Grim Offerings (Aisling Grimlock Book 2) (18 page)

When I returned to the townhouse, a huge bag of chocolate in hand – the beast is ready to rage, people – I found someone waiting for me on the front stoop. The figure wasn’t large and dressed in a cloak, so I wasn’t particularly worried.

That changed when I realized who was standing there.

“I … what are you doing here?”

Morgan Reid lifted his head when he heard my approach and blessed me with a flirtatious smile. “Is that any way to greet a gentleman caller, Aisling Grimlock?”

I froze. I’d never told Reid my real name. How had he figured it out? “Mr. Reid,” I said, shuffling on the sidewalk instead of closing the remaining few feet separating us. “How did you find me?”

“I looked you up on the Internet.” Reid didn’t appear ruffled by my standoffish nature.

“How?”

“I typed your name in that little window on the Google home page.”

I narrowed my eyes. “How did you know my name?”

Reid shrugged. “You told me.”

“No, I didn’t,” I said.

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“I think you did.” Reid wasn’t backing down.

I pursed my lips. “Okay, maybe I did tell you my real name,” I conceded. I totally didn’t. “That doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

Reid produced a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. It didn’t escape my attention that they looked as though he’d bought them from a grocery store – and the day-old bin, at that.

“You’re here to scare me with wilting flowers?”

Reid frowned. “They’re not wilting.”

“That one is brown.”

“It’s depressed because you’re rejecting it,” Reid said, trying for something approximating charm.

Whatever. “So, what are you doing here?” I clutched my bag of chocolate to my chest.

“I’m asking you to dinner,” Reid said.

Oh, well, Hell had frozen over. “I’m flattered … but … I’m going to say no.”

Reid wasn’t about to be deterred. “Can I ask why?”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“I thought you were married.”

I scowled.

“Are you saying you and your brother have divorced and you’re now dating?”

He was really starting to bug me. “I was never married to my brother,” I said. “That doesn’t mean I’m not involved. I believe you met him the other day.” Before you disappeared like a sneaky rat, I silently added.

“Are you engaged?” Reid studied my hand for a ring.

“No.”

“Then you’re still open for offers as far as I’m concerned,” he said.

I had a feeling Griffin would feel differently. “Well, I’m not.”

“You could be.”

“Nope.”

“You should be.”

“Nope.”

“Are you really going to turn me down?” Reid faltered for the first time.

I considered my options. We’d been trying to find more information on Reid since he escaped death the first time. Now that he’d done it twice, things were starting to get out of control. Oh, hell, what could it hurt to have dinner with him?

“Nope,” I said. “Let’s go to dinner.”

Reid arched an eyebrow, surprised. “Really?”

“I have to put this bag inside, and you’re going to stand right over there while I do it,” I said, pointing to a spot on the lawn. “If you move from there, I’m calling the cops.”

Reid grinned. “Don’t you trust me?”

“No.”

“You’re still going to have dinner with me, right?”

“Sure,” I said. “You’re buying, and I’m picking the restaurant.”

“I can live with that.”

We’d have to see about that.

“REALLY,
this is your favorite restaurant?”

I glanced around the Coney Island dubiously. On short notice, it was the brightest and most populated place I could think of within walking distance of my townhouse. There was no way I was getting into a money launderer’s car – especially when people kept trying to kill him. “I love hot dogs.”

Whoops. That was probably the wrong thing to say to a guy who I was sure was a demented pervert.

“Fine,” Reid said, reaching for a menu. “What’s good here?”

I made a face. “It’s a National Coney Island.”

Reid waited.

“Everything is good here,” I said.

Reid pressed his lips together. “Okay. What do you recommend?”

“Whatever you want,” I said, ignoring the menu. Seriously, who looks at a menu at a coney restaurant?

“What are you going to get?” Reid asked.

“Two coneys and chili fries.”

“That’s a lot of onions,” Reid pointed out.

