Page 6 of Dangerous Secret

According to the article she’d read about him, Grayson had been a SEAL. Knowing that, she wasn’t surprised that he wore his blond hair military short. After his smile, his brown eyes were his best feature. Except they weren’t the more common dark brown. His were the color of her favorite candy…caramel. If she’d met him before Anthony, she would have definitely been interested in him. But she wasn’t that girl anymore.

“Wait here,” he said when they stepped out of the building. “The pavement’s hot. I’ll bring the Jeep around.”

She grinned when he tiptoe-hopped across the parking lot. He jumped into a Jeep that had no top and no doors, which explained why he’d said he couldn’t lock their things up. This day was turning out to be nothing like what she’d expected.

When he stopped the Jeep with the passenger side closest to her, she managed to climb in without losing too much of her dignity. Minutes later, he turned into a driveway of a house on stilts right on the beach.

“Um, is it okay if we park here?”

Amusement flashed in his eyes as he glanced at her. “I know the owner.”

“That roof is awesome.” It was a tin roof that was a copper-and-green patina.

He glanced up. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool. Hang tight for a minute.”

Already, sweat dripped down her back from the heat. After a moment of hesitation, she slipped off her sweater. Her sweaters—a shield even in the summer—were so mucha part of her now that she felt naked without it. She almost put it back on, but it would be ridiculous to walk on the beach bundled up as if it were winter.

He reached into the back, bringing out a pair of flip-flops. “These will be big on you, but they’ll keep your feet from burning until we get down to the water.”

“What about you?”

“I’m used to walking on hot sand.”

“Thanks.” She slipped them on, and they were definitely big. As they headed to the shoreline, she chuckled.

He glanced at her with raised brows. “What?”

“I feel like I’m walking in clown shoes. How big are your feet, anyway?” As soon as she asked the question, she cringed. Would he think she was making fun of him? Conditioned to expect criticism or a sarcastic reprimand when she said something inappropriate, she hurried to say, “I’m sorry. That was rude of me.”

He frowned at that. “It was?”

“Yes. I shouldn’t have made fun of your feet.” Sometimes she hated herself. Things that shouldn’t be voiced came out of her mouth before she thought better of it. Then when she did, she loathed that she instantly turned into a doormat. A kicked puppy. That was what she was. Afraid of being kicked again. Her gaze snapped up to his when he chuckled.

“My feet are pretty big.” He wiggled his toes in the sand. “Size thirteen, by the way.”

“Oh, okay.” He must think she was a ninny.

“You can leave the flip-flops here,” he said as he rolled up his pants legs when they were a few feet from the water. “We’ll pick them up on the way back.”

“What if someone steals them?”

“They won’t, but if Bigfoot strolls by and decides he wants them, I’ll buy another pair.”

She laughed. He was silly. After she slipped them off, they walked along the water in silence for a few minutes. The ocean was cool on her feet, and the sea breeze swirled the hem of her dress around her legs. An odd sense of calm that she hadn’t felt in a long time washed over her. She should make the hour drive to the beach at least once a week.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “Tell me your story.”

How much did she need to tell him to get him to help her?

Chapter 3

The idea to take her out of the office where she was uncomfortable had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, made when she took in the view from the window with longing in her eyes. Grayson likened handling Harlow Pressley to that of gentling an abused animal.

He still wasn’t sure he was willing to put The Phoenix Three in the middle of a custody dispute, but he was coming around to the idea that hers wasn’t a typical he said/she said case. From her wary eyes and the way she’d flinched a few times, she’d been the victim of her husband’s abuse. That was his impression at this point, but he could be jumping to conclusions and she was just a good actress. If he was right, he was going to love teaching her ex a thing or two.

“So,” he said after they’d walked along the shore for a few minutes. “Tell me your story.” Her steps faltered, and she lowered her gaze to the water. If he was reading her right, she was debating what and how much to tell him. “You need to not only be honest with me but to tell me everything. I can’t help you if you don’t.”

“I know. It’s just that I’m embarrassed by what I let him turn me into. It’s hard to admit that I didn’t leave when I should have. The me you see here now isn’t the me I once was.”

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