Grace Under Fire

by Jerri Drennen

  Once she had opened the shop, she’d let a few things slide at home, a fact she now regretted. If she’d known she’d only have Vincent for a few more months, she would have lavished him with attention.

  She shook her head and went back to the box.

  Reaching in again, she came across some magazines. On top was Hot Rod. She’d had no idea Vincent was even into fast cars. He’d never said anything to her about it. Had there been other things she hadn’t known about her husband?

  She tossed the magazine aside and looked at the next. Her jaw dropped. On the cover was a naked, big-breasted blonde holding a riding crop. This couldn’t be Vincent’s.

  With shaky hands, she leafed through the pages, her face burning at the disturbing images.

  She quickly closed it, too embarrassed to look any further.

  Tears formed in her eyes at the idea of her beloved husband ogling the women in the magazine.

  Her mind raced. Had her husband been into this kinky stuff? Why hadn’t he ever said anything to her about it?

  Come on, Grace. You think he’d tell you he was into something he knew you’d find offensive? No, he would have hidden it.

  What else had he hidden from her? Had she even known her husband at all? What other deep, dark secrets had he failed to mention in the duration of their three-year marriage?

  Suddenly, the man she’d put on a pedestal slipped, and she wondered if he should have been placed there at all.

  Grace Under Fire

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cord held the quilt Grace had made for Emily’s son and rode the hospital elevator to the third floor. Grace stood next to him, her eyes red-rimmed as if she’d spent the night crying.

  Earlier that morning, he asked her what was wrong, but she had denied anything was bothering her.

  Maybe she’d dreamt of Vince and it had brought back all the painful memories of his charred remains.

  The elevator stopped and the doors opened.

  Cord allowed Grace to exit first. Without provocation, his gaze inadvertently zoomed in on her bottom. She had a cute little behind, one that would fit nicely in his palms—a thought that made his penis twitch in response.

  Get your mind on something else, Cord.

  Emily’s room was at the end of the long hallway in a double-occupancy suite.

  He followed behind Grace as a nurse drew back the curtain separating the beds. A pregnant woman lay on her back, looking out the room’s only window.

  “Good morning.” Grace leaned in to kiss her sister’s cheek. “How do you feel?” She glanced around. “Where’s Jacob?”

  “I feel surprisingly good, and Jacob is in the nursery right now. How about you? I wish I could say that you looked good.”

  Grace frowned. “That’s what I love about you, Emily—always full of compliments.”

  “Sorry, but it looks like you’ve been crying.” Emily glanced at Cord. “What’s going on?”

  He shook his head. “No clue.”

  “Isn’t that just like a man?” Emily scoffed. “Never knowing anything when it comes to a woman weeping. Charlie always finds an excuse to leave the house when I get into a crying jag.” Emily looked at the woman in the other bed. “What about you, Heather? Have you experienced that?”

  The woman turned, and Cord felt his blood run cold.

  Heather Pratt. What the hell was she doing here?

  “I guess.” The woman’s attention locked on Grace.

  “Heather had some contractions,” Emily explained, pulling herself higher on her pillow. “The doctors are trying to stop them. She’s only seven months pregnant.”

  Grace smiled at Heather. “I’m sure they’ll be able to.”

  Cord inwardly cringed. If Grace had any idea who this woman was, she wouldn’t be saying that, though from the look on Heather’s face, she recognized her.

  What were the odds? Typical of his luck.

  He had to get Grace out of the room before Heather said something.

  Cord touched Grace’s arm. “Don’t we have to get going?”

  Grace sighed. “Yeah, I guess. I’ll come by tonight and see you and Jacob. Okay?”

  “Actually, Charlie’s taking us home this afternoon. Come by the house.”

  Relief washed over Cord. He was happy that Emily and Jacob were going home. He didn’t want Emily near Heather, either. The woman might spill her guts.

  Grace kissed her sister’s cheek again. “Oh, wait.” Grace reached for the quilt in Cord’s arms. “This is for Jacob. I made it myself.”

