by Mia Sheridan
I glanced over at Grace and she looked uncertain, biting her lip and waiting for me to start the truck. I was making her nervous. I didn't like that either. I forced myself to relax.
It wasn't like this was just any woman. This was Grace. I almost felt like, in part, she had been with me all along. A constant in my heart, if not in my life. It was a thought, but it was also a feeling and all of a sudden, having her with me almost felt like a priority–like I'd be stronger with her. Stronger for what was going on with Josh, stronger for everything. It surged through my body, filling me with purpose and scaring the fuck out of me at the same time. There were a lot of things standing in our way, just like the last time. But suddenly, as my eyes took her in, all my doubts, from only a few minutes before, fell to the wayside and it seemed critical that I at least try to see where things could go this time. I couldn't explain it, it didn't make a whole lot of sense. But in that moment, the feeling was so strong, I accepted it.
"Guess what?" I finally asked.
Her eyes darted to mine in the dim light of the car. "What?" she asked back, tilting her head.
"I live about five minutes from you, in this same neighborhood." When I had gotten into my truck and put Grace's address into my GPS, I had almost laughed out loud. She hadn't written her zip code down, and so I didn't realize until that moment that she too lived in Summerlin, a neighborhood Northwest of Vegas. Something about it struck me as funny. Apparently, her pull even spoke to me in some psychic manner. I was fucked. Either that, or fate was just messing with me.
"Really?" she asked on a smile. Then she frowned. I wondered what she was thinking, but I didn't ask, just looked forward on a smile and started the truck. My body relaxed.
I drove toward the strip, both of us silent for the first five minutes.
"So this is really weird, isn't it?" she finally asked.
I chuckled. "What?"
"Us, running into each other that way, after all this time. It's just… almost… unbelievable."
I nodded, but paused. "Yes and no."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"It's hard to explain. I was shocked, but almost not surprised at all. Maybe I always expected to see you again." I looked over at her.
She raised an eyebrow. "This is some kind of weird stalking thing, isn't it?"
I laughed. "I don't know. You tell me." I looked over at her, feigning suspicion.
She laughed too. "It's been quite the operation… tracking you all over the world." She turned her body so she was facing me in the cab of the truck. "Speaking of which, Kate said you just moved here a couple months ago. Where were you deployed?"
I looked over at her. "I served in the middle east," I said.
She nodded. "I mean, wow, a SEAL, Carson. I'm so impressed. What made you decide to go into the Navy?"
I paused for a minute, wondering if complete honesty was a good idea or a bad idea. Finally, I answered, "You."
"Me?" she breathed out.
I nodded. "After that weekend, Grace, I wanted to be more. I wanted to have something to offer someone like you." I shrugged and looked over at her. She was staring at me with wide eyes, her mouth slightly open as if she had been about to say something, but took it back.
"Anyway," I said, "the Navy idea kind of came to me in a blinding flash of light and I just did it before I really had time to think about it." I chuckled.
She let out a breath. "I don't know what to say. I, well, I'm… honored that you consider me the catalyst for changing your life in such a positive way." She paused. "That sounds completely dorky. I'm just… thank you for telling me that."
I grinned over at her. "Don't take too much credit. I did all the hard work."
She laughed. "Yes, you certainly did."
We both smiled at each other in the dim cab.
"So," she said, "how did you end up in security in Vegas?"
"Me and my buddy Leland got injured in the same ambush. His family owns Trilogy. He got medically discharged and asked me if I'd like to come to Vegas with him and take the head of security job. It sounded like a good opportunity." I shrugged. There was so much more to it than that, but I couldn't tell her about that part, not now.
"Where did you get injured? What happened?" she asked quietly.
"I was shot in the back," I said. "Luckily the bullet went straight in and out, minimal internal damage. And my hands were burned." I held one up but in the dim light of the car, even I could barely see the scarring on the palm side of my fingers.
Grace sucked in a breath. "My God…"
"Wait," I said, changing the subject, "you just got my whole story out of me in the car ride to dinner. What are we gonna talk about now?"
She laughed. "We'll probably figure something out."
I smiled as I pulled into a parking garage and drove up a couple levels before finding a spot. In just a few minutes, things were easy and comfortable with Grace again.
We got out of my truck and started walking to the elevator.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"Well, I didn't exactly make reservations. But I have three or four ideas for you to choose from that shouldn't need one."
"Can we do hot dogs?" she blurted out.
I laughed and looked over at her. She was grinning.
"Seriously?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"What? You don't like hot dogs anymore?" she asked as we came to a stop in front of the elevator.
"I love hot dogs. I just don't think I've had a hot dog since… well, since I had a hot dog with you."
She laughed. "Me neither! Let's do it."
I looked over at her. God, she was so pretty. My hands were itching to touch her. I fisted them at my sides.
A couple seconds later, the elevator doors opened and we stepped in. As it jolted, starting its descent, my eyes met Grace's and we both laughed, knowing exactly what the other was thinking. Here I was riding an elevator with Grace Hamilton again. Life was wild.
