Long Way Home

by HelenKay Dimon

  “You feeling okay, honey?” Kim asked.

  Grace had to fight off the urge to lean into her. “It’s still a shock.”

  “For all of us,” Callen mumbled.

  Oh, really. “You’re welcome to carry the baby. Get fat, vomit, worry you’ll move the wrong way and injure the tiny thing.”

  He threw up his hands, giving in immediately. “Hell, no.”

  “Smart man.” Declan crossed over to the porch of the old caretaker cottage, the one they were all working on and their mom claimed would one day be the perfect place for her to stay when she came to town. He switched on the radio and music blared through the woods.

  Callen froze. “Oh my God, change the channel.”

  “This is dancing music.” Declan shook his hips and shifted around.

  Grace had to admit the guy had moves. No lumbering or stiff lower-lip-biting flailing. He was actually graceful, and when he grabbed Leah’s hand and spun her around to dance with him, they made a pretty adorable pair.

  This wasn’t a slow dance. No waltzes here. They were all but dirty dancing. Pressing their hips together, slipping around each other as they moved. All right there on the soggy lawn.

  Callen shook his head. “What did they teach you in the Army?”

  “This.” Then Declan really went at it, gyrating and bending his knees. Leah laughed as he pressed his front to her back and moved around in perfect time to the fast music.

  Kim shook her head as she walked across the yard. After a quick check of the picnic table twenty feet away, she went for leaning against it rather than sitting down.

  Grace followed, leaving Callen to call out insults as Declan and Leah shifted around and Declan sang . . . if you could call it singing. Finally, Grace had found something the guy wasn’t all that great at doing.

  Kim watched and smiled, her gaze never leaving her sons. “I’m thrilled about the baby.”

  “I’m terrified.” The woman had children, so Grace knew she’d understand.

  “You’re supposed to be.”

  For some reason that helped. “I have no idea how you did it.”

  Grace tried to imagine her juggling young kids and Charlie’s betrayal and all the secrets. There couldn’t have been enough money or time. Grace didn’t know what support she’d had, but she got the impression not much.

  “You love them so much, you figure out a way.” Kim’s voice sounded wistful.

  That part Grace understood. After the weeks of being unsure and sick and so scared she couldn’t see straight, she had settled in. Falling in love with the baby she’d never met was pretty easy after that.

  But the circumstances weren’t normal, and Kim could have been a different person or not taken the news all that well. “Thanks for accepting me and the baby.”

  It looked like the dance number was over, and the others were filing over to the table. Callen took the opportunity to change the music.

  “You’re about to make me a grandmother, which I have always wanted and feared these boys wouldn’t get around to doing.” Kim reached over and took Grace’s hand. “As far as I can tell, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to my son.”

  “We blame Callen,” Declan said as he stepped up with an arm still around Leah and a roughness in his voice that came with being out of breath.

  His mother smiled as if she’d heard that line before. “For what?”

  Declan shrugged. “Whatever you’re talking about.”

  Grace went for a shortcut. “The baby.”

  “Then biologically, that’s not wrong.” Callen joined them and stared at Declan. “What the hell was with those moves? Looked more like sex than dancing.”

  Declan shook his head. “Maybe you need a lesson on sex.”

  “He’s fine.” The comment popped out before Grace could think it through. The slight sting of heat on her cheeks came a second later.

  Declan provided an assist by going right after Callen again. “What’s wrong, old man, you don’t like dancing?”

  Callen’s eyes widened, along with his stance. “Old man?”

  “Uh-oh.” Leah smiled as she glanced at Kim.

  “Let’s show them how people should dance.”

  Before Grace could take it all in, Callen had her hand and was leading her toward their makeshift dance floor. “Really?”

  “We’ll show them real moves.” His hand slipped around her waist and he pulled her body in close as a slower song came on.

  Excitement buzzed around her. He touched her and her insides burst into a round of mad jumping. And he didn’t hide any of it. The touching, the charm, all happened with his family as the audience. Progress. It had to be a sign he was willing to change. To open up.

  That didn’t mean she couldn’t give him a little shit. “I’m younger than you, you know.”

  His eyebrow lifted, and somewhere over his shoulder Declan laughed. “Afraid I won’t be able to keep up?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Challenge accepted.” Then he twirled her. Spun her around and proved that Declan was not the only Hanover brother with moves.

  Declan sat on top of the picnic table not caring if his old jeans got wet or that a mist had moved into the air. Watching his big brother actually have a good time was worth it. Seeing their mom smile was a nice change from her recent pained expression, too.

  She stood with her arms wrapped around her and her cardigan pulled tight around her slim frame. “I love him with her.”

  Declan propped his feet up on the benches and dragged Leah to stand in between his legs with her back to him. “It probably helps that she loves him.”

  Mom glanced over her shoulder. “Grace told you that?”

  Declan stepped carefully through this part. “Actually, yes.”

  Mom went from smiling to frowning. “For some reason I don’t like that answer.”