“I’m getting them on the fries, too.”

Reid frowned. “That’s going to make getting close to you … uncomfortable.”

That’s what I was betting on. “You’ll live.”

Reid’s face was conflicted. “If you don’t trust me, and you don’t want to kiss me – and you’re missing out there, let me tell you – why did you agree to go to dinner with me?”

“I’m all kinds of odd,” I said.

“That’s why I like you.”

I leaned back in the booth. “How did you really find out who I was?”

“You told me,” Reid said.

Why did he keep saying that? I’d lied when I first met him, and then I’d lied poorly when I met him the second time. I’d never told him my name, though. “Okay,” I said, my tone even, “why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

“What do you want to know?”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I’m an investment banker.”

“That sounds boring,” I said.

“It’s quite lucrative.”

“That’s different from being boring,” I pointed out.

“I happen to like numbers,” Reid said. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m an antiquities dealer,” I said.

“What does that entail?”

“I go to estate sales and buy antiques,” I said. “Then I take them to my father and he sells them.”

“That sounds boring,” Reid said.

“Only if you don’t like garage sales,” I countered.

Reid furrowed his brow. “Do you like garage sales?”

“I love them,” I said. I hate garage sales. Used stuff freaks me out. I keep imagining naked people rubbing items up and down their bodies. Yes, I know it’s not reasonable or feasible. I still can’t stop myself. “I love looking at used stuff.”

“Aren’t antiques valuable used stuff?”

He had a point. “Yes.”

“And that’s not boring?” Reid pressed.

“Not in the least,” I said. “Let’s talk about you. What kind of banking do you invest?”

Reid looked confused. I’m not going to lie. Numbers confuse me. I have no idea what an investment banker does. My idea of investing is buying new Converse.

“I take money from my clients and invest in various things,” Reid said.

“Why?”

“To make them more money.”

“If they’re already rich, why do they need more money?” I asked. Yes, I know, that’s rich coming from a woman who grew up in a castle. I’m a hypocrite. Don’t judge me.

“Well, if you look at it that way, I guess it does seem absurd,” Reid said.

“How do you look at it?”

“I’m helping my clients increase their wealth,” Reid replied. “The richer I make them, the richer I make myself.”

“Oh, fun.”

“I take it you’re not a capitalist,” Reid said, laughing.

“I’m an Aquarius.”

Reid scanned my face. “Are you joking?”

“Nope. I’m a free spirit and thinker. I’m definitely an Aquarius.”

“Okay,” Reid said, glancing around the restaurant. “Where is that waitress?”

I internally smirked. “She’ll be along,” I said. “So, tell me about your clients.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Who are they?”

“I’m fenced in by certain rules,” Reid said. “My clients expect anonymity.”

“Why?”

“Because … people might try to rob them.”

“Is that really the reason?” I asked.

“I … yes.”

He was lying. “Do you do anything else on the side?” That was such a stupid question. The incoming PMS was making me irrational – and stupid.

“Like what?” Reid asked, shifting nervously.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I hedged, wracking my brain. “Do you ever take money from criminals and funnel it into legal avenues to wash it?” I am a moron.

Reid was taken aback. “Are you asking me if I’m a money launderer?”

Part of me wanted him to know I was on to him. He thought he was snowing me, and power is important in a relationship. Of course, I’d ceded my power now because Reid knew I was smarter than I looked. That’s always my mistake. “Of course not,” I said. “I just wondered if you had mobsters for clients.”

“Mobsters?”

I thought quickly. “Sonny on
General Hospital
is a mobster who owns a coffee business,” I explained. “He also does work at a bank all the time. He’s hot, too.”

“You know I don’t really work at a bank, right?”

No. I didn’t know that. I need to start reading the business pages of the newspaper. “Of course. I’m not stupid.”

“No,” Reid agreed. “You are hot, though.”

I didn’t like the predatory look on his face. “You should see me in the morning,” I said. “I look like a wildebeest.”

