Give Me Grace(17)

My brows flew up. Cowboys? Jamieson and Valentine Consulting? Rolled cars?

Smart enough to put two and two together, I realised this must be the Casey that was here with Travis to collect me and here I was, hiding in the restroom like the guilty drug runner I was accused of being. My face burned with embarrassment.

Casey shrugged, keeping his smile as he said, “Can’t complain and not yet, but the day’s still young.”

She laughed. The sound was so forceful you’d think it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. After ending it with an awkward wheeze, she nodded at me. “She’s with you?”

He met my eyes briefly, the corners of his lips curving in a sexy smirk before he looked back at the security guard. “She’s with me alright. Is there a problem?”

She paused for a moment and I wanted to slap her for accusing me of carrying drugs. “No problem. We received notification that your young lady might’ve been carrying drugs on her flight but we must’ve been mistaken. We know you boys don’t tolerate that shit.”

With a wink, Helen slapped him on the back as she strode out of the restroom, pausing only to say, “You two take care now,” and she was gone. My jaw hit the floor. She was letting me go on his word alone?

Before I could speak, my wrist was grabbed in a vice and I was manhandled from the restroom and shoved against the wall behind me. The sudden assault made my lungs burn and my pulse race in panic. I flattened my palms against his muscular chest and shoved, but he didn’t budge. The man was made of goddamn steel and damn, he was big.

“If you don’t let me go,” I growled with menace, “I’m going to … to …” What, call security? Jesus. Somehow I’d gone from the frying pan into the fire.

Think, Grace. You need an exit strategy.

Casey pressed himself against me, wedging a firm thigh between my legs, effectively shutting down my struggles. The heat of his body was intense, and I felt sweat break out on my brow. Swallowing hard, I scrambled for my inner fearlessness and looked into his beautiful face. It was only inches from mine, his flirty eyes now flat and hard. He glared at me. It was so harsh you’d think I’d just punted a puppy across the room.

“You bitch,” he ground out.

Bitch? Me? This man had me a breath away from losing my shit. I didn’t know whether I should just bite him or scream for help. Instead, I paused my struggles and narrowed my eyes, returning his glare with one so almighty it should’ve ruptured his veins. John would’ve been proud. “You asshole!”





“I’m the asshole?” I growled.

The smell of honey and vanilla drifted from her hair, invading my senses as she struggled to get loose. To my horror, the sweet scent and the press of her tits against my chest had my cock responding, waking up with a perkiness that would soon be obvious. Cursing silently, I shifted my hips backward.

She glanced down at the bulge in my jeans before her wide eyes met mine. “You pervert!” she hissed. “Is this how you get off? Cornering innocent women inside airport toilets and rubbing all over them?”

“Stop moving,” I ordered harshly and took a small step back without loosening my hold. Grace was right. I felt like a damn pervert. “I just saved your ass from getting arrested for carrying drugs, dammit. Travis and I were supposed to be picking you up, but I’m considering telling everyone you never arrived and sending you back home. We don’t want your kind hanging around.”

“My kind? My kind?” Grace shot me a glare, her narrowed eyes darkening to rival the deep blue depths of the ocean. “Who the hell do you think you are? Batman? I hate to be the one to disillusion you, but this is not Gotham City, and no one appreciates your misguided vigilante type justice, least of all me. I am not carrying drugs, you idiot. You can search my bags if you don’t believe me. Hell, you can have my bags. I’m so freaking done with this day I don’t even care anymore!”

Travis appeared beside me, scratching the back of his head as he assessed the situation.

Nostrils flaring in anger, Grace cast him a quick glance and her brow arched sardonically. “Robin, I presume?”

I shook my head, cursing at myself. I should have been prepared for this, despite my day starting off none too badly.

I’d only just arrived at Jared and Evie’s house earlier for their Sunday barbecue before I was back in the car with Travis and on our way here to the airport. Frog, the bass guitarist with Evie’s band, had been in a car accident that morning. The outcome was a broken arm. With the band playing at the awards ceremony later tonight, it wasn’t looking good for them. Mac had been frothing at the mouth from stress, Quinn looked ready to pass out, and Evie was greener than she was yesterday.