  Emily unfolded the blue and mint-green bundle and her face lit up with excitement. “It’s beautiful, sis. I love it.”

  “I’m glad. Nothing’s too good for my nephew. Well, we’d better go.”

  Cord and Grace turned to leave the room.

  “Grace,” Emily said, stopping them at the door. “Did Mom and Dad call you back?”

  Grace shook her head. “No, but I’m sure they will.”

  “I don’t know about that. It’s almost as if they’ve decided they didn’t want to be our parents any longer.”

  “They’ll call. After all, this is their first grandchild.”

  Emily inhaled deeply, then released the breath. “I hope you’re right.”

  “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Cord placed his hand on the small of Grace’s back and ushered her out of the room. The whole sordid scenario was more than his nerves could take. Sweat dripped between his shoulder blades. What was going on? Everything he knew as truth had suddenly been turned upside down.

  He needed to find out what had happened between Heather and Vince as soon as possible.

  Outside the room, Grace turned to him. “Cord, I have this odd feeling I’ve seen Heather before. But for the life of me, I can’t figure out where.”

  Cord swallowed hard. “You’ve probably confused her with someone else, or maybe she’s been to the shop.”

  “Maybe.” Grace nodded and turned toward the elevators.

  Cord followed, hoping he’d put an end to her inquiries about Heather, at least for now.

  Though, where would she have come across her? Would the woman have the nerve to walk into Grace’s shop, knowing she was having an affair with Grace’s husband?

  Hell, she was an exotic dancer. She probably would.

  How would Vince have reacted to that? Maybe he’d been into the danger element. Maybe it was a turn-on for him to come close to getting caught.

  Cord shook his head.

  Every day, Vince became more of a mystery to him—one that left him with a bad taste in his mouth.

  ****

  Grace flipped off the light and headed for the back door. The shop had been hectic, though when she recalled Cord helping a lady choose a dress from a stack she’d tried on, it brought a smile to her face. The woman had beamed from ear to ear to have a handsome guy helping her. He was definitely a good man to have around, no matter where they were or what they were doing.

  Vincent would have sat in the back and sulked. Acted as if his time was being wasted. Not once had he helped her with anything at the store. Cord had actually been hands-on. Thoughts of Cord brought an incredible rush of heat coursing through her body. She could almost feel his hands on her.

  She met Cord at the back door. “Busy day,” he said, reaching for the doorknob. Grace went for the handle at the same time, and the contact made her knees go weak. Every time the man touched her, her stomach made a figure-eight, twisting her emotions. If she had the nerve, she’d drag him into the storeroom now and jump his bones. Crazy was what it was, to think of them being intimate, but she hadn’t had a sane thought since he’d come back to town.

  Her world had drastically changed.

  Not once in her twenty-six years of life had she wanted a man so much it physically hurt, but Cord made her ache with longing. Made her feel like a woman again.

  The two obviously had a chemistry she could no longer deny. She wanted his strong arms wrapped around he
r, wanted to feel his lean, naked body crushing hers.

  Damp heat pooled between her legs, her need building in intensity.

  Grace glanced up and found Cord studying her, his lips parted.

  She focused on his mouth—lips full and wet as if he’d lapped his tongue over them. Lucky lips. Lucky tongue.

  Kiss me. Don’t kiss me . The words ran through her mind like a resounding echo in a cavern.

  Which is it, Grace? If he kisses you, it’ll lead to more—if you have your way.

  As if he’d read her mind, he moved in and pressed his lips to hers, a gentle brush, ending much too quickly for her. He remained close, holding her tight, breathing deeply against her ear.

  Tingling sensations skirted her backbone and made her tremble.

  Her skin felt sensitive, every pore alive—something she’d never experienced.

  She wanted him to kiss her again. Like their first shared kiss. Hot and demanding, a bonding that left her mindless of anything except his mouth, tasting—exploring—hers. His strong arms held her tight, making her feel safe and cared for.