We stepped off when the doors opened and walked to the entrance to the strip. It was December and the air was cool, but not cold, perfect walking weather.
"Do you come to the strip a lot?" I asked as we headed toward Pink's.
She shook her head. "Rarely. My best friend, Abby, and her husband, came in for Thanksgiving and I took them here to walk around, but Abby's pregnant so it was the tame Vegas tour."
"The roommate you lived with when I first met you, right?"
She glanced over at me, looking slightly surprised, and nodded her head.
"Your fiancé doesn't ever take you to get a hot dog?" I had to bring him up. I had to know what her relationship with him was like. The word itself, fiancé, told a story. But it didn't necessarily tell the whole story.
She bit her lip, not looking over at me. "Alex is more of a homebody, I guess you'd say," is all she said, but I thought a look of disappointment swept over her features. Interesting.
We got to Pink's and I held the door open for her. Grace grinned at me as she walked through. The hostess led us to a table and I pulled Grace's chair out for her. "M'lady," I said.
She laughed as I scooted her close to the table and took my own seat. We both took off our jackets and when the waiter came over, we both ordered a beer.
"So tell me more about why you decided to become a prosecutor," I said.
She looked down and played with her napkin for a minute before responding, "Actually, Carson, I have you to thank for that. After we talked about it here," she waved her arm toward the window, indicating Vegas, "I realized that it was what I really wanted. And I made it happen. So… thank you."
I leaned back in my chair and smiled. "Really?"
"Yeah, really." She smiled at me. "Anyway, I took my first job in D.C. but there just weren't any openings in the court I wanted to be in, and so I started applying to different cities and ended up here. And I love it. I really, really love it."
I smiled at her. "That's great, Grace."
She blinke
d at me, looking like something had just occurred to her. "Your friend…" she said.
"We can talk about that another time, okay? It's a weird situation, but… let's just catch up tonight."
She nodded, pursing her lips slightly. The waiter came over with our beers and took our orders.
When the waiter walked away, Grace said, "That's what you ordered the last time." She grinned.
"I know. You ordered the same thing too."
She nodded and laughed.
I held my beer up. "To fate," I said. "She's a tricky bitch." I meant that in more ways than I could explain.
She huffed out a breath and raised her eyebrows. "That's for dang sure," she said and clinked my bottle, smiling over at me and tilting her head.
Our food came a few minutes later and Grace dove right in. "See," she said around a mouthful of chili cheese dog, "I learned from last time."
I laughed at her and dove into mine too. I could feel cheese sticking to my chin and something gloppy on the side of my mouth.
Grace put her hand over her mouth and laughed out loud, her eyes dancing. "How in the world are you not taken yet, Carson Stinger?" She laughed. I grinned at her but then the smile faded from her face and she just kept looking at me, her eyes wandering down to my mouth as I wiped it with my napkin. She licked her bottom lip and I felt my cock jump in my pants. Fuck.
"Grace–" I started.
"Anyway!" she said brightly, crossing her legs under the table, "this was a really good idea. I need to eat more hot dogs." She stopped and furrowed her brow. "I mean, you know, you can never eat too many hot dogs." She frowned more. "I mean, you probably can. There is probably a recommended hot dog limit, but I fall too far beneath–"
I laughed out loud. "Okay, Buttercup, you can stop now," I said.
Her eyes flew to mine and her cheeks flushed pink. We stared at each other in silence for several beats before she finally whispered, "I missed that."
"Me too," I said quietly.
"Why do you call me Buttercup, Carson?" she asked quietly, her eyes growing even bigger.
I smiled slightly. "Maybe it's because you're as pretty as a flower," I said.
She stared at me for a couple beats, opened her mouth as if to say something and then closed it again. She shook her head slightly as if clearing her mind. "Carson, I'm engaged," she said.
My jaw tensed. "Yeah, Grace, I know that."
She searched my face and then shook her head slightly and looked down again. "I'm sorry, that sounded… bitchy or something. I didn't mean to imply that you–"
"Grace," I interrupted, "it's okay. Really. I got you, all right? Let's talk about something else. I'm having a good time with you."
She nodded, smiling slightly. "Okay, thank you."
I nodded and then took another big, sloppy bite of my hot dog. She grinned and then did the same with hers.
We finished our food and the waiter came over and cleared the table. We chatted about living in Vegas for a few minutes as we each finished our beers. When the waiter came over with our bill, I paid and we started to get up to leave, putting on our coats.
"This was fun," Grace said.
I smiled at her. "Yeah, it was. I've wondered for a lot of years how you were doing and it's great to see you so happy."
She paused, smiling, but it looked strained. "I am. And same here. It's great to see you doing so well, looking so… well."
We stared at each other for a few beats and then she moved, breaking the spell. We headed for the door.
"Do you want to walk past the Bellagio fountain?" I asked her. "For old time's sake?" I smiled down at her.
She laughed. "Why not? I haven't been there since… well, you know since, you." She glanced up at me, her smile fading.
