“I still wish I could’ve seen your mother’s face when you told her we were just friends. It took her a while to get used to the idea.”
“She wasn’t upset that you were gay, but she regretted that I didn’t have a boyfriend.” Having a boyfriend was a sign to her mother that Grayce was beginning to recover from her sister’s death.
“God, look at this guy coming down the street, and walking a poodle…my kind of man.”
Grayce recognized Lieutenant Davis, heading straight toward them. Her heart rate accelerated. His face was calm, but his eyes never stopped watching the crowd. Moving away from the light, she leaned back in her chair.
James spoke in a sotto tone. “Oh God, all that dark hair.”
“Mitzi, stop.” Davis’ sharp command didn’t slow Mitzi from pulling on her lead toward Grayce.
James eyed the lieutenant and said in a voice loud enough to be heard at the next two tables. “What a great specimen.”
Mitzi planted her two front paws on the wood beam separating the bar from the sidewalk and yelped.
Grayce leaned forward. No hiding now.
“Mitzi, get down.” Davis’ voice dropped low, almost to a growl, unconsciously acting as the alpha of the pack.
The dog sat.
Grayce willed her hammering heart to slow. Of all nights, why tonight? Tonight was about being with the men who cherished her, men who didn’t give her nightmares and premonitions, men who didn’t make her heart race into tachycardia.
“Grayce…Dr. Walters. What a surprise.” Mitzi continued to yip, straining to reach her.
“Hello.” She pushed her drink to the side to pet the poodle. “How are you, Mitzi?”
“Darling, introduce me to this dreamy fellow.”
Davis gave no indication that James had said anything out of the ordinary. “James Dewitt, this is Lieutenant Ewan Davis and Mitzi.”
Davis bent and shook James’ hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Mitzi pulled on her lead, trying to reach Grayce.
“Ewan can you join Grayce and me for a drink? We’re celebrating.”
Grayce nudged James with her foot. “I’m sure he has other commitments.”
“Really Ewan? Are you too busy to celebrate?”
Davis stared at her. “I would love to join you. What are you celebrating?”
James stood and pulled a chair from an empty table behind them. He placed Davis’ chair between his and Grayce’s.
Davis squeezed between the tables, trying to fit into the tight gap. His heat pressed against her back. His thighs brushed her when he pulled his chair closer to the table.
She caught a whiff of his scent—clean, fresh, a hint of spearmint. Her highly tuned intuitive system was bombarded, flooded by sensations, aware of Davis, all six foot four of him, struggling to sit comfortably in the small chair. This awareness wasn’t about his dangerous job, or the rage of an arsonist—it was about a compelling, attractive male pressing against her.
“Call me Davis, everyone does.”
“Really? Not Ewan?” James questioned, unable to let anything pass.
“Davis seems easier for everyone.”
“Doesn’t your mother call you Ewan?”
“My mother passed away. My Aunt Aideen, who raised me, is the only person who calls me Ewan. So Davis it is.”
“Well, Davis. We’re drinking Grey Goose Martinis in honor of Grayce going to Hollywood. Can I get you one? Or is there something else you’d prefer?”
“Grey Goose works. Thanks.”
Davis turned, focusing on Grayce. “You’re leaving Seattle? I thought you’d just opened your practice?”
“I’ve been asked to treat a dog in California. I’ll be gone for two days.”
“Oh.” There it was again, that crooked smile that reminded her of Dallas, the Doberman. Her patient was all sleek muscle and fierce growl, but had the same lopsided grin when he wasn’t acting territorial.
“Excuse me.” James waved his hand at their waitress, delivering drinks at the next table. The voluptuous blond stopped and stared at Davis, her eyes round with appreciation. “What can I get you?”
She leaned over the ledge placing a cocktail napkin in front of Davis, exposing her generous décolletage. She wiggled, giving her breasts a life of their own.
“Another round for the table.” Davis’ eyes stayed on the woman’s face. She smiled at Davis and sauntered away.
James turned in his chair to look at Davis. “Do women always behave that way around you?”
