Calamity Jena (Invertary Book 4) (15 page)

15

The Donaldson women were known for their propensity to fall in love at first sight. It was a genetic failure passed down from generation to generation.

Claire’s mother swore she knew within an hour of meeting Claire’s father that he was the man for her. She’d only been seventeen at the time, and her father a more mature twenty-one. Against their parents’ wishes, they’d ran off to Gretna Green three weeks after their first kiss and got married by a blacksmith. Thirty-five years later, her mother’s face still lit up at the mention of her father’s name. Great-Aunty Fiona met her husband while waiting in a line for bread during the Second World War. Three days later she was Mrs Johnson. And Granny Bell won the prize for spontaneous decisions. Her husband proposed to her twenty minutes into their first date—albeit a chaperoned one—and she said yes. That marriage lasted sixty-one years and produced eight children.

Now that Claire thought about it, maybe the genetic trait leaned more towards finding men with no patience rather than falling in love at first sight. Whatever it was, it was still the family curse. Or blessing. Depending how you looked at it. Right at that minute, Claire wasn’t sure which it was.

She was also terrified it was happening to her.

Twenty-four hours after Grunt grabbed her outside The Scottie Dog pub and proclaimed her his, she was beginning to think he might be right.

Megan’s hand landed on Claire’s forehead, snapping her out of her daze. She shoved the hand away.

“What are you doing?” Claire frowned at Megan.

“Seeing if you’ve got a fever. I think you’re ill. Maybe a brain tumour. It’s the only explanation I have for the fact King Kong is sitting on our couch.”

“Stop calling him that.” She pulled an oversized glass bowl out of the kitchen cupboard and proceeded to fill it with Haggis-flavoured crisps. She wanted to give Samuel a wee taste of Scotland, and this was as close as she got, since she wasn’t the sister who could cook.

“I can’t believe you’re eating this stuff. It’s disgusting.” Megan popped one in her mouth anyway.

“Well, I’d have given him a nice Scottish dinner, but you wouldn’t cook and we had to make do with pizza.”

“So sue me. You should have taken him out for your date instead of hanging out here.”

Claire folded her arms over her fluffy white cowl-neck sweater. “Take him out where? The choice is the pub or a drive to Fort William, and Samuel says he has to stay in town.”

“Did he say why?”

Claire shrugged. “Something about being close in case his friend needs him.”

“You don’t think that’s suspicious? Why would Joe need him? This just proves my point. You don’t know anything about this guy, other than he has caveman tendencies and a pierced penis.”

Claire felt her cheeks heat. “Stop talking about his penis. You shouldn’t know anything about it. It’s private. It’s my penis.”

Megan threw up her hands in disgust. “Listen to yourself. His penis doesn’t belong to you. He doesn’t belong to you. You’re not behaving normally.” She let out a heavy sigh, running her hand through her long hair. They were dressed identically today: cream sweaters, blue jeans and brown leather boots. They never planned to look alike—half the time they didn’t even go clothes shopping together, but it just seemed to happen.

“I think,” Megan said, “you’re clinging to Samuel in an attempt to deal with Dad’s illness.”

Claire set the glasses she’d retrieved on the countertop. “How can you say that? Dad has been ill for eight years and Samuel isn’t the first boyfriend I’ve had.”

“Listen to yourself—he isn’t a boyfriend. He’s a middle-aged guy with stalker tendencies. What else would make you put up with him other than the stress of Dad getting worse?”

“Look, I know this situation is a little odd, but it’s not like he’s bullying me into spending time with him. I
want
to get to know him. There’s something about him.” A shiver went down her spine. “When he looks at me, I feel like I’m his whole world. I’ve never felt like that before.”

“See.” Megan pointed a finger at her. “Stalker. Stalkers are obsessed with their prey. They’re the whole world to the stalker. You’ve just proved my point.”

Claire rolled her eyes. “You sound like Matt.”

Megan shuddered and made the sign of the cross. “We make a pinkie swear
never
to say that. Matt does overprotective to the nth degree. I am nothing like Matt. I want you to have a boyfriend. I know you’re old enough for sex. Matt still thinks we’re ten. I’m not being unreasonable. You don’t know this guy, and he’s freaking terrifying.”

“Fine.” Claire lifted her chin. “Let’s go get to know him.”

She marched into the front room that used to be Magenta’s bedroom when she lived with them, but was now a living room. Grunt was sitting on the sofa watching the BBC World News. His arm was draped over the back of the couch and his legs were stretched out in front of him. He gave Claire a wicked smile that made her insides melt. Yum. She licked her lips. No matter what Megan said, cavemen had always appealed to Claire. She liked a little possessive behaviour from her men. And there was nothing sexier than a man who had the confidence to know what he wanted. Yeah, she liked that a whole lot. If Megan and her suspicious nature weren’t in the room, Claire would have crawled into Samuel’s lap to see if he tasted as good as he looked. The soft blue shirt he wore over faded jeans rippled on his shoulders as he looked between them. His eyes turned assessing. He nodded.

“Interrogation time,” he said. “Fire away.”

With an irritated huff, Megan sat in one of the armchairs, leaving Claire with the option of sitting in the other chair or curling up beside Samuel. Tempting as it was, she figured she should resist the urge to rub herself all over him like a cat. She sat in the chair.

“Tell us about yourself,” Megan ordered.

Grunt’s lips quirked into a little smile. “I’m thirty-one, never been married. Never wanted to get married. No kids. No living family.”

“Job?” Megan’s eyes narrowed.

He didn’t look away from her. “Security. Bodyguard stuff mainly. I was in the navy until two years ago. Got out, went travelling, hung around until Joe told me he was looking for a business partner. Been working with Joe for a couple of months.”

