Grace pressed a hand to her chest. “Thank you for showing a little sense. I don’t want you to go anywhere near that man again.”
Lark set the soda can on the coffee table. “Why not?”
“He’s way too old for you, that’s why not.” When her voice rose, she made an effort to lower it. “Don’t you have a boyfriend?”
Pain flashed in her eyes. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Grace leaned back and patted her arm. “We’ll talk, but how about we do it in the morning. It’s late.”
“Do you feel okay?”
“Of course. Why do you ask?”
“Because you look a little sick. Why don’t you go to bed? I’ll sleep on the couch with Wylie.” She reached down to pat the dog who’d come to sit by their feet.
Grace stood. “I’ll get you a blanket and pillow.” Glancing toward Travis, she cleared her throat. “Um, Travis—”
“I’m not Grandma, for God’s sake. I’m not going to flip out if he stays in your room.” She grinned. “Just try to keep it down.”
“Funny. No wonder your mom wants to give you to me.”
“She just says that when I’m making her crazy.”
“Which is most of the time. I’ll be right back.”
Grace’s hands shook as she pulled a blanket off the closet shelf. When she turned, Travis stood behind her. He pulled her into his arms and held her.
“Lark’s okay. Don’t fall apart on me.”
She pressed her cheek against his chest. “I won’t. Not yet, anyway.”
His hand stroked up and down her back.
She didn’t want to move. Ever. Finally she pulled away. “I’ll go get Lark settled for the night.”
“I’ll be here when you get back.”
She drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. “Right now, that means more than I can say.”
Chapter 20
Travis held Grace in his arms while she slept. Emotionally, she was wiped out. The stress of waiting for the next attack was wearing her down, and only in sleep did she truly relax. The muscles in her face were slack, her lips open as she breathed through her mouth. One silky smooth leg was tucked between his, and an arm curled over her head. Her chest rose and fell beneath the thin covering of the sheet.
He wanted to pull it back and nuzzle his face between her breasts. He wanted to roll on top of her and lose himself in the pleasure of her body.
Idiot. Getting all hot thinking about making love to her when there was no chance in hell they’d begin their morning with a round of sex was just stupid. Not to mention painful. He shifted slightly, trying to ease the throbbing in his groin.
In the other room, Lark was already stirring. The toilet flushed in the half-bath off the living room, water ran in the kitchen sink and the unmistakable sound of kibble rattled into an empty bowl. Apparently, Wylie was up, too. Reluctantly, he unwrapped himself from around Grace and headed for the shower. The cold spray depleted his morning ardor, but the sight of Grace sitting up in bed when he exited the bathroom perked him back up again.
“Morning.” Holding a towel around his waist, he dug through his suitcase for clean boxers.
“Morning.” She rubbed her eyes and pushed the hair out of her face. Sliding out of bed wearing nothing but a pair of panties and a thin tank top, she headed toward the bathroom.
He straightened holding blue shorts. His grip on the towel eased, and it fell to the floor.
Heat flared in her eyes as she stopped and stared. The tips of her breasts pearled beneath the tank top.
“We can’t.” She angled her head toward the bedroom door. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.” Stepping over the open suitcase, he pulled her against his chest and tried to ignore the erection prodding her stomach. “I already took one cold shower this morning.”
She buried her nose in the hair on his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I don’t think it worked.”
“Only until I saw you.”
She drew in a breath. “Lark is awake.”
“I know. I’m going to put on some clothes and take Wylie for a walk. I didn’t do it last night, and he must be ready to burst.”
Her lips twitched, and a giggle escaped. “There’s an image guaranteed to deflate your…um, problem.”
“You’d think.” He pulled away with a groan and turned his back on temptation.
“Travis.”
He glanced over his shoulder, one leg through the boxers.
“Be careful.”
The worry in her eyes made him want to reach for her again. Instead, he pulled up the shorts. “I always am.”
With a nod, she went into the bathroom and shut the door.
He finished dressing and tugged on a windbreaker to cover his holstered Glock then left the room.
Lark hummed to a song on her iPod and stirred something in a mixing bowl. Blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore flannel pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. She glanced up, and the whisk in her hand stilled.
He smiled. “Morning.”
Her answering smile was shy as she pulled out an earbud. “Do you like waffles?”
“Does anyone not like waffles?”
“Good point.” Her grin widened. “The first one will be ready in a few minutes.”
“You’ll have to eat it. I’m going to take Wylie for a quick walk. Your aunt is in the shower.”
“Probably a smart move.” She pointed at the dog. “He’s been staring at the door and whining. I was going to take him, but—”
“I’m glad you didn’t. This neighborhood is pretty safe, but it isn’t Vine Haven. Most everyone up at this hour is a jogger, still the city has its share of perverts.”
“I see why you and Aunt Grace get along.”
“Oh?”
She poured batter onto the sizzling waffle iron. “Neither of you sugarcoats the facts.”
“Not much point. I’ll be right back.”