“Is that an invitation?”

Definitely not. “Where is that waitress?”

Reid smiled. He was back in control of our date. “Tell me about your family.”

I wrinkled my nose. “We’re like the Osmonds.”

Reid’s face was conflicted. “That singing family from the eighties?”

“Seventies,” I corrected.

“Is that better?”

“It depends on how much you value singing,” I replied.

“Uh-huh.”

I was back in control. “Is something wrong?”

“I feel like I’m on a dating show,” Reid admitted. “Have you been checked to see whether you have a chemical imbalance?”

“I have PMS.” What? Men are scared of women stuff – and their parts.

“I see.”

“Yeah,” I said, sinking into my role. “I’m a bloated and hormonal mess. I could snap you like a twig right now.”

It was a warning, and it wasn’t lost on Reid. “Good to know.”

“Do you know PMS has been a legitimate defense in murder cases?” I was on a roll now.

“I hadn’t heard that.” Reid shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m also licensed to carry a concealed weapon.” Technically, pepper spray is a weapon. Unfortunately, Jerry used the last of my stash when he was convinced the neighbor was stalking him because he was “hot for his bod” – and also a homophobe. No, I can’t explain it.

Reid straightened. “Check, please.”

I’m an awesome date.

“You didn’t have to walk me home,” I said, casting a sidelong look at Reid as he trudged along the sidewalk with me.

“You’re a woman and you’re vulnerable,” Reid said. “You shouldn’t walk home alone after dark. It’s not safe.”

The short trek had been tense. My stomach wouldn’t stop growling – we never did order – and I was anxious to raid the refrigerator when I got home. The one good thing about living with a baker is that there’s always something to munch on.

“It was three blocks,” I pointed out.

“You’re still vulnerable.”

“I’m fine.”

“Why are you being so difficult?” Reid asked.

“I’m not difficult,” I said. “I’m honest.”

“You’re difficult.”

“I’m awesome.”

“You’re deranged.”

“I’m still awesome.”

“I don’t understand eighty percent of what comes out of your mouth,” Reid said.

“And yet you still stalked me.” I stepped onto the sidewalk leading to the front door of my townhouse.

“I didn’t stalk you.”

“Don’t be … obnoxious,” I said. “We both know you stalked me.”

“I did not stalk you!”

Griffin stepped out of the shadows, his keys in his hand. He’d obviously just arrived from the adjacent parking lot. “Is someone stalking someone?”

I was relieved to see him. “You remember Morgan Reid, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, he’s stalking me,” I said.

“I am not stalking her,” Reid protested. “I showed up to ask her out on a date. I had flowers, for crying out loud.”

“From the grocery store.”

“They were still flowers,” Reid said. “You agreed to go out on a date with me.”

Griffin’s face was grim. “You went on a date with him?”

“I went to dinner with him,” I said. “We walked three blocks, we engaged in inane chatter, and then he ran like a little girl. We didn’t even order, and I’m starving.”

“I see,” Griffin said.

“She says she has a boyfriend, but I don’t believe her,” Reid said. “She also told me she was married to her brother. She keeps flirting with me.”

“You need to look up the word ‘flirting’ in a dictionary,” I said. “That doesn’t change the fact that you stalked me.”

“I’m a handsome guy,” Reid said. “I don’t need to stalk anyone. You’re just a … slut.”

Griffin growled.

“She is,” Reid continued. “She wants me. She just won’t admit it.”

“If Jerry hadn’t used all of my pepper spray, I’d totally spray the crap out of you right now,” I said. “You’re a freak.”

“You’re a freak,” Reid countered.

“You’re both freaks,” Griffin said. He studied us for a moment. “Mr. Reid, I can assure you that Aisling has a boyfriend.”

“Oh, really, how is that? Last time I checked, she was dating her own brother. That’s illegal. You know that, right?”

