The Closer (15 page)

He'd just buzzed through the apartment, killed all the lights and grabbed his keys when another knock landed against his door.

Bag in hand, he swore violently under his breath and swung it open, prepared to send whoever it was packing.

Jess
.

He blinked, staggered.

“Do you have a minute?” she asked uncertainly. Her gaze dropped to his bag and her eyes widened. “Oh, you're leaving. I'm sorry. I—”

“I was coming to see you,” he said, his voice ringing strangely in his ears. God, she was lovely, simply breathtaking.

“Coming to see me?” she repeated, looking equally shocked.

“Yes, I was,” he said. “I was coming to tell you how wrong we were about us.” Remembering himself, he quickly stepped back. “Come in,” he said. “Please.”

She nodded, and walked past him, her rosy scent trailing along behind her, and he breathed her in, felt his chest constrict with emotion. He dropped his bag, hurried around her and turned on a few of the lights he'd just extinguished.

Rather than sit, she stood in the middle of the room, uncharacteristically nervous, her eyes haunted with wariness. “Before you tell me how wrong we were about us, would it be okay if I said a few things to you?”

“You can say whatever you want to me, Jess.”

She smiled a little and fidgeted. “The other day when you left my house, I realized that it was before I got to tell you what you mean to me, how you've made me a better woman.”

He shook his head. Bullshit. She was phenomenal long before she'd ever met him. “I—”

She scowled, chastising him. “You said I could do this, remember?”

“I did,” he admitted. “Sorry, go on.”

“I didn't get to tell you that I had the most wonderful time of my life with you, that you make me feel like I can leap tall buildings in a single bound, or swing through the jungle from one vine to another, or any of the other things that superheroes do.”

He grinned. Only Jess. “You mean like superhero guys do?”

She bit the corner of her lip, her eyes twinkling. “Yes, like superhero
guys,
but kick-ass superhero girls aren't nearly as prevalent or as awesome.”

“What about Gladiator Girl?”

She snorted indelicately. “What about her? All she's got is a Trident of Truth and she's powerless if a man touches her.” She rolled her eyes. “Sorry, but I'd rather
fly
.”

Of course she would. He chuckled, unable to help himself.

“Anyway, I didn't come here to debate the merit of superhero men versus superhero women,” she continued impatiently. “I'm here because I needed you to know how special you are to me and how much I enjoyed being with you and how fabulous I think you are.” She smiled softly, admiration lighting her gaze. “You're more than just criminally, unfairly handsome,” she said, “you're a
genuinely good guy
. You're a rare breed, Griffin Wicklow, and I...I just needed you to know that.”

He swallowed thickly, touched, and nodded. “Thank you.”

She clasped her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels. “Now it's your turn,” she said.

He frowned. “My turn?”

“To tell me why we were wrong about us.”

Oh, right. He'd been so overcome with her little speech, he'd momentarily forgotten himself again. Was that part of being in love? he wondered. Early-onset dementia?

Because he was in love with her. Totally, completely, unequivocally.

He looked up at her, his gaze moving over the dear line of her face. The achingly familiar slope of her cheek, the smooth brow, those unusual gray eyes, her lush mouth. “We were wrong about us...because I love you.”

She stilled.

He lifted a single shoulder. “There are more reasons, but ultimately that's what it boils down to.” He swallowed and lifted his chin. “I'm in love with you and I'd rather spend whatever time I can with you than none at all. I don't care where you live, or where I live, or how difficult it's going to be. It only matters that I get to see you again.” He managed a grin, and peered at her, trying to gauge her expression. “I'm your ‘slathering hound,' remember? And I'm not opposed to begging at your back door.”

At long last a slow smile slid across her lips and lit her crinkling gaze. “You don't have to beg, Griff.”

Relief wilting through him, he sidled forward and wrapped his arms around her. She hugged him back, then tilted her head and pressed a kiss against his neck. “I'm in love with you, too,” she whispered. “Crazily so.”

“Then we can be insane together.”

She smiled up at him. “And guess what?”

“What?”

“As it happens, I'm going to be relocating to Atlanta.”

He felt his eyes widen, happiness darting through him, and he gave his head a little shake. “What? Really? When?”

“Really,” she said. “My dad met someone online, a woman who lives in an upscale retirement complex here in Atlanta. Twilight Acres,” she said. “Anyway, the reason he was so desperate to make sure the business was well on its feet was so that he could leave it to me without worrying about it failing. He's moving here, to be with her.”