Davis looked directly at Grayce. “Not all women.”
Grayce couldn’t look away. Her stomach twisted and rolled in rebellion, like the time she had gorged on an entire bag of vinegar and sea salt chips after trying to save a dog who had been hit by a car.
Contrary to the impression she formed during her interview at the fire department’s headquarters and then at her office, she had liked Davis, the man who cared deeply about his poodle. By the way her stomach was twirling, it seemed she also liked raw male energy.
“So Davis, besides attracting women like bees to honey, tell me about yourself. How did you meet Grayce?” James leaned around Davis and placed his hand on Grayce’s. “Darling, you’ve been holding out on me? Another man has replaced me in your affections?”
She hated when James acted overprotective. “James, behave yourself.” She tried to glare at him. James winked.
Davis looked back and forth at them. “I brought Mitzi to Grayce’s office for acupuncture.” He didn’t mention Grayce’s role as a witness.
“Mitzi looks healthy, or has Grayce already cured her?”
“James, if you don’t stop, I’m cutting you off. Davis is a firefighter. Mitzi was injured on his work site.”
James perused Davis’ broad shoulders and the way his thighs bulged in his blue jeans. “God, I might just need to start a fire in my condo.”
Davis laughed out loud. Unlike other humans, whose stomach and shoulders shook, Davis’ whole body rolled as a solid mass. “I’m definitely the wrong person to confide in about starting a fire. I’m a fire investigator.”
James pursed his lips. “Oops.”
Davis turned to Grayce. “When do you leave for California?”
“I’m going Monday afternoon and returning on Wednesday. Was Hollie able to give you an appointment?”
“Mitzi and I see you on Thursday.” Mitzi’s ears perked up when her name was mentioned. She placed her head on Grayce’s lap and looked up into her eyes.
Grayce patted the dog’s head. “Yes, I’ll be taking care of you.”
“I can’t believe how Mitzi has taken to you. She really isn’t that friendly,” Davis said.
“Really?” James lost his flirty tone. “Everyone is attracted to Grayce. Especially strays.” He angled his head, to inspect Davis. “Not that I meant Mitzi is a stray. Anyone looking at her knows she’s a thoroughbred.”
James wasn’t referring to Mitzi, but Grayce hoped Davis didn’t realize it. Whenever she started dating, James got testy.
Davis straightened in his chair and faced James. “I’m sure we agree that Grayce has an amazing gift.”
James crossed his arms and tapped his finger against his lower lip. “Oh, I’m aware of all of Grayce’s gifts and her ability to attract lost souls.”
“How is your investigation going?” She interrupted, hoping to derail the sudden turn in the conversation.
“It’s moving slowly, the usual. But the good news is Mitzi hasn’t needed to save me again.”
The vision of Davis on the ground flashed through her mind. She felt light-headed, almost dizzy. Grayce pushed her Martini away. “Is Mitzi still going with you to the fire site?”
Mitzi pressed her cold nose under Grayce’s hand. Grayce sensed a sudden tension from the dog.
“Yes, but she isn’t allowed to get out of the car, right, Mitzi?”
The poodle pushed her nose against Grayce’s hand again. Dogs’ emotions were usually pure an
d easy to read, but Mitzi’s abrupt agitation was confusing.
Grayce focused her attention on the vigilant dog and fought the shadowy gloom creeping around them. She was absorbing Mitzi’s fear. Panic slithered its way under her skin. She took a deep breath and tried to shake the apprehension. Mitzi needed her, needed reassurance. “What is it, girl?”
Mitzi looked up into Grayce’s eyes and howled an eerie, disturbing sound. Grayce’s vision narrowed into a black tunnel filled with murky energy. Blue sparks fluttered in the periphery.
The raucous bar scene quieted, and all heads turned toward Mitzi.
“Mitzi, what in hell is wrong with you?”
Grayce could hear Davis’ voice, but it sounded strangely muffled and distant.
“My God, Grayce, what is it?” The magnitude of James’ volume broke the spell.
She didn’t want James flying into one of his dramatic diva moments. “Sorry, I think the wine with my dad and now the Grey Goose has done me in.”