“I know that because I’m her boyfriend,” Griffin said, tapping his chest. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“Well, then you need to tell her that dating other men isn’t allowed,” Reid said. “She clearly doesn’t understand basic rules. She told me you were her boyfriend the same day she said her brother was.”

I stomped my foot. “I still told you I was dating someone.”

“And then you went out to dinner with me,” Reid countered.

“Because you wouldn’t leave.”

Griffin stepped between us, his hands raised. “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen,” he said. “Mr. Reid, I don’t believe your services are required any longer. Aisling is in a relationship, and I don’t like to share my toys.”

“You should tell her that,” Reid grumbled.

“You can go now,” Griffin said, gritting his teeth.

Reid’s glance bounced between us a moment, and then he stalked away without a parting shot. Once he was gone, Griffin fixed me with a look. He didn’t speak immediately, and after a full minute, I was starting to feel uncomfortable.

“What?”

“You went on a date with another guy,” Griffin said, clearly trying to control his temper.

“It wasn’t a date,” I argued. “He took me by surprise. I was perfectly happy to curl up on the couch with my big bag of chocolate and wait for you.”

“You really do have PMS, don’t you? I thought Jerry was … being Jerry … but he was right, wasn’t he?”

I shrugged. “So?”

“It’s just weird,” Griffin said.

“Technically, I won’t have PMS until tomorrow,” I clarified. “I was just getting prepared.”

Griffin furrowed his brow. “How did he find you?”

“He claims I told him my name,” I said. “I didn’t.”

“So, you agreed to go out on a date with him?”

“I agreed to walk down to the National Coney Island with him,” I corrected. “I never got anything to eat. I’m starving, by the way.”

His sigh was dramatic, and his face showed he was conflicted, but when Griffin finally focused on me, it was hurt I saw reflected back from the depths of his eyes. “We’re together, right?”

I faltered. “I … yes.”

“Last time I checked, people in a relationship don’t date other people,” Griffin said.

“It wasn’t really a date.” This was somehow snowballing, and I needed to stop it. “I was just trying to get information.”

“You’re not an investigator,” Griffin said.

“But … .”

He held up his hand. “I need to be able to trust you.”

My lower lip started quivering. Hormones bite. “Don’t you?”

“I did until I found you coming back from a date with another man,” Griffin replied. “I thought … I thought we were together.”

I ran my hands through my hair, confused. “Okay, I don’t want to start a big fight here, but we’ve never really defined our relationship. That doesn’t mean I was going to touch him or let him touch me.”

Griffin cleared his throat as he scanned the night sky. “That’s a fair point,” he said after a moment. “Let’s define our relationship.”

This was new … and scary. “Okay.”

“When I look at you, I see my girlfriend,” he said. “What do you see when you look at me?”

Fear was the most obvious answer. “I don’t know,” I said. “I … we haven’t had as much time together as I would like. We had a week together – and it was the best week of my life – and then you left.”

Griffin nodded, waiting.

“I know you have a job to do,” I continued. “I still felt like an afterthought.” Now was the time to tell the truth.

“I guess that’s fair,” Griffin said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I didn’t expect to be called away on an assignment. I think you need to know that. I usually have some lead-up when that happens.”

“I’m not blaming you,” I said, my voice low.

“I don’t expect to be called away on a lot of undercover assignments,” he said. “They do happen, though. I don’t volunteer for them, and I don’t plan on volunteering for them. If they happen, though, I need to know you can handle that.”

It was a pointed statement. “I didn’t complain about you being gone.”

“No, you just freaked out when you saw me in a restaurant the day I got back,” he reminded me.

“I saw a woman touching you in a restaurant,” I corrected. “I didn’t even know you had family in the area. Why would I think she was your sister? You never talk about your family.”

Griffin ran his hand through his hair. “Not all families are like yours.”

“I … .”

“I don’t want to talk about that right now,” Griffin said, firm.

I nodded.

