“But why me? Why not the police or the Catholic church or even Helping Hands?”
She took a long minute to answer. “I don’t really know. You were always kind to me, Gray, probably the kindest person I ever met. I didn’t know what would happen to Jade if I left her anywhere else. But I knew you’d do the right thing. And look,” she added with a nod at Kara. “You did.”
GRAYSON STAYED IN THE living room with Dorrie and the baby while Kara talked on her cell phone in the kitchen.
“This is a nice place,” Dorrie said, looking around at the small but impeccable home. Her cheeks colored. “Are you two, like, a thing?”
He had no idea how to answer. He’d like to be a thing with Kara. Actually, he’d like to be more than that. “We’re friends,” he finally said, “and she’s a good neighbor to have up here.”
“But...?” Dorrie pressed.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Until yesterday morning, I’d never even been inside her house.” He glanced at Kara, who was speaking urgently into the phone. She looked up, caught his eye, and smiled, and his whole heart did a backflip in response. In less than twenty-four hours, everything had changed. “She’s been terrific with Jade. I wouldn’t have known the first thing to do, but she did.”
“Is she a mom?”
He nodded. A grandma too, he almost added, but he wasn’t sure Dorrie would believe him.
Kara hung up and returned to the living room. “Missy Kennedy runs Briarwood House across the river.”
Dorrie looked puzzled. Grayson frowned, trying to place it. “Upriver from town? Brick building set back in a bunch of trees?”
“Yes. It looks like a hotel from the road, and it is, but it’s private, has a locked gate and a security system that rivals the White House. Missy’s careful about who she lets stay there. She has a room for you,” she said to Dorrie. “You and Jade can stay there tonight and tomorrow, if you need to, until we—” She stopped and corrected herself. “Until you figure out what you want to do.” She leaned against the couch, close to Grayson but not quite touching him. He could feel the heat from her leg inches away.
“How much will it cost?” Grayson asked. “I’ll pay. Doesn’t matter.”
“Missy and I do favors for each other now and then. I explained the situation. There won’t be any charge.”
“I can’t just stay here?” Dorrie asked.
“It’s a small place,” Kara said. “But more than that, I don’t want Travis to come looking for you. If he thinks you’re here, or at Grayson’s place, he might start some trouble. He won’t find you at Missy’s.” She glanced outside, where the faint light of dawn touched the trees. “Better go now, though. She’s expecting you.” She touched Grayson’s shoulder. “Do you know where it is? Want me to go with you?”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll take them. I’m sure you’re exhausted.” On impulse, he stood and guided Kara back into the kitchen, all the way to the front door and out of earshot of Dorrie. He slid both hands down her arms and wrists and laced his fingers through hers. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Of course. Whatever I could do.”
He brushed the tip of her nose with his and pulled her tight, their chests and hips meeting until he felt the burn of anticipation. “Can I come back here after?”
Without waiting for her response, he bent and kissed her, only a touch at first, then deeper, more searching, as if looking for the answers with his eyes closed. He was so damn glad he hadn’t had a drop of whiskey at the bar. All he wanted Kara to taste was him.
“You better come back here,” she said against his mouth, and they were the sweetest words Grayson had heard in a long time. “Better get going, though.” She nudged him away. “I might be in bed by the time you do.”
“You wear pajamas or sleep in the nude?”
“Hurry back and you’ll find out.”
5:00 a.m.
It was like a scene out of a movie, Grayson thought as he drove Dorrie and Jade through the near-dawn light. They’d taken Kara’s car on her insistence, because the car seat wouldn’t work in his truck and Dorrie had left her vehicle at The Last Call. Dorrie sat in the back next to a sleeping Jade, which made him feel a little like a chauffeur, but that was okay. Gave him time to get lost in his thoughts, most of which revolved around Kara in varying degrees of nightwear, his favorite being none at all. In his fantasy, she smiled up at him from her bed with flushed cheeks and mussed hair, reaching for him with one hand as she—
A deer jumped in front of the car, and he jammed on the brakes to avoid it. “Shit. Shoot. Sorry.” He glanced in the rearview mirror. “She okay?”
