Worth the Risk

by Kay Lyons

  The dog's gaze flicked back and forth between the treat Gray held and the bag in his other hand, and Grayson bit back a low chuckle. He dipped into the bag and gathered all but one of the treats, silently offering them to the dog.

  The temptation apparently proved to be too much for the gray-muzzled shepherd, because he rose and hopped over Frankie's legs to approach Grayson. Gray held still, maintained eye contact with the dog, and felt the dog's large canines scrape lightly against his skin as he gathered up the treats. Slowly, oh so slowly, Grayson turned his hand over for the dog to get an even better sniff. After a second or two of that, Grayson braved a light, quick rub of the dog's head and ears as Tank pulled away and retreated to drop the goodies on the ground by Frankie’s legs but didn’t eat them. The dog had patience, Grayson had to give him that.

  The grit beneath the wheels of the creeper raked like broken glass against Grayson's nerves as Frankie slowly rolled from beneath the vehicle. The moment he locked gazes with her, he felt himself get sucked into the beautiful blue depths.

  "Bribing my dog?"

  "Just making friends."

  "What are you doing here?"

  He removed the tray and second bag from atop the roof and held up his peace offerings. "You didn't get your second cup."

  A muffled word emerged from her full lips and color filled her face. After a moment, he squatted down, holding out the tray for her to take one of the cups. "Your sister is right, you know. It's not black and white."

  "You… You should've freaking said something. Let us know you were there."

  "I was too fascinated by the conversation."

  "That's cheating… but I guess you're used to it."

  He took the blow in stride because, if he was honest, he'd had feelings for a woman other than his wife from the moment he'd laid eyes on Frankie, but he'd never crossed the line. "I’d asked for a divorce before I ran into you that second time in California. Daria avoided the officials so she couldn't be served, even though she'd been cheating on me throughout our entire marriage, such as it was."

  Frankie blinked at him, her ocean-blue eyes narrowing so much he saw her battle walls go up. Her gaze dropped to the tray and he lifted it again, motioning for her to take one.

  "Why should I believe you?"

  Her mouth curled down at the corners, but she lifted her grubby hands to pull a cup from the tray and took a fortifying sip. Oh, yeah. He remembered her coffee addiction and took full advantage. "Because it's true. And it's trackable if you trace the dates on the documents and the deputies' comments about not being able to find her. She fought me at every turn, cost me a small fortune, and moved around constantly so she couldn't be served. She made life impossible from half a world away."

  Frankie broke eye contact and planted her boots on the concrete, getting to her feet with a painful-looking grimace. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

  A low laugh emerged from her and she backed away from the hand he’d stretched out in order to help her.

  "Thanks for the coffee. Leave the cookies and get out."

  Chapter 6

  Frankie set the coffee aside on her way to the ladies’ room and locked the door behind her before giving into a full-blown, can't-breathe, how-is-this-possible panic attack. She turned the water on full blast and shoved her hands under the cold, watching the grime from her hands dirty the sink but not come off.

  Why him? Why now?

  Why hadn't she stuck around long enough in Kabul to hear his story and—

  What? Be the other woman?

  Because the fact of the matter was, at that time, he was still married. No ifs, ands, or buts. And she respected herself enough to never cross that line. Marriage might only be a piece of paper to some, but to her it was more. So much more.

  Integrity. Morals. Married was married. Period.

  But now? He wasn't.

  Did it matter, though?

  She groaned aloud and winced at the sound it made echoing back at her from the tile wall and mirror. She spied the girly-smelling soap that would do little to clean her hands and regretted that she hadn't grabbed the heavy-duty cleanser off the shelf on her way in. And the coffee and cookies. She hadn't looked inside the bag but she knew what was in there. Oatmeal chocolate chip, her favorite.

  One of her late-night debates with Grayson had centered around the best cookie ever eaten. She'd won by breaking out her mama's care package, which had contained said cookies from a local bakery, the same one London used for her baked goods at the coffee shop.

