Her Forever Hero (Page 23)

“How can you call yourself an event planner if you can’t even tell the difference between Persian blue and whatever the hell this color of blue is?”

Grace was quickly losing her cool. Finally, she stood, going face-to-face with Kitty. She had to tell herself to remain calm. No matter how bad the client was, she was still a client, and it was Grace’s job to make her happy.

“I’m so sorry, Kitty. I will take the two swatches to the supply house and make sure we fix this mess.”

When Grace spoke calmly, it calmed Kitty somewhat. She was still practically shaking with anger, and it took all of Grace’s control not to snap, but somehow she was beginning to defuse the situation.

“Okay, then. I’ll leave you to it. This smoke from your little bonfire thing is hurting my delicate skin.”

Without saying anything more, the woman turned and walked away, most likely to find the broomstick she’d come in on.

“What in the hell was that?” Sage asked as she came to stand by Grace.

“That’s my hell. Kitty Grier, so far the worst client I’ve had,” Grace said with a shudder.

“Damn, Grace. You really need a new job.” Sage laughed before taking the nearly empty cup Grace had been holding and replacing it with a full glass of pure goodness.

“You know what I need,” Grace said before taking a long swallow.

“Forget about her. Let’s go back to relaxing,” Sage wisely told her.

Soon, Kitty was forgotten, so Grace resumed her position in the chair and closed her eyes. She would eventually get one day—just one, that’s all she was asking—when there was absolutely zero drama.

Unfortunately, today hadn’t been that day.

Cam felt as if he were in a trance. His eyes were drawn to this incredible woman, and he was hopelessly captivated by every little thing about Grace Sinclair. The way she tipped her head back and filled the air with the sound of her contagious laughter—it stopped him in his tracks. And he wasn’t the only one who was spellbound.

Surveying the room quickly, he found many admiring eyes. Endearing was the word for her. As she sat back in her chair, unconscious of her charms, she twirled her long strands of hair in her finger and tilted her head to the side, eyes wide while she listened intently to the conversation bubbling around her.

It had been so long since he’d held her in his arms, sunk deep inside her body. Their coming together again was inevitable, and it was the last thing he should be thinking of at this moment. Something bad was going on in her life, and he needed to focus on helping her. But who said he couldn’t offer up a little temptation along the way? They had once been good together. He was positive they could be that way again.

“You and Grace have sure been spending a lot of time together,” Jackson said as he followed Cam’s line of sight and smirked at the target just before taking a swig of beer.

“Yeah,” Spence added. “Having little kissing sessions in the hallways of hospitals, catching her from falling at her apartment, even staying the night and nursing her back to health. Hmmmm.”

“Shut up, both of you,” Cam grumbled, pulling his gaze from Grace so he could focus on his brothers. He knew that if he let them get too out of hand, he’d be saying something he shouldn’t—something he wouldn’t be able to take back.

Yes, he wanted Grace, but his feelings ran much deeper than that, and those feelings were for him to think about and analyze. They weren’t to be put on display for all the world to see, especially not for his brothers.

“What? We just want to help you out,” Jackson said far too innocently.

Michael joined the group. “What am I missing?”

“We were just telling Cam how good Grace looks and how we noticed they’ve been spending a lot of time together,” Spence piped up.

“And she belongs to me, so back off,” Cam told them. Hell, he couldn’t lie to his brothers. The situation would only grow worse if he did.

“Didn’t you tell me earlier you were simply trying to help her with a case?” Michael asked.

“I am trying to help her with a case, but there’s . . . history between us. The situation isn’t exactly black-and-white,” Cam said. “Enough, okay?” He was really hoping they would now drop their line of questioning.

He could hope, but that had never gotten him anywhere.

“Just throw her over your shoulder and take ownership,” Jackson said with a laugh before looking over his own shoulder to be sure his wife hadn’t heard him say that.

“Mighty big words, Jackson. They’d have more impact if you didn’t look so worried right now,” Spence said, grinning widely. “Talk about whipped.”

“You’re one to talk. I would love to know what Sage would think about some of the comments you just made, big brother,” Jackson fired back.

“Okay, truce. Our wives would kill us,” Spence said. “I’m not ashamed to admit it—not in the least.”

“You know what? I didn’t ask for any of your opinions, and I certainly don’t want them,” Cam said between clenched teeth. Then he zeroed in on Michael. “Why have you been so secretive lately?”

Michael froze before looking around, acting even more suspiciously. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he finally said.

“Come to think of it, I haven’t seen you around much. Where have you been?” Jackson asked.

Now all the brothers were gazing at the youngest Whitman, who was shifting in his seat.