I sigh. “Does that mean we’re almost there?” I try to keep the whiny out of my voice.
He shakes his head. “We’re in Fruita, Colorado. About four hours to go.”
I slump and then immediately straighten as slumping causes my shoulder to sing its hateful song. I snag the hundred from his fingers and get out of the car. Wow. It feels wonderful to stand.
Ten minutes later, we pull into a deli the gas attendant recommended and I get to stand up again. I shiver as I step from the car, zipping the light jacket a little higher. It’s April, but the weather is still cool in this part of the world.
“What will the temperatures be like where we’re going?”
Link drapes an arm around me, pushing the fake glasses up his nose. “Colder. I’m high in the mountains past Kremmling. Well below freezing at night this time a year. The days are hit and miss. Sometimes no warmer than forty. Sometimes in the sixties. We won’t know till we get there.”
I shiver again and he pulls me tighter before tugging his cap further over his eyes. “There’s a good outdoor store on the way. We’ll stop and pick up some coats and boots then hit the grocery before we head up the mountain.”
Looking up at him, I say, “I have a few hundred dollars tucked into my purse if we’re getting low on money.”
He smiles and kisses my temple. “We’re good. I have enough in my bag and I’ve got a stash in the cabin when we get there. We’ll be fine, I promise.”
Inside the shop, we place our orders and head toward the bathrooms and I’m happy to announce I made it out alive.
I step out and Link’s there, one of his eyebrows lifted in question. I hold out a fist and he bumps it. First time I’ve ever celebrated a normal bowel movement.
Grabbing our food and large teas for us both, we head back out to the Durango. We talked about eating in but there were too many people inside.
With my hand on the car door, I hear someone yell, “Get out of here. Git!”
I turn and a small black dog comes racing around the corner of the sandwich shop, chased by a man with a broom in his hand.
Anger blooms everywhere inside me. Without thinking, I march over to the man, ignoring Link’s “Graaaace” as I go.
The man narrows his eyes as I approach. “What are you doing?” I demand and grab the broom from his hand, tossing it as far as my gimpy left hand will throw.
“Graaaace!”
“That dog’s a menace. Been hanging around here for days, going through the trash. Thieving mongrel.”
“He’s going through the trash because he’s starving, you moron.”
The man bares his yellowed teeth at me. “Not my problem. Called the damn animal control people and they’ve not done shit. Not good for business having a damn dog begging people for food.”
I scowl at him. “Bet it won’t be good for business for you to be walking around with a broomstick up your ass either.”
I yelp when an arm wraps around my waist, pulling me backwards. The man looks past me. “Better keep your woman on a leash.”
Link growls and lets me go, standing up to his full height. The man pales and turns, heading back around the side of the building double time.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Link asks as I crouch down, looking for the dog. “We’re supposed to not be drawing attention to ourselves.”
I ignore him and duck walk closer to a truck.
“Graaace!”
I ignore that too and move closer, seeing the little black dog cowering behind a tire.
The bag of food is still in Link’s hand and I grab it, set it on the ground and begin digging for a sandwich inside. I pull out a piece of turkey and hold it out to the dog, who sniffs and cowers further behind the tire. Tossing the piece, I watch the sweet little dog creep forward slowly, low to the ground, its fluffy ears pulled back tight on its head. The dog snags the turkey and runs back to the tire. In one gulp, the morsel is gone.
I pull out another piece. “Graaace.”
I shush Link and hold the turkey out. Creep. Creep. Creep. The little dog takes a few steps toward me. Then another. Then two more. His nose is two inches from my fingers when some sound startles him and he runs back under the car.
Not willing to give up, I stay there, waiting. Patiently waiting for the small dog to try again. He does. Creeping. Sniffing. Looking so scared my heart twists in my chest.
He takes the turkey and runs, but not all the way under the truck this time. Gulp. The turkey is gone and he, no she, turns back for more.
