Hard to Fight Page 51

“Jesus,” he mutters when I throw Peter in the back. “He fuckin’ stinks.”

“Who are you?” Peter cries.

“Shut up, and don’t touch anything.”

I laugh as I jump into the car. We take off and Raide keeps his eye on Peter, whose eyes are frantically darting from side to side.

“You even think about trying to get out, I’ll make sure I run over your legs before I get you back into the car,” Raide snaps.

“Raide,” I say, trying to fight a smile. “Don’t threaten the criminals.”

He snorts. “Criminal, my ass. This guy probably can’t even find his own dick.”

“I can!” Peter cries from the back. “You pig.”

I burst out laughing once more and Raide quickly joins me. We arrive at my work and I quickly discard Peter before joining Raide in the car again. Then we head over to my parents’ house. My dad adores Raide, he thinks he’s the shit and doesn’t hold back on letting Raide know. My mom is warming to him and even my sisters seem to be able to make decent conversation.

“How’s Kady?” Raide asks as we drive.

“She’s good, loving Fiji.”

Kady is on vacation in Fiji with some handsome guy she met a month ago. He’s a Latino hottie and swept her clean off her feet. When he invited her for a trip to Fiji, she jumped at the chance. I told her there’s a high chance he’s a serial killer, but she seemed to think I was the crazy one. She’s having the time of her life, so I guess that means he’s not a serial killer, which is a relief.

“What about the dude?”

I snort. “I can’t even pronounce his name.

He seems to be giving her the time of her life. She certainly hasn’t complained and she also hasn’t been chopped into a thousand tiny pieces, so I’d go as far as saying it’s going fantastically.”

Raide chuckles. “That girl is nuts.”

“Totally nuts.”

We pull up at my parents’ house and I climb out of the car. Raide joins me and we both head inside to have dinner with my parents. We do this once every two weeks and it seems to be helping me develop a stronger relationship with my mom and sisters.

“Gracie!” my dad says, swinging the door open before we even reach it. “How’s it going?”

I smile and embrace him. “Good, Dad.”

“Raide.”

“How’s it goin’?” Raide asks.

“Good. Let me show you the fish I got this afternoon.”

I sigh with another smile as Dad drags Raide through the house and out the back to his man cave. I enter the kitchen, where Gretchen is having a minor meltdown over her hair. She’s got a date tonight—gasp!—and her hair isn’t perfect. Mom is frantically trying to fix it while Stacy is staring with a smirk on her face that tells me she’s secretly enjoying this.

“Hi,” I call, walking in.

Mom looks up at me. “Grace, where have you been?”

She’s not asking because I’m late; she’s asking because my hair is now limp and ugly because Peter pushed me to the floor.

“I’ve been hunting down criminals, Mom. Just the norm.”

“Your hair,” she says gently.

I snort. “Mom, are you really surprised?”

She considers this. “No. Any chance you can help me fix Gretchen’s hair?”

“No!” Gretchen cries, then gives me a sympathetic expression. “Sorry, Grace, but you aren’t touching my hair.”

“Aw,” I say, lifting my hand and wiggling my dirty fingers at her. “Come on, sis.”

Her expression turns disgusted and she cries, “This is so bad.”

I snort-laugh, and Stacy can’t help herself, she joins in.

“At least give me some suggestions, you two!” Mom snaps. “Instead of laughing.”

“Okay,” I say, walking to the sink and washing my hands. “Let’s take a look.”

“Do not put your hands in my hair, Grace!” Gretchen warns.

“Yes, queen.”

She mumbles something and I stand by Mom, staring at my sister’s perfect hair. They’ve tried to put it in an updo, but it looks like a bird’s nest on top.

“Get your hair curler, and curl those ends. It’ll take away that, ah, bird’s nest look.”

“What?” Gretchen squeals. “Mom you said it was fine, just a little off.”

Mom shoots me a look and I give her a sympathetic smile. “It’s really not so bad,” I tell Gretchen. “Stacy, go and get the curling iron.”

Stacy gets up and returns a moment later with her curler. I get to work on Gretchen’s hair, much to her disgust. An hour later I’m done. I step back and smile, I’m impressed. I’ve always been good with tools and equipment. I guess that extends to beauty equipment, too. Her hair now has soft curls at the top instead of a strawy mess.

“Wow,” Mom says. “That actually looks really good.”

“Show me!” Gretchen cries.

Stacy takes a photo with her phone and shows Gretchen. “Well, Grace, you might just have some of our blood in you after all.”

Another smile. Yes, things are definitely better in my world.

Epilogue

“Can I open my eyes?”

“No.”

“Raide!”

“Hush up, woman.”

Raide’s hands are on my shoulders and he’s leading me up the trail where we had our first date, the one near his cabin. We’re up here for the weekend, it has become our thing since we started officially dating. If it wasn’t for my job, I could easily lock myself up here with Raide and never, ever leave.

“Did you buy burgers again?”

He chuckles and slaps my bottom. “Be quiet.”

“Seriously, you’re freaking me out. Are you going to throw me off the cliff?”

“Tempted.”

I laugh and he chuckles, low and sexy. “Right, stand here and don’t fuckin’ move.”

“Swearing is not very romantic.”

He snorts and I hear him shuffling around. After a moment, he takes my shoulders and moves me again. He takes me to another stop. Then he reaches up and takes my blindfold off. I stare at the scene in front of me, and my heart melts. I can tell the effort he’s put in this time, because it looks amazing.

There’s a table for two set up under the stars. Candles and roses are perfectly placed on the top, and the chairs even have their own decorative covers. There are plates covered in silver lids and wine chilling in a bucket beside it. Soft music plays in the background.

My heart melts all over again and I turn to Raide, throwing my arms around his neck. “You did all this?” I breathe.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, looking down at me. “You told me you wanted a romantic date, I’m doin’ it.”

I beam. “I think I love you, Raide Knox.”

“Baby, I know you do.”

I chuckle as he leads me to the table. He sits me down and lifts the lids off our meal. No burgers this time; instead, he’s got steak topped with mushrooms, served with green beans and potato. Yum. He sits and I smile across the table at him, completely blown away.

“Stop smiling at me like that,” he says.

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