“Fine. Didn’t even wake up.”
This was the baby who hadn’t slept more than two hours at a stretch, who had woken a cranky Travis and been the supposed reason for his getting fired? Grayson shook his head. Maybe Dorrie was lying to cover for him. Or maybe Jade just had women’s intuition from the womb. Maybe she knew if she or Dorrie slept longer than that, Travis might do something rash. He sped up. The sooner he got them both to Briarwood House, the better.
He coasted through the blinking stoplight, crossed the river, and headed north. After about a mile, a small, inconspicuous sign rose out of the trees on the right. He turned into the next driveway and was met with a tall wrought-iron gate. It ran the width of the driveway and disappeared into the trees, and Grayson bet it wrapped around the entire property. He didn’t know much about Missy Kennedy, but someone had put a hell of a lot of money into the security of this place.
He pulled up to a speaker box and pressed the button beneath it.
“Briarwood House.”
“It’s Grayson Hollister. Uh, Kara McGarrity called you? About Dorrie Slocum and her daughter?”
“Can you hold up your ID to the camera, please?”
Grayson fished out his wallet and did so.
“Thanks. Let me open the gate. Pull all the way around the building to the back. I’ll be waiting for you at the green door.”
“Okay.”
There was a buzz, a loud clank, and then the gate swung open and he drove through, checking in his rearview mirror to make sure no one had followed them. Not a car in sight. Good. Wherever Travis had ended up after leaving The Last Call, it wasn’t here.
Hope he’s passed out in a ditch somewhere and a squatter takes his gun, Grayson thought with grim, hopeful satisfaction. He wished he’d had the chance to take a few swings at the guy back in the bar, knowing what he did now about what Travis had done to Dorrie and Jade.
The driveway curved up to a modest brick building with what looked like a central foyer and two long, one-story wings that stretched out in either direction. The main entrance was a wide, white door with a black-lettered sign welcoming them. A bright light illuminated the door, the steps, and the walkway leading to it.
Grayson continued around back, where a smaller door sat open. No lights or welcome signs back here, just shadows. He couldn’t quite tell if the door was green, but a woman stepped out as he approached, so he guessed he’d found the right place.
He pulled up and parked, leaving the engine running and his hands on the wheel. Just in case.
The woman shaded her eyes and peered into the back seat.
“You sure this is safe?” Dorrie asked in a low voice.
“It’s okay,” Grayson said. “Kara wouldn’t steer us wrong.”
He opened his door and stepped out, drawing himself to his full height. “Grayson Hollister,” he said with an outstretched hand.
“Missy Kennedy.” She was tall, close to five-foot-ten or eleven if he had to guess, and she spoke with a faint British accent. Fifty or so, with long hair and a long dress that swept the ground. “These are my guests?”
He nodded and opened the back door. Dorrie blinked up at them like an animal caught in headlights.
“Hello, hon. I’m Missy. You’ve nothing to worry about here. I have a nice quiet room for the two of you at the back of the house, right next
to my own suite.” She extended a hand. “Can I help you out? Sounds like you’ve had quite a night.” Her voice was gentle and kind, and Dorrie nodded after a moment. Grayson’s worries subsided.
“Would you like me to take the baby?”
Dorrie nodded again and Missy walked around the car, expertly unsnapped the car seat, and lifted it out. “Oh, she’s beautiful.”
Dorrie gave a wan smile.
“You have anything else with you, hon? A bag or a purse or anything?”
“No. I had to... leave kinda quick.”
“No problem at all. The room has a robe and some extra undies and socks, and I’m pretty sure I have some clothes your size you can borrow.”
“You’ll be okay?” Grayson asked. It had happened so quickly, the drive and their arrival and Missy swooping in to take care of them.
