Like Honey (21 page)

M
atthew Collins sat behind his huge desk and studied Grayson McGhilly.

“You have an interesting background,” he said finally. “And an impeccable record.”

“Yes, sir,” Gray said, wondering what this was all about. Would he be getting reinstated? Or fired?

“You know the agency takes a dim view of vigilantes,” he said, and tapped his fingers briefly on the desk.

Gray's stomach flopped around a bit. Fired then, he thought, after all these years of service. “Yes,” he said. “I know that.”

“What was your reasoning?”

“I like to finish the work I start,” Gray said without hesitation.

“But you were suspended by me,” he said. “It wasn't your work any longer.”

Gray thought a moment. What did this man want from him? If he was going to be fired, he may as well be honest. He had nothing to lose. “Look,” Gray said finally. “My work is more than a job to me. I consider it an honor to serve my country and the people of my country. Jennifer D'Amico is one of those people, even though she lives in Scotland. From experience, I knew that just because Cullen was dead didn't mean that the operation was. I knew someone would screw up, and I wanted to be sure to catch that person.”

“And that's what happened,” the older man said.

“Yes, sir,” Gray said. By this time he wanted it to be over. What was the point of dragging this thing out?

“It might surprise you to know that Scotland has a huge drug problem that concerns our government because many of our citizens are involved in one way or the other,” the man said, straightening some papers on his desk. “Of course, where's there's drugs . . .”

“There's everything else,” Gray said. He wanted to get back to Jennifer, but Collins seemed to want to chat. Where was this going? Why didn't he just ask for the badge and be done with it?

“But I am retiring soon, going back home to Nashville,” he said. “I've been in this office for a good ten years. I love Scotland, but I'm ready to go home.”

Gray just looked at the man.

“It may not sound like an exciting gig at all. But I've helped to break up many drug gangs, prostitution rings, terrorist plots, and so on. All from this office, with a few agents in the field.”

Gray knew he was right. He'd read all about it. Collins reported to the London office and the London office to the D.C. office, where briefings were held and reports were issued. He always liked to keep up to speed on the agency happenings throughout the world, but since his grandmother lived in Scotland and his family still had close ties there, he always read the reports on Scotland.

“The element of surprise, you see,” the man went on. “It works for us. Few people realize we are even here—or that events here would concern the American government.”

Gray grunted in acknowledgment. “I read about the terrorist you found harbored in Glasgow. That was an amazing and important bust,” Gray said.

Matthew Collins—a man who did not smile readily—smiled, beamed, and nodded his head. “Yes, that one is helping me with my slightly early retirement.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I almost got myself killed,” he said.

Ah yes, Gray had read about that, too. A shot to the chest that grazed his heart—if it had been a few more inches, the man would have died.

Gray nodded respectfully.

“Of course, that wasn't the first time I'd been hurt in the line of duty,” he said. “But it was the first time since becoming a grandfather.”

Suddenly the tough old coot looked like a soft old man.

“I kept thinking about lost time with my own kids and how I didn't want to fuck up this grandfather thing,” he said. “It feels like a second chance, you see.”

“Ah, second chances are great things,” Gray said.

“They are. That's why I'm pleased to reinstate you, if that's what you want, son,” he said, smiling a huge Cheshire-cat grin.

“Whew,” Gray said, relieved visibly, and thrilled. “Thank you, sir.” He started up from his chair.

“Just one minute, Gray,” he said. “I'm not finished.”

Damn, what more could there be? He wanted to get home to Jennifer.

Gray sat back down. “Yes, sir?”

“You've been recommended for my post,” he said.

“Me?” Gray could hardly believe what he was hearing. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” he said. “Kasey recommends you highly. She felt staying in one place for a while might suit you.”

Kasey? Hmmm. His heart pounded. How did she know?

“Well, I—”

“Take some time and think about it. It's a big step, to be pulled into an office most of the time. It might not suit you. Still plenty of fieldwork to be involved in, if you want. You'd be calling all the shots,” he said, “reporting to London, of course.”

“You're right. I need to give this some thought,” he said. “I've not put roots down in thirteen years.”

But if ever there was a place and time, it was Scotland here and now. Jennifer here and now. The thought of it sent tendrils of warmth and excitement through him.

