Page 15 of The Protection Agreement

She looks my way and takes the iPad from me, sitting back on the sofa. I watch as she searches and adds items to cart. I return to my desk and work, but every few minutes my eyes are back on her.

Grayson soon arrives with her sandwich. “Your turkey sandwich as requested, ma’am,” he says to her.

“Thank you. Please, call me Lexi.” She offers her hand for a handshake. He takes it and the asshole can’t help himself, kisses her hand with a fucking grin.

“Please, let me know if you need anything else,” he says, grinning and practically drooling over her.

“I’ve added everything I need to cart.” She hands the iPad to him. He takes it and turns to leave.

“Grayson,” I call out to him. He comes closer to my desk. “Put the iPad down,” I say to him. His brows lift in question, and I meet his questioning brow with a daring stare. He sets the iPad down and I watch him leave.

I pick up the iPad and see the shoe sizes and all her personal items that she has added to cart. I don’t want him to know anything about her. I place the order and change the delivery address to my home instead of the office like I normally do. I also change password and log out of the account. By the time I’m done, she has finished her sandwich and returned to the puzzle.

I sit back and watch her until my phone pings with Ice. I call him back.

“What’s up?”

“The sofa is delivered to your room.”

“Good, go and help Smith on the surveying.”

“And Lexi?”

“Stays with me,” I confirm. Forever is what I want to add. Wait, what? My inner thoughts pause. Where the fuck did that come from?

She is Jonah’s girl, I remind myself.

“Okay, boss. Talk later.”

I hang up and find myself ready to join her. “Can I join you?”

“I won’t advise it. Amrit and my dad were the only two who enjoyed helping me with the puzzle. They are both dead. I probably jinxed them,” she says without looking at me, but the sadness in her voice is undeniable.

“How did your dad die?”

“Stroke.”

“How old was he?”

“Seventy-five.”

“Amrit, I’m sure, knew the score, so their deaths aren’t on you.”

She looks at me. I can tell she wants to say something, but she doesn’t. “Does Jonah help you?” I ask.

She smiles, the first today.

“Jonah lacks the patience. He thinks I’m a bit crazy for puzzling this much.” Her voice is soft, not shaky.

I smile and find a piece that matches the edge and slide it in.

“What do you say?” I ask.

“I say, I’m just a dissectologist.” Her voice is quiet.

“A what?” My voice pitches high.

“A puzzle enthusiast, and I love a good challenge. Each puzzle is a challenge.”