—inside himself.
Six of one, half a dozen of another...
“There she is.” Miriam’s half-mumbled, somewhat ornery remark took him by surprise. He’d been watching for Harper for more than half an hour and yet he hadn’t been the first to see her.
His skills seemed to desert him when she was around.
“Harper.” He stood. Held out a hand to her, not to shake, but to guide her to the third chair he’d pulled up. Without touching her, of course.
That was a mistake he’d never make again. Touching her.
“Well, you must be pleased,” Miriam said by way of greeting, and Mason frowned. What the hell? He’d never seen his grandmother be this downright ungracious. Vindictive. Mean.
I told you so was all over the look Harper sent him.
“Gram.” Mason wasn’t going to ignore the rudeness, regardless of the situation. “I can’t believe you just said that. You know damn well that Harper doesn’t want you hurt. And she doesn’t want the father of her child in trouble, either.” If he hadn’t been sure of that before his meeting with her that morning, he certainly was afterward.
While he didn’t understand it, couldn’t dissect it and study it, he’d always been aware of Bruce’s special charm. People gravitated to him. Liked him. Stuck up for him. Their parents and Mason included. And, apparently, that charm even worked with ex-wives.
Gram’s bent head made him feel a second of shame, and he regretted the harshness of his words, if not the sentiment. He recognized that he’d overreacted in his somewhat primitive male desire to protect a woman he’d once gone to bed with—
Nope. Not going there.
“You’re right,” Gram said before he could rectify what he’d said. She looked at Harper. “I apologize for my rudeness. But I don’t think you’re happy to have me here.”
What?
“I’m not happy you’re in this situation,” Harper said, then sat forward, her hands on the table in front of her. Open. Not clasped. She had nothing to hide, he translated. “But how I feel doesn’t enter into this,” she continued, sounding like a doctor breaking bad news, or a reporter on television. Compassionate and yet...professionally distant.
He glanced away, but not soon enough. The serious look in her eyes, the softness of her expression, even the damned uniform—it was all a turn-on.
Which made him a creep.
Or a man who’d been without a woman for far too long and unexpectedly saw one with whom he’d had a night of incredible sex.
Being turned on was preferable to giving in to the myriad of emotions vying for his attention. Fear for his family was at the top of that list.
If it took a sexual memory to get him through this...
“My job here, first off,” Harper was saying, “is to verify that you signed the VNL freely and of your own accord. The voluntary no release form.”
Chin tight, Miriam nodded. “I did.”
“Then it’s my responsibility to make sure you don’t leave. And that no one gets in who could do you harm. I’ll be assigning around-the-clock duty to you, which, at times, will include me. My officers and I will keep our distance, and do everything we can not to impinge on your privacy, but we will be present, at all times, as set out in the VNL. Are you in agreement with these terms?”
Gram’s glance in Mason’s direction seemed to waver for a second—almost to the point of vulnerability. He met her eyes. He felt a driving need to promise her that everything was going to be fine.
It was a promise he couldn’t make, and the words caught in his throat.
“I am in agreement.” Gram turned back to Harper.
Mason had to hand it to Harper. Her gaze remained straightforward, her face unsmiling. There was no sign of victory, or even of satisfaction in having Miriam agreeing to do as she said. Of having Miriam in a position of needing her.
“I’ll make this as painless as I possibly can,” Harper said. “Including keeping myself off your detail as much as I can.”
“I appreciate that. You being around as little as possible.”
Wow. Gram wasn’t letting up on her obvious dislike of Bruce’s ex. In all his years, Mason had never seen his grandmother behave this way. He wondered, for a second, if she was starting to lose her faculties. Bruce had assured him she wasn’t. Mason’s earlier concern about Gram’s aging hadn’t had anything to do with her mind; it had been due more to her lack of energy. Emotional and physical.
“That’s all I need, then.” Harper stood. “If you have any problems, if something alarms you or bothers you, even a little, don’t hesitate to speak to my team. Any time of the day or night. That’s what we’re here for.”
“Thank you.” Gram stood, too, and Mason saw the move for the power play it was. Miriam was going to stand up to Harper every step of the way.
With a nod toward Mason, Harper turned to leave. “Wait.” Gram’s voice, calling her back, filled Mason with a sense of relief. His grandmother was going to make this right.
And he wanted Harper back, too. They hadn’t spoken about Bruce yet. He’d hoped the two women would talk. That Harper would convince Gram to tell them what had happened. Convince her, too, that it would be best for Bruce in the long run if they could get him help.
When Harper had turned back, Gram said, “What about Brianna? When do I get to see her?”
Wow, again. This was so not the way to get what you wanted, by speaking with antagonism toward the person who could provide