“What about his agoraphobia?” Griff asked, still reeling from surprise.

“She's arranged for a therapist and he says that he wants to get help, that if it brings them together then it's worth it.”

He hummed under his breath. “Sounds like a smart man. But what about your house? The shop?”

“I'm renting the house to Monica at a very affordable rate,” she said, her eyes dancing. “Her kids will
love
it.”

He grinned. “Understandably.”

“And I'm putting the shop up for sale and taking the whole business digital. We already do a huge online business.” She shrugged. “It's merely a matter of adding the rest.”

“It sounds like you've got everything worked out.”

She winced and bit her lip. “Everything but a place to stay,” she said, peeking at him through lowered lashes. “I'll need to start looking—”

“No, you don't,” he said. “Your place is here with me.”

She smiled hesitantly. “Are you sure? That's a pretty big step. I'd understand if you'd rather I—”

“Jess, I've never been more certain of anything in my life. It's go-big-or-go-home time. I want
this
to be your home.
Our
home. At least for the time being, until we can find a nice little plot of land and build our own tree house.”

He brushed his lips over hers and she felt that kiss all the way to the bottom of her feet. The wedding march cued up in her head again and a vision of little chubby-cheeked babies with coppery curls suddenly filled her head, making her ovaries scream.

“What do you say?” he asked, his gaze searching hers.

Jess grinned. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

His best one yet, she thought, then kissed him again.

Epilogue

One week later...

J
ESS
DIDN
'
T
KNOW
why
Payne had insisted that she be a part of this Ranger Security meeting, but
assumed it was because it had something to do with the Owl—aka Keller
Thompson—and her newly engaged status to Griff. She inwardly preened and gazed
at the ring on her finger, a simple diamond, set in platinum. It was perfect,
just like her fiancé.

“I appreciate all of you coming in this evening,” Payne said.
“The truth is, I have a huge favor to ask and it's going to take everyone's
cooperation to make it work. If any one of you object, then that'll be the end
of it, and the issue will never be brought forward again.”

Looking as intrigued as concerned, every eye in the boardroom
rested on the head of Ranger Security and waited for him to continue.

“As you all know, Keller is an old friend and, despite
his...history, he's one I still trust and still value. When all this started
with the Clandestine bra, I told Griff at the time that Keller didn't do
anything without a reason, without thinking several steps ahead to an endgame.”
He paused, then released an imperceptible breath, revealing the first bit of
nervousness. “That endgame was a job with Ranger Security.”

Silence thundered for all three seconds, then Griff, Flanagan
and McCann all swore and offered several creative variations of “Hell, no.”

“I understand and anticipated this initial reaction,” Payne
continued. “But I do wish you'd take a few minutes and think about it before
giving me your answer.”

“Why didn't he just call you and apply for a job, like a normal
person?” Flanagan wanted to know. “Why go to all the trouble to steal something
just to give it back? It's illogical.”

“Because he was hired by Montwheeler, as well,” Griff remarked
knowingly, startling the hell out of everyone except Payne, who merely grinned
at him.

“What? No way,” McCann scoffed.

“He's right,” Payne confirmed. “They wanted the additional
publicity, wanted to create more buzz, wanted to generate more interest for
their company and for the auction.”

Flanagan shook his head, passed a hand over his face, then
nodded. “And considering that the bra went for a cool million more than it was
worth—”

“Because it had been taken from the notorious Owl,” McCann
interjected, his eyes widening with shock.

“—their plan definitely worked,” Flanagan finished. He swore,
blinked. “Wow. Just wow.”

“Be that as it may, Payne...he's still a thief,” McCann pointed
out. “What sort of message does that send to our clients?”

“He's a
former
thief,” Payne
corrected. “I think he'd be an invaluable asset to our team. Who better to catch
a thief than another thief?” he asked. “Consider this latest case that just
landed on my desk. The missing guitar? Keller knows the ins and outs of this
market, he knows every reputable fence and, more important, he has the sources
to get information that we can't.”

“Maybe so,” Flanagan said with a shrug. “But I still think that
it's risky.”

Jess gave her head a shake. “So in addition to getting paid for
it, stealing the bra was ultimately his way of interviewing for a job with you?
Of proving his merit? The benefit he'd bring to the company?”

Payne nodded. “That was it exactly,” he confirmed. “And, much
as it pains me to admit, he bested us. I think we're stronger with him and I
believe in second chances.”

Griff finally looked up. “And what happens if he ends up being
a liability? If he ends up stealing from a client, rather than protecting what
needs to be protected?”