“Maybe it's time then. For some reason, your boss thinks it is,” said Collins with more than a gleam in his eye.

I
t had been two weeks since Jennifer had been back to D'Amico Farm. Her doctors were overly cautious—she felt as if she could have returned a week ago.

But so much had changed in that time. The heather had come in beautifully and the bees were producing so much that, unless something terrible happened, this would be a banner year for the business. The first year without drugs subsidizing it, and they were going to do fine.

“Welcome home,” Gray said, holding a glass of champagne and handing her another one. Her friends gathered around her. Maeve, always there for her, and her husband Jackson. Sanj, her ex-fiancé now with Sasha, another best friend, unlikely friend, but still. The last time they were all together Maeve and Sasha were in bad shape, having been kidnapped by a very bad man.

“Cheers!” Jennifer said, and they all raised a glass. The champagne was good. She tasted every nuance as she looked around at her friends.

“Sasha, you've gotten a tan!”

Sasha, sitting on the couch with her long skinny arms draped over pillows, looked up and said, “I've been working outside with your bees, darling. I couldn't help getting a bit of a tan.”

“I know how much you hate being outside, so thank you,” Jennifer said, thinking of the time she and Sasha worked on a cacao plantation together for a day. Sasha bitched constantly.

“Actually, it's much more pleasant here than it is in Saint Lucia, or even India. I can breathe here,” she said.

“What? You prefer Scotland to India?” Sanj said in a mock tone. “Then my darling I shall buy you a Scottish castle.”

“Shouldn't be too hard to manage,” Jackson spoke up. “I saw three of them for sale in the paper just yesterday.” He placed his arm around Maeve in a protective and familiar manner. “I had just asked Maeve if she wanted one.”

Maeve laughed. “Me? How could I give up New York?”

“It sounds like a great idea,” Jennifer said. “You could just live here part of the year.”

“And you?” Gray said. He had been milling around on the outside of the circle. All eyes zoomed in on him.

Jennifer walked toward him, reached for his hand. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Later, as Jennifer was putting away clothes in her room, Gray managed to find his way to her, coming up behind her, wrapping his hard hands around her, making her feel safe, warm, and truly at home.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“I feel fine.”

“Good enough to . . . ?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, and reached for his belt, unbuckling it and then finding her way to him, hardening in her hands. “Mmmm. Just the way I remembered.”

He could hardly speak—or so it seemed. “You know . . . I want you . . . my little pussycat.” He pulled out her mask, along with his, from the back of his jeans.

A swirl of laughter erupted from her. “That's right,” she said, and felt giddy. “The day of the shooting, I figured it out. You were my masked Green Man at the Mead Maker's Ball!”

“And you were that sweet little pussycat,” he said, slipping the mask on her.

“Me-ow.”

He placed the mask on his face—a sweet rush of passion shot through Jennifer, making her want to ride him, take him into her mouth, to her center. A sinking feeling crept into her darkest places.

“It was you,” he whispered, pulling her to the bed, lifting her nightgown over her hips. “It was you all along.”

“Nice,” he said as ran his hand along her naked ass then playfully smacked her.

She squealed and wiggled. “Jesus, I'm not sure how long I can wait.”

Underneath his knowing hands, her body was lifted and twisted around, and he spread her wide as his tongue and lips found her aching, pulsing center.

She could only sigh, moan, respond as her body became a sea of quivering flesh. Soon she bucked hard in his face as an intense orgasm overcame her.

“Yes,” he said. “I love watching you come.”

“Your turn,” she was barely able to say. She was so high from their lovemaking that words did not want to come to her lips.

He turned her over, lifted her hips, and brought them to him. He took her growling, thrusting, and she met each movement. She found herself screaming and tearing at the bed. She was no longer herself, she had become something else, something new under his hands, under his weight. She was no longer Jennifer D'Amico. She was his.

As his cock moved farther into her and hit her g-spot, she reacted to the pressure with another orgasm, taking her by surprise. She was never going to stop coming. But when she did, he had, too. They were a hot and sticky mess. But neither one of them wanted to stop. He gently moved in her, growing hard slowly.

“You—?” she managed to say.

