Someone. “Wyatt.”
“He set it up before you left for the trip. He wanted you to be able to come home without worries.”
She shook her head, the hollow ache that had been a constant presence since she’d gotten back from the trip seemed to yawn even wider. “I don’t even know what to do with that.”
Grant gave her knee a squeeze. “You do what you want, darlin’. You can go back to your life. Get your old job back, go to school.”
She certainly could, though she wouldn’t need the job for the money. She had a two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar check in her cabin. Wyatt apparently wasn’t so great at math because he’d added an extra zero. She couldn’t bring herself to cash it though.
She forced a smile for Grant, knowing that was the appropriate response to the situation. But all the things she’d been so happy with only a few weeks ago, the existence she’d been so desperate to hold on to, now seemed painted in colorless strokes in her mind—a faded version of her happy ending. “Thanks, Grant. Really. I can’t even tell you how much it means that you helped.”
“Anytime, darlin’.” He put a hand out to her and pulled her to her feet as he rose. “But that’s not why I came out here to talk to you.”
“Oh?”
He cocked his head toward the main house at The Ranch. “I know you stopped taking clients, but there’s a certain college football player in there who says he really needs to see you. What do you want me to tell him?”
She frowned. “Hawk’s here?”
“Yeah, apparently he took it upon himself to drive out here when the receptionist told him you weren’t taking appointments.”
She stuck her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, staring up at the house. If Hawk had gone through all that trouble, something must be wrong. No way could she walk away from that guy if he needed her. “I’ll go see him.”
Grant smiled. “Kid got to you, huh?”
She sighed, a sound she found herself making a lot lately. “He’s a good guy with a good heart. I just wish I could take away all that shame he carries around with him, make his life a little easier.”
Grant laid his arm over her shoulder and guided her toward the house. “You know, darlin’, I think I was wrong. Caring that much about your sub, wanting to take away his pain through pain . . . you do have a true domme’s will in you.”
She leaned into his shoulder, the big brother vibe from Grant unfamiliar but welcome. “Too bad I have a submissive heart.”
He opened the door for her with a sympathetic smile. “That’s not a bad thing, Kelsey. It’s a beautiful gift. You just have to make sure you put it in the right hands.”
She looked away, unable to let her mind go there. “What room is he in?”
“Dungeon B. And be warned, he didn’t come alone.”
“What do you mean?”
“You should probably see for yourself.”
Uh-oh. Kelsey made her way up to the second floor, not even bothering to stop by the locker room to change and grab her gear. She usually never let her clients see her in street clothes, but the way Hawk had come here unannounced and with a guest needed to be discussed first. It wasn’t like him to push the rules like that. But when she looked through the viewing window of Dungeon B, she forgot all about discussing the rules.
Hawk sat on one of the benches aligned along the far wall, his head bowed. Next to him was a pretty dark-eyed girl with hair down to her waist. She was gripping Hawk’s hand so hard her knuckles were pale, but her expression was pure determination. Oh, shit. This can’t be good.
Kelsey turned the knob and walked in, drawing their attention her way. Some combination of relief and desperation crossed Hawk’s face, but the girl’s hard expression fell instantly. Her lips pressed together as if she were fighting tears. She turned to Hawk with a choked whisper. “You could’ve told me she was so pretty. Goddammit, Hawk.”
“Baby,” he said, shaking his head miserably. “It’s not about that.”
Kelsey took a deep breath. “Hawk, would you like to tell me what’s going on?”
He raked a hand through his already messy hair and stood. “I’m sorry”—he swallowed hard and glanced back at his girl—“Mistress.”
The girl winced like she’d been slapped.
“I know I shouldn’t have come like this, but Christina, she—”
“I demanded he show me.” Christina rose and brushed invisible lint off her khaki skirt before looking up, as if biding time and building courage to speak more. “He tried to break up with me, and I wanted to know why.”