  Frankie washed her hands as best she could and wondered if Grayson would give up and leave or if he waited outside for round two. She inhaled and wished she could think straight. Maybe then she'd know how to proceed.

  She gripped the edges of the sink and closed her burning eyes. Yeah, sleep would help her think more clearly, but that wasn't going to happen. She had to go out there, see if he was still there, and figure out the next step after that.

  Frankie opened her eyes and met her gaze in the mirror. "It's a test," she whispered. "Or an opportunity. The trick is to figure out which one."

  A noise on the other side of the door drew her attention and she turned off the water, listening.

  "So what do you think? Will she forgive me?" Grayson asked.

  Frankie frowned, wondering who he was talking to and how she'd never before noticed the lack of soundproofing in the bathroom because of the door. Usually the guys had music playing in the bays and the television was typically on in the waiting area but still—

  "I didn't mean to hurt her. I care about her. Have from the beginning. It's what made all of this so complicated."

  Frankie blinked, remembering how he'd said that before, that night when things had gone so wrong. Complicated was such a lousy description for something so much bigger.

  "So here's the deal," Grayson said. "You and me, we have to become buds, right? Because I know if you're not on my side, I don't stand a chance. So what do you say, Tank? Huh? Will you help me get the girl?"

  Frankie twisted the knob and opened the door, her gaze locking on Grayson where he sat on the garage floor facing the ladies’ room. Tank glanced back at her from where he stood at eye level with Grayson, and she knew Grayson had made himself vulnerable to the powerful and well-trained dog on purpose.

  "There she is. Come on, buddy. What do you say, Tank? You got my six on this? Help me convince her to listen and hear me out?"

  Tank turned his attention back to Grayson, and the moment Grayson held out his hand and Tank gave Grayson his paw in exchange for a treat, Frankie sighed. Men. Her four-legged hero had just turned traitor.

  Grayson shook with Tank and gave the dog the treat before slowly standing.

  "You may have swayed my dog with treats, but coffee and cookies won't do it for me."

  Grayson grinned. "I'd be disappointed if it did. So how about I start with the truth, all of it, and we go from there?"

  Grayson held his breath as he waited on Frankie's response. He could tell she was on the fence about whether or not to kick him out or hear him out, so the next few seconds ticked by with excruciating slowness.

  "You're not going to give up, are you?"

  "No," he stated, a firm shake of his head confirming his words. He'd waited so long, hoping for another chance with her, and now that it had happened, now that she'd literally appeared on his doorstep, he wasn't about to give up.

  "Fine. Start talking."

  "No. We do this right. You—and Tank, if he makes you feel safe—come with me."

  She blinked up at him, her blue eyes wary.

  "I have work to do. I've been gone for over a week and—"

  "Frankie… the conversation we need to have requires more than five minutes in a garage with you sidestepping me every time I get close." He was pretty sure he heard her mutter so stop stepping close under her breath. “Come with me. Please.”

  She paced across the room and grabbed some hand scrub before moving to a utility sink across t
he way.

  "Fine."

  It wasn't the most agreeable tone but he'd take what he could get. "Tell me how to help you lock up."

  She washed the grime from her hands, and then they spent the next couple of minutes making sure the garage was secure before heading toward his truck.

  Frankie was quiet and he could tell she was overthinking.

  "I should drive."

  "I'm driving." She stopped where she stood, and he could practically hear her boot heels digging into the asphalt beneath them.

  "Tank can't make that jump into your backseat. He'll screw up the pins in his legs if he tries it."

  Pins? He looked at the elderly dog and wondered what all he'd survived. "Hey, buddy. Come here." Grayson unlocked the truck and opened the rear seat door. "No biting me, got it?"

  He bent and very carefully wrapped his arms around the dog's body to lift him into the truck, all too aware of Tank's snout and those teeth having full access to his neck, arm, and shoulder in the process. "In you go. Good boy."

  Grayson stepped back and shut the door once the dog was inside. Next, he opened the passenger door for Frankie and waited. She wanted to bolt, but he now had her dog and there was no turning back.

  "Where are we going?"

  "You'll see."