“Aye, I can go again, can you?” His Scottish coming out in him. She could almost see him roaming the highlands in a kilt.

“Baby,” she said, “I'm all yours.”

“O
kay, see, I'll have my web guru create a webpage and blog for you that you just have to update on a regular basis. You know, you can write about things like what's in bloom, how the bees are doing. You could even give recipes and stuff like that. People will love it,” Maeve said.

“I've gotten some great photos since I've been here. I'll be sure to leave a jump drive here for you. You can load them on to the blog and use them,” Jackson said. “I won't charge you, I promise.” He grinned.

“That's a good thing because I couldn't afford you,” Jennifer said, smiling back at him.

“Now let me take a look at the books,” Maeve said.

“Out of here!” Jackson said. “Numbers and I just don't mix!”

“See you later,” Jennifer said as he leaned down to kiss Maeve. She loved seeing them together. She never thought Maeve would settle down with one man—she had more lovers than Jennifer could keep track of. It was always such a sweet thing to see Maeve and Jackson together.

“Have at it,” Jennifer said, clicking open the computer program that held all the financial information, now.

“Thank God it's all in the computer now,” Maeve said.

“You're telling me,” Jennifer said. “You want some coffee or something?”

“Yes, that would be great.”

Jennifer went to the meeting room, where she kept the makings for coffee, and prepared a pot. As she did so she thought about how wonderful it was to have her friends here. She'd hate to see them leave.

She walked back in the office and Maeve was engrossed.

“You know,” she said, “it looks really good. Gray was right. It was a banner year for the heather honey—and you're not done yet, from my understanding. If everything keeps going steady, you should be able to sell in three years.”

Sell? The very thing she had thought she wanted somehow sent waves of fear through her. What would she do next? What would she do with her life when she was no longer a bee farmer?

“Jen?” Maeve spun around to look at her. “What's wrong?”

“It just dawned on me that if I sell this place . . . well . . . what will I do with myself?”

“You'll figure something out,” Maeve said. “Maybe by then you won't want to sell. You don't have to do anything, right?”

The coffee machine beeped, alerting her that the warm spicy brew was ready. Maeve had brought some coffee from New York. Jennifer loved it. She poured them each a cup of the hot liquid and stirred cream into hers, nothing into Maeve's. She brought the coffee into the office and sat Maeve's on the desk.

Maeve reached for it and took a sip after blowing on it. “Hot,” she said, and sat the cup back down.

“You're going to be okay,” Maeve said, as if making a pronouncement. “I can see you're going to do well now. You've reached a turning point.”

“Yes,” Jennifer said. “I think I have.”

“Well, at least business-wise. Now what's the scoop on Gray?” Maeve said, her amber eyes lit with curiosity.

“I don't know. You know those special agents don't stay in one place long.”

Maeve shrugged. “But in the meantime, you two are hitting it off, right? I mean he's staying here, I've noticed, not at the cottage.”

Jennifer reddened a bit. “Yes, he's staying here. For the time being. He's not been reinstated yet. We've no word.”

“Jennifer,” Maeve said with a soft note in her voice. “I think he really cares for you. When you were in the hospital, the man was a lunatic.”

Jennifer laughed. “Lunatic, really?”

Maeve took a long drink of the coffee. “Ah, so good,” she said. “Yes, he cleaned a lot, worked really hard, went to see you every day. Even Sanj likes him.”

“That says something,” Jennifer finally said, after taking a sip of coffee. “He really does have high standards when it comes to other men.”

Jennifer had finally reached a good place with Sanj. It felt freeing to be in the same space with him and not be jealous or hurt remembering everything they once shared. She also felt like she'd come to a good place in her grief about Ren. She knew that she'd always love the man and always miss him. She had made an awkward peace with it.

“So, the million-dollar question is do you love him?” Maeve said.

“Love who?” Jennifer replied, only half-paying attention.

“Do you love Gray?”

Jennifer looked up into her best friend's face. Those same carefree freckles were scattered across her nose, her amber eyes still held depth, meaning, and orneriness, and her smile was still the most gentle and welcoming one Jennifer had ever seen.

“Well?” she persisted.

Jennifer felt a tear prick in her eyes.

“I am hopelessly in love with him,” she said with her voice cracking. “God help me.”