Several pieces of turkey later, she’s standing beside me, her ears still back, still trembling, but beginning to trust. Her brown eyes look so scared, but a little hopeful. Reaching into the bag, I pull out another piece and her ears perk up. She’s so cute and looks like a Papillon mix. Her ears have that trademark butterfly fluff.
Two more pieces and she’s in my lap. Trembling so hard her entire body shakes, then she drops her head on my knee and I’m lost.
Looking up at Link, who is leaning against the Durango, his arms crossed over his chest, looking sexier than any man should in baggy grey sweats.
“Will you help me up?” I ask him, holding the little dog one handed against my chest.
He frowns and steps behind me, hauling me upright. “Okay, you did your good deed for the day. Go ahead and give…” he lifts the dog’s tail “…her the rest of my sandwich and let’s go.”
I rub my nose in the dog’s soft fur, its little body trembling in my arm. The little thing snuggles up to me, her face pressed under my neck.
I look up at Link and he’s shaking his head. “No, Grace. No!”
I push out my lower lip.
“No way, Grace. We can barely take care of ourselves. We don’t need any more responsibility.”
I take a step closer to him and lean my head on his chest.
“No Grace. Don’t even think about it. Absolutely not.”
Chapter 9 – Duffy
Un-fucking-believable.
I scowl over at the little dog now curled in Grace’s lap. I scowl at the little curve on Grace’s lips. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, I look back at the road.
Dammit.
The little thing sure is cute.
“What do you think about Chloe?” she asks absently, rubbing the dog behind her ears.
“No!” I growl at her. “Don’t name it. Don’t get attached.”
She smiles. “We could call her Destiny or Fate?” She giggles. “Maybe Felony.”
I sharpen my voice. “I said no. If you get attached, it will be harder to let it go.”
“Her. It’s a her and you know it.”
“It. Trust me on this one, Grace. We don’t know what’s happening and how quickly we’ll have to move.”
She’s silent for a few minutes and I can almost hear her thinking.
“I thought you said your cabin is secure. That it isn’t even under your name. How can we not be safe there?”
I twist the steering wheel in my hands. “Because we don’t know who we’re dealing with. There are ways to get information. Ways to hack systems. Retrieve information in any number of ways—clean and dirty.”
“But we’re dead. Why would they be looking?”
I try to hide my annoyance at her questions. I try to remember that she looks at the world and sees beauty and possibilities. She doesn’t look at the world and see the hidden danger that’s all around us. The hidden danger around every corner.
“Tomorrow, most likely, the house will have cooled enough for the firemen to search for bodies.”
“Oh.” The little sound speaks volumes.
“Yes, oh. Seldom is there a fire hot enough to completely erase the presence of a human being. Something would be left. Bone. Teeth. Something.”
She pulls the dog to her chest, absorbing this new information. “What happens when they don’t find a body?”
“If whoever tried to kill me still wants me badly enough, they begin a s
earch. They’ll look for missing or stolen vehicles. They’ll tap into street cameras. They’ll access phone records, bank records, credit card records.”
She sits the dog back into her lap and reaches over, curling her fingers around my arm. “Who, Link? Who would do that to you and so many others?”
I shake my head. “That’s the million dollar question.” Anger stirs inside me. “Don’t you get it? I don’t know! I do not know who or why someone would want to kill a hundred top-level military fighters. I do not know why those of us who survived that battle are being targeted now or, if there is even a direct connection. I do not know if my cabin will be safe. I do not know where we should go next. I do not know if you are better off without me. Or with me and I certainly do not know how we are going to take care of a fucking dog if a-fucking-nother bomb drops on our heads.”
She touches my arm again and I shake her off.
“Don’t you get it?” I yell at her and watch her cringe against the door, the dog trying to crawl up her chest and hide in her hair. “There is a good chance. A fucking good chance that we will be dead by tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the next. And do you know that it is killing me that I do not fucking know how to protect you or that fucking dog. Or fucking anyone because every single person I would normally trust to help me in this type of situation is dead. Don’t you get it?!”