“Sure.” Dorrie bit her lip and looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. The pitch of night had changed to dawn’s thin light, but shadows still cloaked the trees and the grounds. Something rustled in the undergrowth, close by and then, a moment later, farther away. An owl hooted. A semi rumbled by on the interstate.
“You have my number. Call or text anytime, it doesn’t matter.” All day and all night, he’d been trying to find Jade’s mother, trying to find a place for Jade that was better than his front porch or Kara’s kitchen table, but now that he had, he didn’t want to let her go. She wasn’t his—not by blood, anyway—but damn if she hadn’t worked her way under his skin. He tucked the blanket around her chin, then pulled out his wallet and gave Missy a fistful of cash.
“You don’t need to,” she began, but he waved her away and jumped back in the car before he could change his mind and say he wanted Dorrie and Jade to stay with him after all.
You did the right thing, he told himself as he circled around and left the wrought-iron gate behind him. They’re better off here.
He repeated the words, mile by mile, until he felt better. Briarwood House disappeared behind him, then the river, and then Main Street, until when he finally drove up the mountain, all he could think about was Kara.
DESPITE WHAT SHE’D said to Grayson, Kara couldn’t sleep. Her mind spun with thoughts of Dorrie and Jade. Would Jade cry? Did she have enough diapers, formula, clothes, love? How long would they be able to stay at Missy’s? What would Dorrie do, in the long run, about Travis? Where was Travis?
But in between all those thoughts were other thoughts, more basic ones that revolved around Grayson, and they came with desire and hope and apprehension. It had been over a year since she’d slept with a man. Over ten since she’d been in anything she could call a relationship. After Drake, there’d been only one: Carson Allemand, a kind, older man who ran Helping Hands before she took it over. They’d dated for a few months, dinner and movies and one overnight trip to Memphis, but she could’ve told him from the start it wouldn’t amount to anything. She didn’t have anything left to give to a man, not that way, not entirely, with her heart and soul and future laid out in a way that included him.
Was Grayson different? Was this time different? She was pushing forty, and she’d pretty much resigned herself to thinking single life was the way to go. She didn’t need a man, that was for sure. She could take care of herself just fine. But once in a while, and certainly tonight, she wanted one.
Correction—she wanted Grayson.
She glanced at the clock and hurried into her bedroom to change from her jeans into a loose tank top and a pair of cut-off pajama bottoms that hit just below her ass. Maybe tonight, finally, she could trust her feelings and stop thinking. Stop overanalyzing and let down her guard.
Lights swept over the foyer as he pulled back into her driveway, and she froze where she was, halfway between the living room and her bedroom. She hadn’t brushed her teeth or her hair, but now it was too late, and he was walking through the front door and taking her into his arms like they’d been apart a hundred years instead of an hour.
“You’re still up,” he murmured into her ear, his breath hot as it moved down her neck.
“Mm-hmm.”
His hands slipped down her body and found the shorts, the bare skin just beneath them, and he pulled back from her long enough to give an admiring look. “I like these.” His fingers tickled the curve of her bottom and spread chills down her thighs. She went wet in a matter of seconds. “I like what’s inside them even more.”
She drank him in—or rather, she devoured him, nipping at his lower lip, tasting his tongue, making him pant and wanting more, wanting to hear him groan, beg, tell her exactly what he’d do to her. She pressed her hips to his, to the hardness growing there, until he growled and lifted her off her feet entirely.
“Tell me to stop. In another minute I won’t be able to.”
But she didn’t. She only wrapped her legs around him and kissed him again, pulling her fingers through his hair and whimpering as he cupped her ass. At that, he carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed. She hadn’t turned on any lights, but the curtains filtered the sunrise so the room looked like spun sugar and cotton candy.
His eyes were dark as he stood above her, expression daggered through with desire. “You know how fucking hard I am right now?”
She reached up and unbuttoned his jeans. “Show me.”