Davis moved closer. “Are you sure that’s all it is? Mitzi started to howl, and you got a strange look, like you were in pain.”
Davis didn’t miss a thing. What could she tell him? His dog was transmitting fear signals, and she seemed to be the Bluetooth: the only network available to receive them.
“I’m fine. I really am, but no more martinis for this girl.” She hugged herself, trying to stop the cold shivers running up and down her body as if she had jumped into the icy waters of Lake Washington.
“Grayce isn’t the heaviest drinker. I remember a time in college…” James said.
“I’m fine, but I think I’d like a cup of tea before I drive home.”
Davis signaled their waitress. He ordered a tea for Grayce, a coffee for himself and when he gave James a questioning look, James said, “Oh, I think I’ll have something stronger. I’m a pedestrian. A Vodka tonic, please, extra lime.”
Mitzi leaned against Grayce, crowding her and making her edgy. Soothing Mitzi, she ran her hand along the dog’s chest, feeling the poodle’s warmth and her pulsing heartbeat. “Mitzi and I are a bit fey today, a woman’s prerogative.”
No one laughed at her attempted humor. A pall had descended on her bright evening.
James answered a call on his cell. “Darling, do you mind if I meet Edward? He sounds verklempt.”
She blew on the steaming mug. “No, no, go. I need to get going, too.”
She was glad not to have to run interference between the two men, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be alone with Davis.
“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” James’ sideway stare indicated he was offering to help her ditch Davis.
“I’ll make sure Grayce gets to her car.” Davis said.
“Go ahead, James. I’m going to finish my tea before heading out.”
James stood and ran his hands through his dark hair totally aware of the striking picture he presented. He bent over to peck Grayce on the cheek. “So we’re on for Sunday? If we need to, we can head downtown to pick up a few things. How about eleven?”
“Let’s be realistic, two?” She asked.
“Oh, so bitchy! Okay, so I like to sleep in, especially when I have someone to sleep in with.”
Davis couldn’t miss the leer James gave him. Leaning toward James, Davis countered, “I’m an early riser.”
James laughed out loud, loving the sexual innuendo. Davis was holding his own with James, not easy for many straight men.
Grayce nodded to James. “I’ll see you on Sunday. Give my best to Edward.”
“Au revoir, mon cherie.”
James sauntered down First Avenue.
“An interesting guy.”
“James has been my good friend since high school. He isn’t usually so dramatic. He was playing to a new audience.”
“I wasn’t sure at first if I should be jealous.” Their eyes met again.
Her heart rate accelerated and then ran a trill as if she were going into atrial fibrillation. Davis’ deleterious effect on her calm and steady heart rate defied medical reasoning and made her wonder about the benefits of yoga. “I really need to go. It’s been a long week.”
Davis searched her face. Whatever he saw caused his eyes to soften. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to drive you home?”
She had no answer that Davis would like or understand.
Chapter Eleven
Blending in with all the other couples, Grayce and Davis walked with Mitzi toward her car. Dodging the crowds, their shoulders and hands brushed, except they weren’t like any other couple. They were witness and investigator, client and veterinarian.
“Where are you parked?”
“I’m up on Second, where my Dad and I had dinner.”
“You’re a Seattle girl?”
“Born and raised. What about you?”
“The same.”
She couldn’t shake the sense of dread that sat in her stomach like a lump of greasy fries from Dick’s. She had convinced herself that Mitzi’s fear in her office had been a result of her injury. After tonight’s bar scene, she knew she had been wrong.
“Where did you go to college?”
“University of Michigan.” She found Davis studying her. “Family tradition. How about you? Husky?”
“No, I did the East Coast thing. Brown.”
They continued to walk, side by side. Davis kept the conversation going. He appeared relaxed, but she knew different. His energy was tight, controlled.
“I looked at Brown’s medical school.”
“But you went to vet school?”
She sighed. “Yes, to my mother’s dismay. There it is, the red Subaru.” She dug in her oversized bag for her keys. “Thank you for walking me to my car.”