  “You’re not alone.” Leah gave him a tiny pinch on the forearm wrapped around her. “’Fess up to your mother.”

  This time his mom turned around and came over to stand next to him. “What did you do?”

  That tone sounded so familiar. It filled most days of his teen years. Like when he stole a car. When he got caught cutting school. That time he was drinking in the parking lot at the convenience store. It was nothing short of a miracle he made it out of his teens alive.

  But he could act innocent. “Why do you assume I did something?”

  His mom’s eyebrow lifted and that was never a good thing. “Experience.”

  When Leah opened her mouth, likely to tattle, Declan took over. “When Grace first got to town I went over to the motel to see her.”

  “You mean to run her out of town?” From the flat expression and tone, Mom didn’t sound impressed.

  “I wouldn’t do that.”

  She kept talking as if she hadn’t heard him. “Declan, you know better.”

  The music played on and Callen spun Grace around. They laughed, and he looked lighter and less serious than Declan had ever seen him.

  But it didn’t start that way. “You didn’t see Callen’s face when he first saw her sitting on the porch. I knew she mattered and could mess him up.”

  “And?” His mom lowered her voice to match her whisper to his.

  “I needed to know she wasn’t screwing around with him and that became clear when she told me she loves him.” Everything changed after that. Declan instinctively knew she was telling the truth and had no intention of letting Callen go. Now, with the baby news, some of that made sense, but Declan also sensed she wanted Callen for Callen. “She said a bunch of stuff that made it clear she gets him.”

  “And he loves her.” Leah held gestured to the couple right as Callen dipped Grace over his arm. “I mean, come on. Look at that.”

  His mom made a humming sound. “Think he kno
ws it?”

  “He’s fighting it.” Declan recognized the signs, having fought this battle a few months ago himself.

  Leah snuggled in closer to his chest. “He is going to lose.”

  Declan kissed her hair, inhaling the fresh scent of her shampoo. “We always do when faced with the right woman.”

  “Damn straight.”

  His mom snorted. “I didn’t raise idiots.”

  Chapter Twenty

  After two days of rain and a communication blackout, Grace sat across from Walker in a booth at the diner. He wore his usual black suit, which made no sense in light of him being on leave. He also rapped his knuckles against the table. The knocking echoed in her head until she thought her brain might explode. If he wanted to slowly drive her nuts . . . well, congratulations.

  She reached out and flattened his hand. When he tried to move it, she pressed down even harder, daring him to make a scene. “Walker, I’m about out of patience. Stop staring at me and growling under your breath and generally being a pain in the ass.”

  “And you wonder why I’ve ignored your calls.”

  The man had a smartass response ready at all times. She sat back in her seat, not buying his act for a second. “You’re the one hiding from me.”

  He scoffed. “Like hell.”

  Looked like a heaping cup of denial was on the menu today. Not her favorite thing. She zipped to the one topic she thought might knock him out of it. “Did you make up with Mallory?”

  Something that looked like sadness moved through his eyes, then disappeared. The fatigue and anger came rushing back. “That’s not your business.”

  If only he could see how much he cared about Mallory and how this was ruining every aspect of his life, including his relationship with her with his vendetta. “Since when?”

  “Since you went back to Callen Hanover.”

  Walker just never stopped with this. His whole life had become this rush to take Callen down, and that made her ache for all of them. “You have to get over this.”

  “Because you’re pregnant?” Walker leaned in and lowered his voice. “Don’t you see that he did it to trap you? You give him legitimacy.”

  This wasn’t exactly a comfortable topic to chat about in public . . . or anywhere. But there was no way she was going to let Walker turn her relationship all around as a new way to blame Callen. “Okay, I was there and know how it happened and, trust me, Callen was not alone and not scheming when this baby happened.”

  Walker made a face as he held up a hand. “Spare me the details.”

  “I plan to.” She played with the napkin, lining her silverware up with the top of it. “Can you tell me why?”

  He didn’t pretend to understand. “People need to pay for their choices.”

  That’s where this all fell apart for her. Vengeance, personal vendettas—she understood those on some level. But she needed Walker to spin out of it and she needed ammunition to make it happen. This festering anger, the type that covered and destroyed everything, didn’t appear to have any basis. She didn’t know how to fight it.

  She tried logic one last time. “Being born a Hanover was not a choice Callen made.”

  “Right.” Walker brushed something off his jacket. Shifted and picked something off the seat next to him.

  The whole scene looked like a big stall tactic to her. “Now tell me the real reason.”

  “That’s it.”

  “You’re going to lose your job.” He loved the work. Studied and trained and worked his way up. He had the respect of his superiors. The whispers didn’t start until he got taken off the Charlie Hanover case for losing perspective. The official word was that the agency wanted a “fresh pair of eyes,” and they claimed Walker would still be on the task force. She knew differently. He’d been moved to another case and went out on leave right after.

  “I’m not.”

  Denial. There was no other explanation. Grace tried again, using something more personal this time. “Mallory.”