  His callused hand ran with deliberate slowness up her arm, where goose bumps formed from his fingers caressing her skin.

  Grace tried to speak, but found she couldn’t, her throat now tight with passion.

  She took a deep, ragged breath to calm herself.

  The air around her felt strange—hot and somehow charged, edged with a sense of danger.

  His thumb ran over her bottom lip, the same path followed by his tongue seconds later, an erotic lick, nearly buckling her knees. His firm mouth molded to hers, at first soft and tender, then quickly became urgent, more demanding.

  The muscles in her stomach tightened. His hand slid up her side to cup her breast, making her mindless of anything except the taste and touch of him. Her nipple instantly beaded when his thumb played across her it, stirring a sensation in her lower belly. All she wanted was for Cord to be buried deep inside her, driving her to orgasm.

  The sound of shattering glass brought Grace out of her passion-induced state. A box on a shelf behind her exploded, raining confetti-like pieces inches from Cord’s head.

  “Get down!” Cord pushed her to the floor, shielding her with his body.

  Her heart raced. “What happened?”

  “Someone took a shot at us.” His voice was raspy. “Stay here. I’m going to look outside.”

  Grace grabbed his forearm. “No, Cord. You could get hurt.”

  “I’m glad you care, Grace, but I’ll be fine. I’m a cop. I know what I’m doing.”

  Grace nodded and released him.

  She was far from convinced he’d be all right, but they couldn’t stay on the floor forever. He had to see if the shooter was still out there.

  Cord pulled his gun out of the side holster he’d just strapped on and eased his way to the door. Glass crunched under his feet.

  The bullet had barely missed his head, and that made him angry. Could it have been an accident? A stray shot aimed for whatever? Or had someone been trying to kill him? Either way, he was pissed.

  Slowly, he opened the door and leaned out, his gaze darting left, then right.

  He exhaled. Behind the store there was no place for a shooter to hide, so whoever had fired the round was gone.

  Cord retraced his steps back to Grace and helped her off the floor. “They’re gone. I need to call PD and get them over here.”

  Her beautiful face was etched with fear. “Do you think the shot was meant for us?”

  He shrugged. “I can’t be sure.”

  The last thing he wanted to do was scare Grace further, but he was pretty sure the bullet had been aimed to at least scare them. But who the hell would take a shot? Tidwell had as much as threatened to kill him if he got close to Grace. Would the man have the balls to try?

  Cord unclipped his cell and pressed seven, a speed dial number for the Ninth. After relaying what had happened, he went back to Grace’s side. He found her shaking uncontrollably.

  He wrapped his arms around her. Her quaking body stirred his protectiveness.

  Only minutes ago they’d shared a powerful kiss.

  Hell, he’d been shot at before with no reaction, but Grace’s kisses left him physically jolted—a feeling he wasn’t used to. If he were honest, he’d admit he didn’t like feeling out of control.

  Obviously, he needed to avoid Grace’s lips from now on, or he was going to be a walking train wreck.

  Grace Under Fire

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I think you should close it down, just until we catch this guy.” Captain Harris placed a reassuring hand on Grace’s shoulder as they stood near the back door of Lightly Seasoned. “Consider how many people come in here every day. Any one of them could be the shooter. It’s too hard to keep you safe otherwise.”

  “But I can’t close my shop. I need the income until I receive Vince’s death benefits. According to brass, for undisclosed reasons, they’ve been held up.”

  The captain frowned. “Let me look into the situation. I’ll set a fire under them. Get the ball rolling.”

  “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.”

  Grace hated the idea of closing her shop—her reason to get up in the morning. What was she going to do all day without work to keep her busy? Puttering around the house had never been her thing.

  “Grace, maybe you could stay with Emily for a while? I’m sure with the new baby, she could use an extra pair of hands,” Cord suggested, coming up behind them.