Claire smiled at him. “You went travelling once you got out the navy? Didn’t you travel while you were in it? I would have thought you’d be fed up with seeing new places.”

“Babe.” Grunt gave her a panty-melting grin. “We went to war zones. Not a lot of tourist crap to do on your downtime.”

“Oh, yeah.” She blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear.

Megan snapped her fingers. “Focus, King Kong. Do you have any sexual diseases?”

“Megan!” Claire glared at her sister.

Megan shrugged. “What? It’s a good question.”

Although it was clear Grunt was trying not to laugh, Claire was still annoyed.

“No sexual diseases. No diseases at all. Clean bill of health.”

Megan cocked an eyebrow. “Proof?”

Claire groaned and sank back into her chair. There was nothing she could do to stop Megan. She was the one-woman reincarnation of the entire Spanish Inquisition.

“I can get some,” Grunt said.

“Good.” Megan stuck her nose in the air. “I want to see documented proof before you go near my sister.”

Claire unwrapped the cowl neck of her sweater and buried her face in it.
I’m not here. I’m somewhere else. This is all a bad dream.

“Are you prone to violence?” Megan asked.

“Not unless it’s needed.”

“Would you ever hit a woman?”

Grunt growled. “I would never hit Claire.”

“Have you ever hit a woman?”

“No.” Yeah, now he sounded like a pissed-off gorilla.

“Would you ever force yourself on a woman?”

“No.” The menace in that one word made both twins’ eyes pop. “No real man forces himself on a woman. No means no.”

Claire trembled at his answer. She looked at Megan, telling her by telepathy to let the questions drop. As usual, the telepathy thing didn’t work. So much for that bloody mystical twin bond.

“Have you ever killed a man?” Megan said.

Claire made whimpering noises. This was worse than anything Matt would do. Way worse. She almost wished he was there.

“Yeah. Line of duty.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Megan!” Claire looked up to see her sister squinting at Grunt. Her eyes were aflame. There was no bringing her back. She was set on this.

Meanwhile, every muscle on Grunt’s body looked either poised to strike or flee. He held Megan’s eyes. “You would need to be a sick son of a bitch to enjoy something like that. The answer is no. I didn’t. I still see the faces and hear the screams of every guy I killed. I know it was necessary. I know it was my job, but if there had been another way, I would have found it.” He sat forward, placing his forearms on his knees. “I trained as a marine. We have honour. We don’t screw around.”

Claire’s eyes went wide. Marine? Weren’t they like the superheroes of the American armed forces? She wasn’t sure. She gnawed at her bottom lip and wondered if anyone would notice if she pulled out her phone and Googled the marines. She looked at the two hard faces. Mmm, maybe later.

Megan looked thoughtful. “Gold digger?”

“I have my own money. Savings. Investments.”

“What if Claire disagrees with you on something?”

He shrugged, relaxing back into the sofa again. “Then she disagrees. We work it out. We either compromise or one of us gets our own way. That’s how all relationships work.”

“So she’s allowed to disobey you,” Megan said.

Grunt actually laughed. “Who said I was looking for obedience? If I wanted a dog I’d buy one. She’s an adult. Got her own opinions. Makes her own choices. I’d be freaking bored if it was any different.”

Megan seemed to relax a little. “What are your intentions towards my sister?”

Claire looked at the ceiling and let out a long, low groan. When she looked back, Megan was frowning at her and Grunt was grinning. A delightfully sexy, knowing grin.

“My intentions?” He cocked an eyebrow at Claire, daring her to interrupt. She suddenly found her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth. “My intentions are to get to know her. To get her naked. To get her into my house. To get married to her. And to get her pregnant. That’s what I intend. Whether Claire wants that, or whether she likes what she sees in me, is something else, but I know my intentions.”

Claire sat frozen in Grunt’s heated gaze. Megan cleared her throat.

“Well, that’s very retro. As in 1950s mentality.” Megan lowered her voice. “Get woman. Keep woman. Woman must be barefoot and pregnant.”

Grunt’s lips quirked into a smile, but his eyes stayed on Claire. She felt the heat of his gaze melt her reserve.

Megan turned towards her sister. Claire smiled at her, but her eyes strayed back to Grunt.

“Claire, please tell me this is not attractive to you,” Megan said. Claire could practically hear her roll her eyes. “Does the word feminism mean anything to you? This is just like that movie
The Faculty,
where the teachers were possessed by aliens. There’s an alien in your body. It’s the only excuse for your loss of sanity over this guy.”

Claire grinned widely. “What can I say, Megan? It’s the muscles. I mean, look at those shoulders.”

Grunt playfully flexed his biceps for her.

“I think I just vomited a little in my mouth,” Megan said. “Fine, the interrogation is over. I don’t think he’s a serial killer, or a woman beater, but I can’t say for certain he’s sane.”

Grunt winked at Claire. She grinned widely. Out of the corner of her eye, Claire watched Megan stand. She headed towards the door. “I’ll leave you two alone, but I’ll be right upstairs if you need me. And remember. Keep your penis in your pants until the doc gives you the all-clear.”

Claire’s eyes broke away from Grunt to glare at her sister. “Don’t I get a say in whether he opens his pants or not? And will you stop saying penis? It gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Bloody hell, Claire, the more you hang around pre-schoolers the more immature you become. I take it back. You both belong in the fifties. Enjoy your little time warp together. And for your information, penis is a perfectly normal word. If you don’t stop complaining I’m going to start using all those other words that freak you out. Like vagina, vulva, cli…”

Claire wedged her fingers in her ears and sang nonsense at the top of her lungs. Megan rolled her eyes and left the room. When Claire looked back at Grunt, he was shaking his head at her as he laughed.