“That doesn’t mean I won’t talk about it eventually,” Griffin said. “I just … not now.”

“Okay.”

“I want to talk about tonight,” he said. “I don’t want you to go on dates with other guys.”

“Because I’m your girlfriend?”

Griffin smirked. “Yes.”

“Fine,” I said. “I’m assuming that means you won’t be sleeping with women for information while you’re undercover, right?”

Griffin snorted. “It’s not like the movies, baby.” He held out his hand. “I don’t want to sleep with anyone else and I don’t want to date anyone else.”

I took his hand tentatively. “I don’t either.”

“Good,” Griffin said. “Now we need to talk about your sense of self-preservation.”

I shifted. “What?”

“We know Reid is a criminal,” Griffin said. “We know he has dangerous associates and that he’s marked for murder. Knowing all of that, why would you go to dinner with him?”

“I wanted to see if he would let anything slip,” I admitted.

“Did he?”

“No,” I said. “His whole goal was to knock me off my game.”

“Did he?”

“No.”

“So, how did things end?” Griffin was working hard to appear calm.

“I told him I was licensed to carry a concealed weapon and then he yelled for the check before we’d even ordered,” I said.

Griffin smiled. “You do have a way about you.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” I said after a moment. “I … I just had to make a quick decision. He took me by surprise.”

“Yeah, we have to figure out how he knew who you were,” Griffin said, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. “I just … we’re clear here, right?”

I nodded. “Yes. I’m your girlfriend.”

“And I’m your boyfriend,” Griffin said. “It’s okay to call me that. I know you’ve been … conflicted. It’s okay, though. I’m not going anywhere, Aisling. You don’t have to be afraid all of the time.”

His words were warm when they washed over me. “What if Aidan doesn’t let up?”

Griffin sighed. “Aidan is having issues,” he said. “I’m not sure what they are, but he’ll let us know when he wants to remedy them. His issues are not my issues.”

“What are your issues?”

“I don’t want my girlfriend dating other men,” he said. “I want you all to myself.”

I snickered. “You know I have PMS, right?”

“Jerry told me.”

“Jerry told everyone.”

“He’s my walking mood calendar,” Griffin said. “I think he’ll probably come in handy in that department.”

“He’s a handy guy.”

“He’s your … best friend,” Griffin said, smiling. “He has a certain charm that just can’t be denied.”

“He always did.”

“I like Jerry,” Griffin said. “The shark thing was weird, and yet I get it. You guys managed to make my sister feel safe when she should have been having nightmares. I appreciate that.”

We hadn’t talked about Maya’s new reality yet. “Are you angry about all of that?”

“Am I angry that you risked yourself to save my sister? Is that what you’re asking?”

I shrugged.

“Aisling, I don’t want you to ever put yourself in danger,” he said. “The thing is, I’m a cop. I’m in danger whether I like it or not. You don’t complain about it, your meltdown at the restaurant notwithstanding.

“I don’t feel I can complain about your job,” he continued. “That would make me a hypocrite, and I try really hard not to be a hypocrite. I don’t always succeed, but I try. I know that you put yourself in danger to keep Maya safe. I want to be angry, but she’s my sister. I know you didn’t have a lot of options, and you did an outstanding job.”

“I always do an outstanding job.”

Griffin drew me to him, wrapping his arms around my waist as he rested his forehead against mine. “I need you to keep safe,” he said. “I’d be … sad … without you.”

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I know that. I’m not angry.”

“Even though I had dinner with the dirty money launderer?”

“Oh, you’re going to pay for that,” Griffin teased. “I’m going to make you give me a massage and then do something dirty.”

I smirked.

“You have PMS, though, right? How long do I have?”

“Four days.”

“I guess I’d better make them count.” He pressed a sweet kiss to my lips and then pushed me toward the door of the townhouse. “Start moving. You’re going to have a busy four days.”

Somehow, that didn’t sound too bad.