We walked in silence for a few minutes before she said, "So, Carson, can I ask you something?"
"Of course," I said, as we started across the street.
"Did you do that film that you were scheduled to do the morning after you left Vegas?" she asked quietly. I glanced at her and she lowered her eyes, but kept looking straight ahead.
I hesitated in answering her as we made it past a small group of people, and then I took her hand and pulled her to an empty spot at the edge of the stone railing looking out to Lake Bellagio.
We stopped and she pulled her hand back, staring up into my face. "I showed up," I said, in answer to her question.
Her eyes darted away from mine but when I continued with, "But I didn't follow through with the shoot. I left and I didn't come back," her eyes darted back to my face and I thought I saw her shoulders relax.
"Oh," she said. "Well that's… good."
I nodded, not breaking eye contact. God, I wanted to kiss her so badly.
"I looked up your films," she blurted out, her eyes widening.
I froze, my eyes narrowing. What. The. Fuck?
She brought her hands up to her cheeks and looked down. "I'm sorry. That was highly inappropriate to say… I–"
"Why'd you look up my films, Grace?" I asked quietly. I hated knowing that she had seen those. I hated thinking of her sitting at her computer watching me fuck other women. It made me sick. I looked away, out to the water. "Goddamn, Grace, why'd you do that?" I muttered.
A feeling that I hadn't felt in a really damn long time slithered its way through my belly–shame. I had moved past that, and so to feel it now, in front of Grace, sucked.
What did she think about me now that she had seen that? I tensed my jaw. That life felt so far away, so distant from who I was now. But Grace didn't necessarily see it that way.
"Hey," she said, leaning her head to the side to get my attention. I turned back toward her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you that. It was so long ago, and–"
"Why did you do it?" I asked, trying to relax.
She shook her head slightly. "At the time, I guess I just needed a reminder about why I shouldn't contact you," she said, her eyes filling with sadness.
I breathed out harshly and turned to face her fully. "Did you miss me?" I asked.
She nodded. "So much, Carson," she said softly.
"Me too," I said quietly back. "It's why I came to see you before I shipped out. I wanted to tell you."
She smiled sadly and opened her mouth to say something when a collective "Oooh" sounded from the group around us and the water show started.
We stood watching it for several minutes and then I moved closer to Grace, our sides barely touching, but the heat of her felt like it was scorching me, moving through me, taking me over. I wanted to move behind her and hold her in my arms like I had the last time we were here. And then I wanted to take her back to my house and–I slammed the brakes on that line of thought. It was only going to lead to pain on several different levels, most notably at the moment, a serious case of blue balls.
She looked up at me and our eyes met, something electric passing between us. She moved back quickly as if she'd been jolted and sucked in a breath. "We should go," she said.
"It's not over," I said back quietly.
Her eyes widened and her lips parted slightly as we drank each other in. I gestured my head toward the water. "The show," I said quietly.
She blinked as if coming out of a trance. "I… I work early. I should… get home…" she trailed off.
I looked at her for another few seconds. "Okay," I said, turning and leading her through the light crowd of people still watching the water.
We walked back to my truck, and I held the door open for her and took her hand to help her climb inside. Another rush of warmth passed through our hands and she glanced down at me quickly, her lips parting slightly. She pulled her hand away and got inside. I walked around to my side and got in and started the engine.
I exited the garage and started driving back toward Summerlin. We were both quiet, thinking our own thoughts. The lines of Grace's body looked tense in my peripheral vision. It was clear that we still had the same chemistry we'd had the last time we were together. I
wanted to see her again. But how was that supposed to happen exactly? I hadn't asked a lot about her fiancé, but I figured although he might accept one dinner out with an "old friend," he'd probably question two. He'd also probably frown upon me kissing his fiancé up against the door of her house when I dropped her off. But I had gotten a few signals that, fiancé or not, Grace might not be completely opposed to that–at least not physically. Need was pumping through my blood and I couldn't do a damn thing about it.
The ride went quickly as we both watched the scenery go by out the window. As I pulled in to Summerlin, I glanced at Grace and she was chewing on her lip again.
"What are you thinking?" I asked quietly. The mood between us had shifted.
She was silent for a minute before she said, "It's probably better if we don't see each other again."
"Better for whom?" I asked, a mixture of anger and fear filling my chest.
She looked at me. I could just make out her tense facial expression in the dark cab. I pulled up in front of her house and kept the engine idling.
"Better for me," she said. "Spending time with you tonight, it's brought up…" she trailed off.
"Brought up what, Grace?" I asked quietly, moving closer to her, her words making the anxiety in my chest fade slightly, hope taking over.
She closed her eyes for a couple beats. "Don't."
I stopped. "Don't what?"
Her eyes opened and we stared at each other. "Just don't," she whispered.
"Call it off, Grace," I ground out, suddenly filled with intense possessiveness and purpose. Why would fate bring us back together only to have us part a second time? I didn't want to say goodbye to her again. There were reasons I should, I knew that. But all the reasons other than her damn fiancé seemed far away and unimportant.