Grabbing a plastic bag from the box by the door, he left the apartment with Wylie and ran down the stairs. Outside the building, he stuck close to the edge of the sidewalk and jogged up the street, entering the park by a circuitous route. No point in presenting a target if he could avoid it. The dog stopped to take a dump, and he scooped up the pile and dropped it in the nearest trashcan then ran hard with Wylie keeping pace for twenty minutes, avoiding open stretches of the trail in favor of the trees. Sweat beaded his brow and dampened his T-shirt beneath the light jacket by the time he approached the apartment. Stopping beneath the cover of a big-limbed fir tree, he scanned the area.
His sixth sense didn’t so much as twitch. Had Mason Rogers given up target practice in favor of a more direct approach? Last night, listening to Lark recite the story of their meeting, he’d wanted to snap the little punk’s neck. Instead, he’d done his best to calm Grace’s fears even though they were more than warranted. What really bothered him was why the man was so persistent in his pursuit of her.
Fritz had e-mailed him that Sutton would leave the hospital later today to go to a safe house. Travis could only hope the transfer would fully occupy Rogers’s attention. Not that he wished Casey ill, but he wanted the assassin’s focus away from Grace.
He ran across the street and punched in the security code at the door. With Wylie leading the way, he climbed the stairs then rapped on the apartment door. Grace opened it, and the breath squeezed from his lungs.
She wore a pair of shorts, a pink T-shirt and a smile. Standing on her toes, she kissed him, then bent to pet the dog. “All good?”
He nodded. “No sign of our friend.”
“Excellent. Come eat. Lark made waffles.”
While Travis dug into his breakfast, Grace cleaned up the kitchen and talked to her niece in a low voice. Obviously he’d interrupted the conversation that had brought the girl to the city in the first place. Something about a boy dumping her. Every now and then Lark nodded. There weren’t any tears on her cheeks. Just a
determined look in her blue eyes.
The girl and the woman were eerily alike, though the only physical characteristic they shared was a slim build. Lark could do worse than to take after her aunt.
The conversation ended with a fist tap and a hug. Standing, he carried his plate to the sink.
“What are we doing today?”
Grace glanced over. “Hello, it’s Thursday. I’m going to work. Lark is calling her mom so the two of them can decide her ultimate fate after this little stunt. You—I don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I could drive Lark home so she wouldn’t have to take the bus.”
The girl’s eyes lit up. “Would you? I’m probably going to be grounded for life. I might as well go out in style with a ride in Aunt Grace’s car.”
He frowned. “If you knew you’d be punished, why—”
“Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. I was positive it’d be worth it.”
“That’s probably what Wylie thought the time he got into the trash.”
Grace grinned. “It’s what I was thinking when I flew to Alaska.”
Travis’s frown deepened. “Look how well that turned out.”
Stepping around the dog squatting in the middle of the kitchen floor, Lark paused in the doorway. “What happened in Alaska?”
“Besides getting eaten alive by mosquitoes, not much. I think he’s referring to my furry little begging friend.” Bending, Grace stroked Wylie’s ears. “Why don’t you go call your mom then pack your stuff? The two of you can drop me at work on your way out of town. I’m late enough as it is. Good thing I’m still basking in the glory of the Casey Sutton story. Speaking of which…”
He turned slowly at the hesitation in her voice. “What?”
“My editor wants me to do a follow up with Casey—an exclusive in-depth interview. The story got picked up by the national news, so he wants to milk it for all it’s worth.”
“No.”
Her cheeks went pink, and her eyes snapped green sparks. “What do you mean, no?”
He glanced toward Lark who lingered in the doorway, eyes wide with interest. “We’ll talk about it this evening. They’re moving him today, anyway. Fritz e-mailed me.”
“Casey’s getting out of the hospital?”
Travis gave a short nod.
“Perfect timing. People will want to know how he’s doing.”
“Not perfect timing. Rogers—” He clamped his lips together and took a couple of deep breaths. “Never mind. We’ll talk tonight.”
“Fine. I’ll get dressed for work. Lark, quit stalling and go make that call.”
An hour later, he drove out of the city with a subdued Lark and an ecstatic dog occupying the passenger seat. Thankfully, rush hour traffic was going in the opposite direction.
“You okay?”
She glanced his way. “Yeah. My mom went ballistic, but I’ll survive not driving for the rest of the summer.”
Edging around an old pickup, he accelerated into the fast lane then put the car on cruise control. “I imagine you will. So, was it worth it?”
She nodded. “Aunt Grace understands how I feel. She went through some bad crap in high school. My mom doesn’t get it. She was always a good girl—until she got pregnant with me in college. That doesn’t count.”
“Why not? I bet your mom understands more than you think.”
“She and my dad just got married. End of problem. Aunt Grace is different. She did some stupid things, too, and she survived a tragedy.”
It took every bit of his willpower not to question her. He couldn’t invade Grace’s privacy that way. If she wanted him to know about her past, she’d tell him.
“It’s great you have someone to talk to. I’m sure it helps.”
“It does. My aunt is—special. Are you two…” She bit her lip. “I want her to be happy, and sometimes I don’t think she is. She’s seems to like you a lot, though.”
“I like her a lot, too. No promises, but I’m doing my best. I want things to work out between us.”