“If I genuinely thought that would happen, then I wouldn't have
brought it to the table,” Payne said. “But if it does, then it's on me and I'll
make whatever restitution is required.”

McCann studied his friend for a long, tense moment. “I trust
your judgment,” he finally said. “You've never steered this company wrong, and
I've got money in the bank and a full belly because of it. If you're willing to
take the risk on Keller, then you have my support.”

Payne nodded, seemingly touched. “Thank you.”

“Mine, as well,” Flanagan said. “Guy is right. There wouldn't
have been a Ranger Security without you.” He managed a smile. “It's easy to
forget stuff like that when you're working with your best friends, but it's the
truth.”

Griff shifted, rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm not at all
certain why you thought you needed my vote,” he said. “I'm low man on the totem
pole here and, frankly, I don't think I deserve a say one way or the other.”

“First of all, there are no low men on the totem pole at Ranger
Security,” Payne told him. “And while it's true that me, Jamie and Guy are
partners, it was your mission that Keller thwarted. I wouldn't dream of bringing
him on board without discussing it with you and Jess first.”

“Thank you,” Griff said, obviously grateful. “I appreciate
that. And it's for that reason that I'll withhold any objection to Keller
joining our team.”

Payne's gaze swung to Jess. “And you, Jess? Are you okay with
it?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “Who am I to say no? Because
of him, business is booming. All's well that ends well, right?”

Payne's cool face melted into a pleased smile and he nodded.
“All right then. I'll bring him in.”

“What? Now?” Jamie asked in surprise.

“He's here?” McCann echoed, his eyes wide.

“He is,” Payne said. “I thought it best to strike while the
iron was hot.”

Less than a minute later the newest member of Ranger Security
and the notorious thief called the Owl followed Payne into the room. Jess didn't
know what she'd expected—maybe that he'd look a little more birdlike—but Keller
Thompson was definitely a surprise.

He was tall and nice-looking, with dark blond wavy hair and
pale green eyes. He had an easy smile, which revealed a set of dimples on either
side of his mouth, and moved with a laconic sort of grace. It took him less than
two minutes to charm away any reservations the other men might have had about
him, and when he finally stepped forward to shake her hand, there was an odd
twinkle in his eye, one that she felt she should recognize but didn't.

“Nice to officially meet you, Jess,” he said. “I'm a big
admirer of your work.”

“Yours was pretty impressive, as well,” she said.

“I dabble,” he said demurely. “Nothing more.”

“I'd planned on cleaning your clock,” Griff told him. “Because
you scared her half to death when you gassed us. But now that you're officially
a coworker, I'll refrain.”

“Thank you.” He winced, leaned in closer to Jess. “My apologies
for that,” he added. “I'd underestimated his importance to you or I would have
used an alternate method, one that wouldn't have been so upsetting.”

Her gaze slid to Griff, who'd wandered over to speak to Payne.
“Until that moment I'd underestimated his importance to me as well, so you're
forgiven.”

“And business is well?” he asked.

She grinned. “Very well.” As she was sure he knew. Her cell
suddenly vibrated in her pocket and she winced and excused herself. “Sorry,” she
said. “It's probably my dad.”

Jess turned away and glanced at the phone, surprised when she
realized it hadn't rung, but that she'd gotten a text. A picture.

It was the selfie Andre had taken with his cell phone the day
of the show. He was leaned over her shoulder, smiling widely, his hand dangling
over her other shoulder, and in that hand...was the owl feather that she'd later
found on Payne's chest.

She gasped, stunned, and whirled around, looking for Keller. It
was impossible, she thought. Different hair, different eyes, different voice.
What about the dog? What about his boyfriend?

Holy mother of...

He'd staged it all. Every damn bit of it.

Finally, her gaze caught his and he winked at her.

Her phone suddenly hooted twice and then the image vanished
from her screen, the only verifiable evidence that Keller Thompson had been
Andre the stylist.

Another text arrived.
It'll be our little secret, eh?

Griff sidled up next to her. “Are you all right?” he asked,
concern lighting his gaze. “You look odd.”

She gave herself a little shake. “I'm fine,” she said. “I seem
to have lost my dog,” she pretended to fret. “Have you seen him?”

Griff chuckled and slung an arm around her shoulders. “Attach
the leash, baby, and let's go home.”

She sighed and lifted her lips up for a kiss. “Another plan I
can fully get behind.”

“You know me,” he teased. “The man with the plan.”

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from
Mission:
Seduction
by Candace Havens!