  Why did she feel like he was trying to relinquish his job as her protector? Well, if that was the way he wanted it, then fine. She’d go stay with her sister. He was too hard to be around anyway. Besides, she was sure Emily could use some help. But what if that shot was meant for her? Would she be wise to stay at her sister’s?

  “Wouldn’t that be putting my family at risk?”

  Captain Harris shook his head. “I’ll post a unit in the area. You’ll be safe.”

  “And if Emily and Charlie have no objections,” Cord interjected, smiling, “I’d like to stay there at night.”

  Grace’s heart instantly reacted, missing a much-needed beat and nearly sending her into V-fib.

  Her uncontrollable emotions pissed her off, and out of anger, she took it out on the two men standing next to her.

  “I guess you two have it all figured out. I’ll just be a good little girl and do what I’m told.”

  “Captain,” a uniformed officer interrupted. “We pulled a .38-caliber bullet out of the wall behind the storage rack.”

  Harris nodded. “Good. Run it through ballistics, see what they can come up with.”

  Cord took hold of Grace’s arm and led her to a secluded corner. “We’re not trying to bully you into something you don’t want to do, Grace. It’s safer for you right now. I promise to get to the bottom of this quickly.”

  She sighed, thinking it best to listen to people who knew what they were doing. “All right. I just wish this whole nightmare would end.”

  He rubbed her arm, and goose bumps erupted over her body. “It will. You’ll see.”

  Grace recoiled from his hand. She couldn’t take him touching her right now. It brought back their earlier encounter, and guilt and yearning filled her.

  He frowned, and his blue eyes narrowed. He really had no idea what his slightest caress did to her, and probably didn’t care. She was just someone he could kiss and feel up when the mood struck. But she wasn’t used to someone turning on and off like a kitchen faucet.

  Understandably, being shot at would douse one’s passion, but to act as if nothing had happened at all was too much for her to handle. He was treating her as if she was just his partner’s wife again, even after their shared intimacy. His constant flip-flopping confused her. But maybe he got off on playing with women’s emotions, tossing them aside like unwanted toys.

  Well, she was done playing. A pig would sprout wings before she allowed him to touch her again. She’d be a good
little girl and go stay with her sister. That way she’d never have to be alone with Cord again.

  ****

  Cord clasped Captain Harris’s hand firmly. “Glad to have you back,” the captain repeated.

  “I’m glad to be here.”

  Cord knew the only way to delve into the corruption at the Ninth was to be an officer and, while he was, do some digging on Heather Pratt.

  “I’m going to stick you at the desk in the corner. That way Tidwell and the rest will leave you alone.”

  Cord smiled. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

  He took his cup of coffee and went to sit at his desk.

  His mind drifted back two years, to when he and Vince had first been assigned together as partners. Vince had immediately slapped him on the back and welcomed him to the Ninth. Cord hadn’t known how to react at the time to such an open display of friendship.

  Until he’d met Vince, he’d shied away from making any friends. People were normally cold and accusing once they’d learned of his juvenile history and his not graduating. He was still embarrassed about that. Luckily, he’d joined the Army, which had taught him discipline. They had changed his life and he’d always be grateful for that.

  “Hey, Rawlings, how you going to make it through the day without a drink?” Tidwell stood next to the coffee machine, a smirk on his face.

  “I think I’ll manage.” Cord tamped down his anger. He wasn’t going to get into a fistfight his first day back, especially with Mike. He’d bide his time. If Tidwell had taken that shot at him and Grace, he was going to prove it. But until he did, he’d act as if he had nothing against the man.

  So instead of punching the shit out of Mike like he wanted to, Cord turned on his computer and waited for it to boot up. If Heather Pratt had a record, he’d be able to find it.

  He quickly typed in her name, and a list of infractions came up. First was a shoplifting offense when she was fifteen. At twenty, she was arrested for solicitation, as well as for possession of a controlled substance. Man, she was a real piece of work. Definitely not good mother material—too much like his own.