Davis hovered close, surrounding her with his jumpy energy. The man and his dog were definitely in the same state of agitation, and she couldn’t find her usual sense of calm with either of them.
She ran her hand along the dog’s head. “Thank you too, Mitzi. You are a great girl.”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
Grayce looked up. The heat in Davis’ stare surprised her. His face was flushed, the heightened color along his cheekbones made his eyes brighter. She didn’t know where to look. Her heart fluttered, sending a rush of heat through her body.
He stepped closer. She backed up against the car. “Grayce?” The pitch in his voice vibrated deeper.
The air held an electric charge. She could hear the cars moving down Second Avenue. A homeless woman huddled in a corner. A street vagrant drifted toward them, a desperate frenzy in his reddened eyes. Pinpricks raced down her skin. She fought the lull of Davis’ mesmerizing voice and eyes.
Mitzi growled.
Davis pulled on the lead. “Mitzi, it’s okay.”
The man continued, his amble slow, moving closer and closer. Violence radiated from him.
With her ears and tail pointed, the dog stood in attack mode.
“Spare change…for coffee?” Not the usual mumbling of the homeless but an imposing voice with a foreign cadence and accent.
The hairs on her neck and arms bristled. She widened her stance and rolled to the balls of her feet.
Mitzi strained on her leash.
Davis placed himself between Grayce and the advancing man.
“Move on.” Davis snarled.
Ignoring Davis’ threat, the man continued, now within arm’s reach.
Her senses keen, she could smell a clean pine scent.
The man charged with a primitive ferocity, a knife in his raised hand. Bright lights flashed on the metal. He swung the knife in an arc at Davis’ chest. Neither Davis nor Grayce had time to react.
Mitzi leapt through the air, emitting a hellish sound, hitting the attacker in the stomach and pushing him backwards. The man’s head struck the sidewalk. A terrible thud resounded, followed by the clanging of the metal knife hitting the sidewalk.
Mitzi, her teeth bared, stood over the unconscious m
an. She kept up an insistent growl, her body poised for another attack, her white teeth gleaming.
Davis scanned the area before he bent over the man. “Grayce, get in your car. Call 911, and then get the hell out of here.”
Ready to protest, Grayce swallowed the words and nodded in agreement. Her breathing was as choppy as her heart rate. Her body was primed for action, ready to do more than call 911. She wasn’t going home, and she definitely wasn’t leaving Davis and Mitzi.
She fumbled with the keys. Her hand shook when she unlocked the door. She took a slow deep breath after being safely seated in her car. She relocked the car doors and then dug through her purse, searching for her cell phone.
Her medical composure took over as she answered the dispatcher’s questions. Hyper-alert from the burst of adrenaline, she answered quickly, precisely. “Yes, Second Avenue and Bell… No, I’m not in danger. I’m in my car.”
The dispatcher continued his questioning.
“Yes, unprovoked.”
She focused. “My friend’s dog jumped on him…. Yes, hit his head…unconscious.”
She watched Davis feel for the man’s carotid pulse. The sirens started before she had answered all the questions.
“Yes, two police cruisers are arriving.”
In another flash of violence, two cruisers careened onto the sidewalk forming an angle, boxing the crime scene. Bright lights glared on the two men and dog, surrounding them in a ghostly halo. Davis, leaning over the bleeding man, Mitzi in a fierce attack position, both surrounded by an otherworldly light. Two hefty police officers jumped out of their cars, their guns drawn. Davis raised his hands in the air.
Sirens blared in the distance. With their weapons pointed down, the police officers approached Davis. Her blood pulsated, expanding, into the keyed up muscles, readying her for the newest threat.
A two-ton fire truck sped toward them on Second Avenue. The bleating of an aid car could be heard in the distance.
Davis didn’t move, but Grayce could see him conversing with the officers. Davis gave a shrug of his shoulders then produced his ID for the beefy, no-neck officer. With their guns holstered, the police spectacle slowed and the medical response began.
The Grayce Walters Romantic Suspense Series Page 5