Silence fills the car for the longest time. Nothing but the sound of the wheels on the interstate fill my ears.
Then she takes a deep breath and I stiffen, not sure what to expect from her.
“If it’s true. If everything is uncertain and we don’t know what tomorrow will bring, can we go on a date tonight?”
I glance over at her in surprise, see the sincerity in her eyes and feel my heart rate begin to decrease, my breathing slow. I feel the power of her grace and serenity wash over my soul. So much power and strength in her soft gaze.
“I know we can’t go out-out, like to a dinner and a movie out, but let’s pick up dinner and pretend. Let’s watch TV and pretend. Let’s dance. Let’s make love. Sleep with me all night.”
Her fingers slide over the console and onto my thigh.
“Because if there is no tomorrow, Link, all I want tonight is you.”
I sigh and my hand drops from the steering wheel to envelop hers.
“I love you, Link.”
I close my eyes, then refocus on the long ribbon of concrete stretching in front of us. I lift her hand to my mouth and kiss her soft skin, kiss the ring that circles the finger that leads directly to her heart.
“More than loving you, I trust you. I trust you to do everything within your power to keep us safe, and if destiny has other plans for us, then I want you to know that I regret nothing.”
She turns her hand and our fingers link together as perfectly as they always do.
“Someone told me once that things just happen, that there isn’t a reason for it, but I think he’s wrong. You’re my reason, Link. You’re the reason I became a nurse. You’re the reason I became a therapist. You’re the reason that I left my home. You. I felt it the first time I saw you. You did too, I know it. And I believe we have more reasons to be on this earth. More important things to do. But if we don’t, tonight is enough.”
Up ahead there is a viewing station, a place to pull over and watch the Colorado River sweep by. I whip the Durango over and pull into an empty space, then shove the transmission into park.
“What—?”
I open the door and step out of the car, slamming it behind me. Then walk around to the passenger side. I swing her door wide and the little dog growls at me. I grab it off her lap and ignore its little whine.
“Link! NO!”
Opening the back door, I sit the dog in the back seat, slamming the door on its growl, then I face her—the wide eyes, the open mouth—and grab her around the waist, pulling her out of the car. Then I take her lips with mine.
I swallow her gasp. I absorb her pain. I take everything she has to give. Her mouth responds instantly, her wet tongue seeking mine. Her good hand in my hair, pulling my head down harder.
Walking her backwards, I don’t stop until she’s against the side of the vehicle, my body pressed against hers. I know I’m hurting her. I know she can take it. Wants it. I don’t hold anything back.
“Yes,” I say against her lips, my breath heaving in and out of my lungs. “Yes to the date. Yes to the movie. Yes to everything.” I kiss her again. Wet. Open. Seeking. Taking. I pull back and press my forehead to hers. “Because, Grace. You’re my reason too.”
She begins to cry and pulls my head down again, the wet of her lips now mixing with the salt of her tears. I love her. God, I love her. Everything about her. I sink back into the warmth of her mouth.
I kiss her until a car filled with kids honk their horn and toss catcalls through their window. Then we smile at the same time, our mouths still touching, unwilling to let each other go.
I fist my hands in her hair and pull her head back until she’s looking up at me and we’re nose to nose. “I love you, Grace.” The word seems so small for how big it is. Fresh tears spill from her wet lashes and I wipe them away with my thumbs. “I will do everything in my power to keep us safe because I want to say those words a million more times.”
In the backseat, the dog whines and we both turn to look into the window. Her black nose is pressed against the glass, her fluffy ears stand at attention and her pink tongue hangs out while she pants.
I heave out a breath and curl my arm around Grace’s shoulder, watching the dog look from one of us to the other.
Then I surrender to it all and heave out another breath. “Fate kind of suits her, don’t you think?”
Grace smiles, pressing her head against my shoulder. “Yes. Indeed it does.”
Chapter 10 – Grace
I thought the mountains of Tennessee were beautiful, and they are. But the mountains of Colorado have a ruggedness that can only be looked on with awe.