He pulled off his shirt and in the next instant dropped his jeans to the floor. In all its magnificence, his cock pointed straight at her, straining at his boxers. She drew circles around the head until he groaned aloud. “Kara, you have no idea—”
She stopped, but only long enough to pull off her own clothes. For an instant, out of habit, she crossed her arms over herself. Baring herself in front of any man took courage, but this man, head-to-toe muscle and sex appeal, was almost too much to bear up close. Then she took a deep breath. Trusted him. Trusted herself.
She dropped her arms and touched his chest, tracing the faint line of hair to where it met his cock. Then again, top to bottom, until he caught her hand and kissed the palm. Slowly, he eased his way onto the bed and lowered his mouth to her breast. There was nothing between them except cool air. Then his hands. Then his mouth again, feasting on her until she couldn’t think straight. She wanted him desperately, and she twisted in his embrace, trying to pull him closer, needing him inside her, but he only slid his hands to her waist and suckled her neck.
“I’m gonna make you come,” he said, and then he moved down the length of her, peeling off her panties. All she could do was take fistfuls of sheet in her hands as he nudged her legs open and settled himself there. There was a moment of old fear, a jab of panic at letting a man see her naked. But it didn’t last. It was there and gone, and when she looked down at the bunched muscles of his shoulders, the brilliant, complicated map of tattoos that covered so much of him, all she saw was Grayson.
He made love to her languidly, as if tasting each inch of her once, twice, deciding if he wanted more and then returning. The first time she came, the wave rocked her. She quivered on his tongue as he lapped up the juices that ran down her thigh. He murmured approval, and she’d barely come down from the high when he started again, this time using his fingers to find the spot deep inside her and pressing, touching, stroking, until the climax ripped through her and she felt it in her chest, her temples, the very top of her head.
“My God,” she said, “you’re amazing.” The stories told about him in town were apparently 100 percent true.
“I’m just getting started.” He rolled away from her only long enough to pull a condom from his jeans. Then he braced himself above her, his tattoos a rainbow of colors against the ceiling, and buried himself inside her.
Oh, hell. His cock was enormous, and the full sensation of being stretched so tight was breathtaking, but whether that was the years since she’d been with a man or simply the great, gorgeous size of him, she didn’t know or care.
He waited a moment, letting her adjust, letting her soften to him in degrees, and then he began to move. She clutc
hed his back, digging in, knowing she was probably leaving marks and not caring, because oh dear God, this man was so deep inside her, making everything burn, turning her high and hot until without warning she came again, a rush that clenched around him. When she looked at him, she saw the effort on his face, the agony of holding back.
This was more than anything she’d ever experienced with a man, a different plane of physical intimacy, baring herself to someone who could control her and yet who was begging for release. Needing her. Wanting her. Allowing her all the power.
“Go on,” she whispered. “Come inside me. Please.”
At that, Grayson groaned, cried out her name, and released himself in waves.
6:00 a.m.
They lay in the afterglow, limbs wound together, as the sun rose outside and filled the bedroom with light. Grayson couldn’t recall a time after sex when he hadn’t either fallen asleep or climbed out of bed with excuses. This time he did neither. He just lay there with Kara’s head on his chest, listening to her breathe.
He couldn’t move. He didn’t want to move. He wanted to lie there and replay every moment from the last twenty hours. Then he wanted to fast-forward and do it all again.
Where the hell had this come from? This satisfied desire?
He played with her hair and breathed in the scent of her shampoo. Maybe it hadn’t been sex. Maybe it had been something else. Something more.
She lifted her head and caught him staring. “Hey, you.”
“Hey, yourself.”
She lay on her side, curled into him. “That was pretty amazing.”
“Agreed.”
He wanted to say more and couldn’t. She rocked him, and he kept thinking that in a minute, she’d realize how out of his league she really was.
He ran the back of his hand down her arm, over a thin white scar that stretched the length of her wrist. He’d noticed it before, but in the thin, clear light, it stood out more than usual.
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