Her hand stroked Wylie’s back. “That’s good.” She hesitated for a long moment. “Is something wrong with Aunt Grace? My mom was being all weird about me going to the city, and then you two acted like there was some deep, dark secret. She’s not sick or anything, is she?”
“No, of course not.” Grace would probably kill him—so would her sister—but wasn’t the truth better than letting this girl think her aunt had some deadly disease? It wasn’t his call to make, but he made it anyway. “There was a little trouble in Alaska.”
“I read her story about the government witness for that trial. What kind of trouble?”
“Let’s just say the drug lord on trial didn’t want the witness to testify against him. He sent someone to eliminate the problem.”
“Wow. Cool.”
“Not so cool.”
“Does this have something to do with that guy, Archer? I thought Aunt Grace was going to have a heart attack when I mentioned him even though she tried to pretend nothing was wrong.”
“She didn’t want to scare you. I don’t want to scare you, but if he ever comes near you again, run. He’s dangerous.”
The hand on Wylie’s back shook. “They think I’m going to fall apart at any hint of trouble because that freak who was stalking my mom kidnapped me. I’m not.”
He exited the freeway and slowed as they cruised down the two-lane road leading to Vine Haven. “I don’t imagine you would. I’d guess you have a steel backbone just like your aunt.”
She smiled. “Damn…er, darn right. All the Hanover women are tough, from Grandma right on down to Ivy.”
“Your little sister, the one who looks like a Christmas angel, is tough?”
“I know, right?” The grin spread. “Her looks are deceiving. She’s scary smart and almost as devious as me.”
Travis laughed out loud. “What about Jade?”
“What you see is what you get with Jade. She’s an athlete. She’ll probably be a professional soccer player—or the first woman in major league baseball. None of the boys can hit her fastball.”
“What about you? What do you want to do?”
She shrugged. “I’m not as smart as Ivy or as good at sports as Jade, but you never know. Maybe I’ll surprise everyone someday.”
“Lark?”
“What?”
“I’d bet on it.”
* * * *
Grace covered one ear with her hand and strained to hear in the noisy bar. “Can you hold on for a minute?” She dodged around two twenty-somethings wearing skintight camisoles that made it clear they hadn’t bothered with bras and slipped into the restroom. “Say it again.”
“Where the hell are you?”
“Geez, Travis, don’t get your shorts in a knot. One of my co-workers turned forty today. We’re having a drink to celebrate.”
Deep breathing greeted her response. She hoped he wouldn’t hyperventilate before he got his anger under control.
“I’m fine, perfectly safe, surrounded by a dozen people from the paper. Or I was until I stepped into the bathroom. Still, I’m pretty sure no one is waiting in a stall to slit my throat.”
The toilet flushed, and a woman with short black hair and deep red lipstick emerged. After giving Grace a nervous glance, she hastily washed her hands and exited the room.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t back in time to pick you up, but going out alone is just plain stupid.”
She sighed. “I’m not alone.”
The grating noise was probably Travis grinding his shiny white teeth.
“I meant without me to protect you. Where are you? I’ll be there in…where are you?”
“O’Shaughnessy’s Pub.” She gave him the address. “I was careful, honest, and there was no way I could say no to celebrating Jen’s birthday. Where exactly are you?”
“On the Bay Bridge. I thought I’d never get out of Vine Haven. I agreed to drive Lark over to the winery since your sister was busy at work an
d didn’t want her left home alone.” A sigh whistled through the phone. “You should have heard them arguing about that. When we got there, your dad started talking about grapes, and the next thing I knew your mom was bringing out a late lunch. Then Kane stopped by to hear the real story of Lark’s big adventure because apparently Rachel wasn’t so sure her daughter’s version was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”
His voice ended on a high note. Grace leaned back against the sink and grinned.
“You don’t have to tell me how exasperating my family can be. Uh, you could get a ticket for talking and driving, you know.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass.”
She glanced up when the door opened. A tall blonde drifted in on a wave of perfume and headed into a stall.
“I repeat, I’m fine. I’ll see you in a few minutes, twenty tops since you’ll have to find a place to park.”
“Please keep your eyes open. If you feel even a twinge of unease—”
“I’ll dive under a table or hide behind the bar or use my editor as a human shield. Hank pissed me off today.”
At least she’d made him laugh before she hung up. Slipping the phone into her purse, Grace left the bathroom. The work group had spread and thinned while she’d talked to Travis. Her editor, who’d been nagging her about a follow up story on Sutton, and one of the newbie sports reporters had disappeared completely. Sal, a grizzled veteran of the news trenches, was at the bar watching the ballgame. The birthday girl and the society news biddy, who had to be pushing eighty, were at a table guzzling drinks sporting little pink umbrellas, and Dottie, the travel section guru, was talking to a blond man with his back to Grace, wearing a sports jacket that probably cost more than the down payment on her car.
She headed in their direction. Dottie glanced over and waved, and her companion turned. His gray eyes held cool amusement as he met her gaze. With a murmured word to the travel reporter, he strolled toward the door. When he reached it, he turned back and smiled. Raising his voice over the din he called, “Next time.”
Every Step She Takes (Who's Watching Now Book 2) Page 18