  “I’m not talking about her.”

  He didn’t have to. The way his shoulders slumped and his mouth dropped down even further said it all. “I really like her.”

  “If I asked you to leave town for me, would you?”

  The pleading in his voice got to Grace. “Tell me why.”

  “This is personal.” He stumbled over the words, stopping between each one to glance around the diner.

  It was the first time he’d admitted even that much. “Obviously.”

  “I need to see this through.”

  The truth hovered right there. She could feel it. They were right on the edge of figuring this out and being able to handle it. “What is ‘this,’ exactly?”

  He knocked his fist against the table one last time. “Tearing the family apart.”

  Her stomach dropped and the blood rushed out of her head. “What are you—”

  A shadow fell over them. Grace looked up to see Marc Baron standing there. He wore his usual furious scowl and stomped around until people looked over at him.

  Talk about piss-poor timing.

  With his palms against the table, he leaned down, not bothering to lower his voice. “Are you two or anyone in the FBI finally going to do something about those Hanovers?”

  “No,” she said.

  “Yes,” Walker added at the same time.

  “Callen is the mastermind, but Declan is the problem.” Marc kept his attention focused on Walker.

  For some reason, that annoyed the crap out of her. “Because he’s sleeping with your daughter?”

  He turned on her then, red-faced and full of fury. His words came out between clenched teeth, and his hands balled into fists. “What the hell do you know?”

  Walker slid out of the booth and stood up. With a hand on Marc’s arm, he pulled him away from the table. “That’s enough.”

  Marc jerked out of the hold and looked back at Grace. “You’re up there, sleeping with the oldest. What is wrong with you women? No sense of self-respect at all.”

  He was screaming now. Everyone, from the diners to the wait staff to people standing outside, started staring.

  She refused to be intimidated. She didn’t do anything wrong, and this guy was way out of control. “Mr. Baron, we’re done here.”

  “You don’t get to talk to me.” Marc turned back to Walker. “And you. Do your job.”

  “I am.”

  “Don’t think you can placate me.”

  Walker took the older man’s arm again, this time in a white-knuckle hold, and pulled him into the aisle. “Come with me.”

  Marc flailed and yelled. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Grace didn’t know whether to be grateful or scared for Walker. Older or not, Leah’s dad or not, the man bordered on crazed. Marc threw his arms around and tried to stop Walker’s momentum while practically hyperventilating.

  Walker kept his usual calm as he moved Marc back and walked him in a two-hand hold toward the door. “We’re going to visit Chief Darber.”

  She stood up and raced after them. “Walker?”

  He barely spared her a look. “We’re done, too, Grace.”

  The words sliced through her. She guessed that was the point—to hurt her. Fine. He could take whatever shot he wanted, but she still loved him as a friend and wanted to help. She tried one last rescue.

  “This is where you’re heading.” Walker glanced at her then. “This madness, this anger. You are zooming right for it, and I am begging you to stop.”

  Walker didn’t say anything as he led Marc out the door and through the group of people gathered on the sidewalk.

  ***

  Callen waited until the dinner dishes were cleared and Leah had gone upstairs to shower to get to the topic that had been picking at him all afternoon. He’d rather do this alone, bu
t Declan stood right there by the sink, drying the last of the dishes from the pasta dinner Callen made for them all.

  Sitting across from Grace, he watched her studying a clothing catalog with the same intensity Beck used when he poured through legal documents. She flipped one page after another, folding down the top edge now and then. He guessed that meant something.

  “How was your lunch?” he asked. Such a simple question, yet so important.

  Almost in slow motion, she lifted her head and lowered the magazine. “Excuse me?”

  “I think you heard me.”

  Nothing in her affect suggested fear or shame. She sat up straighter and aimed every ounce of her female indignation in his direction. “Are you checking up on me?”

  “It’s hard not to hear about you having lunch with Marc Baron and your pal Walker.” People flocked to Callen at the grocery store to talk about it. Seemed everyone now knew he was with Grace, thanks to whatever Marc had said—and it can’t have been nice, because most of those spreading the gossip sided with her and expressed concern about Marc’s behavior these days.

  It also sounded like Walker played the role of hero. In this one instance, Callen could give him some credit for that.

  Declan walked over to the table with a dish towel draped over his shoulder. “What are you two talking about?”

  So much for privacy. “This isn’t—”

  Grace bulldozed right over Callen’s we-need-alone-time speech to his brother. “I was meeting with Walker at the diner to see if I could get him to stop hunting you all down.”

  The snort came out before Callen could stop it. “How did that go over?”

  She ignored him and kept talking to Declan. “Marc stormed into the diner and threw a fit. Apparently that’s his one skill. Making a stupid scene.”

  Declan swore under his breath. “Sounds like the guy I know.”

  “He’s dangerous.” Grace’s expression was stark now. “I mean, truly.”

  “You’re talking about Declan’s future father-in-law.” Callen loved pointing that out, even as he feared for Declan’s safety.