We stop in Silverthorne to buy jackets, boots, and warmer clothes, as well as groceries and stuff for the dog. I’m relieved to see Link pull out another wallet from his Mary Poppins bag and count out ten one-hundred dollar bills, stuffing them in his ‘Greg’ wallet with a grin.
“What’s it like having so much money?” I ask him, and promise the puppy we’ll be back, closing my ears to her whines. “I mean, normally. Well heck, even now. You have more in that emergency bag of yours than I have in my checking and savings account together.” I touch his cheek. “Well, I’ll have more than that when I get my deposit for taking care of some pain-in-the-ass guy this past month.”
The corner of his mouth lifts into that sexy smirk that I love. “Oh yeah. Bet you were worth every penny. And I bet you get a bonus for combat pay.”
He grabs my hand, pushes his fake glasses up his nose and pulls me into the direction of a store. “Ahhh, combat pay. I never thought about that.”
“Well, you need to think about it. You deserve it.”
I grin and shiver. “Just buy me a coat and we’ll call it even.”
He looks up at the sky. “I was hoping to get you to the cabin before sunset. I think you’d love the beauty of it. But I don’t think we’ll make it in time tonight.”
I take in a deep breath, remembering sitting with the twins and watching the sun kiss the mountains. That seems like so long ago. So very long ago. My heart squeezes. I miss them all so much.
“Then we’ll just watch it tomorrow night,” I say, mentally crossing my fingers that we’ll have tomorrow. I shake it off, realizing his pessimism about our situation is washing off on me. That will never do. I’m supposed to be the optimist.
“So,” I begin, trying to move us back to the original subject. “What is it like having so much money? The internet says you’re a billionaire. I can’t even count that many zeros.”
“Was a billionaire,” he corrects me. “I’m just a lowly millionaire now.”
“Poor you,” I teas
e and thank him as he holds the door of an outdoor store open for me. “Please don’t tell me you bought a mansion like your parents.”
He scoffs. “Sorry. If you’re wanting a mansion, you’re with the wrong guy. My mother convinced my dad that they needed a place that big to entertain out of town clients. Plus, I secretly think she wanted something bigger than Streisand’s.”
“La la la,” I sing badly. “That Streisand?”
He laughs and pulls me toward the shoe department. “Yes, that one. To answer your question, having money was awesome until I was about eighteen. Had anything I wanted, anytime I wanted it. Drugs. Girls. Stuff. I was an adrenaline junkie, so I could go jump out of planes just about anytime I wanted. Buy new gear. Gear up my friends. Take trips. Like I said, awesome.”
“Then graduation night?” I ask, remembering the story.
“Yep. Then money didn’t really matter, except for what I could give to the guys.” He grins at me. “Or stick in a strippers g-string.”
I roll my eyes.
“What was the best part about being in the Army?”
“Jumping,” he says immediately. “Especially HALO jumping.”
We’re in the women’s section now and my eyes go immediately to the sizes before I even look at the type. “Hello? What’s that?”
He pulls down a pair of North Face boots, size ten, and hands them to me. “H.A.L.O. High altitude-low opening. Jump from about thirty thousand feet, free fall for a few minutes and open the chute just high enough that you don’t splatter on the ground.”
I stare at him. “Did you say thirty thousand, as in three zero zero zero zero?”
He pulls down another pair and sits them on a bench nearby. “Yep. Nothing like it.”
“Sounds scary as hell.” I sit and kick off the flip-flops he bought me in Vegas. They were easier to deal with than the tennis shoes he’d also gotten.
“Maybe, but that was the fun part.”
He picks up a pair of the boots and begins to unlace them, then crouches to slip them on my feet. They’re perfect. I glance at the price tag and gasp. One hundred and fifty dollars. I look at the price tag of the others. Eighty. “Let me try the cheaper pair.”
Badass - The Complete Series: A Billionaire Military Romance Page 28
