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Maizie blinked at the receiver in his hand. “But I heard A
“My cook.”
“Whatever. I’ve never met her, but I know her name. Why? Because I heard them talking. How did I hear them talking if there’s no speaker? I can smell that bacon like it’s in the room…and the eggs and toast. She’s squeezing oranges right now.” There was a reasonable explanation. There had to be. But something about saying it all aloud made her heart race, her words rush, as the realization sank in.
“Okay. Let’s talk.” Gray put away the phone then held a hand out to her. “Come here. I want to explain-”
“Can we just forget about that for now? I already know. That’s why I came.” Maizie waved the gesture away from the end of the bed. Did he think she was joking? She was hearing through walls, through floors. Now was not the time to discuss a theft he committed twenty-one years ago.
Gray’s hand dropped. He blinked. “You know?”
Ugh. Did he really think Gra
“You may be friends with Gra
“Then what?” Gray sat with one knee bent on the bed and the other dangling over the edge, covers at his waist.
“What? What made me come here? I…had some questions. About the accident. About that night.”
He shrugged, his face darkening with his sobering mood. “So ask. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
Was that attitude? He was giving her attitude, now? “No?”
“No. I’m not a thief…Little Red.” He made the nickname sound like an insult.
She matched his scowl. “Don’t call me that.”
Gray shook his head, threw back the covers and stormed past her to the bathroom. His beautiful body, tan and muscled. “You’re a child. Their child.”
He returned, wearing a gray silk robe, the lapels and sash a lighter shade. “Next time you come to a man’s house accusing him, get your damn facts straight.”
She propped her hands on her hips. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you give Gra
He turned on her. The movement so fast she dropped her arms, losing the cocky stance. “Yes. I found the fucking locket at the scene of an accident. My wife’s fatal accident.”
“What?” She couldn’t breathe. “Fatal? But I thought she just moved away.”
“No.” Gray straightened and seemed to reel in some of his anger. “She’s the reason I was there. I didn’t give a damn about your parents. They’d killed her. Mowed her down like a…a…” He made a frustrated growl and turned, walking to the turret windows off the sitting room.
“What are you talking about? We didn’t hit anyone. We hit a wolf.” Her own words sent a shiver down her spine, made Gray’s shoulders tense as he stared out the windows. She knew, but she didn’t want to.
Memories flooded back. “We were driving to pick up Gra
“My forest,” Gray said.
Maizie barely heard. “Daddy had just gotten a promotion. We’d be moving…”
Gray knotted his arms over his chest. “They were trespassing in our forest. Mine and Do
“It was dark and raining. We took the shortcut.”
“They were driving too fast,” Gray said.
“The wolf, it jumped out of nowhere.”
“She had every right to run in her woods.”
“My parents couldn’t stop. They tried…”
“Not hard enough.”
“Daddy jerked the wheel. We went over the side. Mommy was screaming, Daddy too. And then those eyes, cold green, heartless eyes…” Her gaze focused on Gray’s back. “The wolf. The wolf that caused my parents’ death. It was your wife. Your wife was a wolf. A werewolf.”
His voice was soft and cold. “And I’ve gone and mated with her killer’s child.”
“But there’s no such thing as-”
Gray turned, anger etching his expression. “As what? A werewolf? Stop lying to yourself, Maizie. You’ve been doing it long enough. What do you think attacked you last night? What do you think I am?”
She flinched. He was so angry. No. It wasn’t anger glistening in his eyes, it was guilt…and blame. “Ohmygod, you blame my parents for your wife’s death. You blame me.”
Gray dropped his gaze, his expression softening. “No. You were just in the car. She was dead. You weren’t.”
“Yes, you do. You blame me, just like I blamed her…” Gray met Maizie’s gaze, but he didn’t stop her from continuing the thought. “All this time, you couldn’t stand the sight of me. Made Gra
“Maizie…”
A knock at the door stopped the conversation cold.
“Mr. Lupo?” A
“Come in,” Maizie said when it was clear Gray wouldn’t respond. He stood stoic, feet planted, his back to the windows, his arms folded over his stomach.
A
“No. It’s fine. We’re…” Maizie glanced at Gray, “…finished. We’re done.” She looked back to A
“What’s the message, A
One hand under the tray, she pushed up her glasses then grabbed the tray again. “Oh. Yes. Green Acres Nursing Home called. They’d tried to reach Ms. Hood and when they couldn’t they called here. Apparently Ester had a small health scare.”
“What?” Maizie’s heart stopped.
“Oh, no, no,” A
This morning? To the hospital and back already? “What time is it?”
“It’s nearly four,” A
“Four? PM?” Maizie watched her nod. “That’s not possible. I slept more than fourteen hours?” She looked at Gray.
His gaze remained fixed on A
“I have to go.”
“Where?” he said.
“Where do you think? I have to make sure my grandmother’s okay.” She went to the bathroom and grabbed her sneakers. They were speckled with blood, but it wouldn’t affect how well they’d protect her feet.
“A
Maizie came out hopping, struggling into one shoe and then the other. “I have to check for myself.”
“So call Green Acres. You can use the phone here.”
“I’ll call from the cottage. I want to shower before I go in to see her anyway.”
“Shower here.”
“I don’t have any clothes.”
“What you’re wearing is fine.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his robe. Shrugged. “Or I’ll send A
Why was he making this so difficult? He should want her gone as badly as she wanted to go. Except that she didn’t really want to leave him. Gawd, so much had changed so fast. Everything had gotten screwed up and twisted. She wanted him as much as she had twenty minutes ago.
But how could she stay when he obviously hadn’t worked out his feelings about her part in the accident? How could she stay when she hadn’t worked out how she felt about his part in her parents’ death?
“You have to stay, Maizie.”
“I really don’t.” She focused her gaze on the opened door. She couldn’t bear to look at him. She couldn’t risk seeing that look in his eyes-anger, blame, hate. She’d rather never look at him again.