  She glared at him for a long moment before giving in with a roll of her eyes and a huff.

  Seconds later he was behind the wheel and the three of them were on their way toward the sound end of the island. Frankie alternated between staring out the window and glancing at him when she thought he wasn't aware of it.

  He slowed his speed due to the traffic turning to take the ferry and thanked God for the timing when he spotted the short line of vehicles moving rapidly. He quickly turned and ignored her sharp gasp.

  "We're going to Southport?"

  "You need to eat something and the ride will give us a chance to talk."

  "You just bought me cookies, and we could talk in Carolina Cove."

  "Relax. It's a beautiful day for a ferry ride. Right, Tank?" He glanced at Frankie as he rolled to a stop to hand cash to the woman in the booth.

  "You're all set. Perfect timing."

  "Thanks," he said to the woman. To Frankie he added, "Amazing how that keeps happening, isn't it? Kind of like the universe knows something we don't?"

  She didn't comment. Not that he really expected her to.

  Tank stared out the window from the back, pink tongue hanging as he watched the goings-on with interest.

  Grayson drove onto the ferry as instructed and cut the engine after rolling down the windows. The majority of riders chose to go up top for a better view, but sitting as high as they did in the truck and with Tank to consider, Grayson simply unbuckled his seat belt and shifted to get more comfortable, wishing there was a way to fast-forward so that the story was out and they had already moved on to whatever happened next. "I joined the Marines when I was eighteen. The military was my way to college. I was six years in and still as stupid as ever when I found out my dad had cancer. I'd just re-upped at that point, which was good since he needed help covering expenses."

  Grayson glanced at Frankie and found her staring out the windshield, her gaze locked on some distant point. "As soon as I was able, I came home. By then he was pretty bad off. The chemo and radiation… Daria… She was the wild girl next door. The kind of girl mamas warn their sons about. But when I got to the house that day, she was cleaning up my dad after he'd been sick like it was perfectly normal. In her house, the mess came from partying too hard, but again, not unusual to her. She'd hidden her pregnancy as long as she could, but her father had found out a few weeks before and kicked her out. My dad found her sleeping in his backyard shed and let her stay in my old room. She was grateful. So was I."

  He inhaled and tried to find that spot that seemed to bring Frankie peace. "We kept in touch after I reported back. Daria updated me about my dad, and I asked about the baby. Every chance I got to go see my dad, I did. She was still there caring for him, getting bigger every day, and more and more scared about the future. Getting married seemed to make sense at the time. I had the stability she needed; she took excellent care of my dad. It was… an arrangement at first, but we agreed if we did it, it would be real and we'd make a go of married life. It worked for a while. Mostly because she had my dad watching her and Christopher to care for. Once my dad passed on, though… she started partying like she had in the old days, sleeping around. I'd go home and buddies would… avoid me. And I was naive enough to not understand why for way too long. I didn't want to face it.

  "By the time I got my head on right, it was too late. At least I thought it was. I was deployed, going to school. A dad to Chris when I could be. You know how the military works. How hard it is on the family left behind. I thought maybe if I held on, things would work themselves out, and I wouldn't have to give up Chris."

  Memories flooded his mind with every word. Grayson watched a bird dip and soar in the distance and knew those highs and lows. Knew the crazy that came with mistakes and heartbreak and the realization that he'd royally screwed up. "I could've been a better husband," he said simply. "I was never home, and we were strangers going into it. It was doomed from the start, but I thought I was doing the right thing at the time. I thought it could work. We could work."

  "How did she die?"

  It was the first time Frankie had spoken in a while, and her voice emerged husky and soft, like she'd been drawn into the emotion of the story as much as he had the memories of the good times, few though there were. "Car accident. She made it to the hospital but… I had to decide to keep her on machines or let her go. She had no brain function, complete organ failure. Too much damage. Chris blames me."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Me, too. For Christopher's sake. It sounds cold and I don’t mean for it to, but our relationship was over the first time she cheated. I was done. I knew in Kabul when we almost… I knew that if I ever got another chance to see you and explain, I had to be free no matter what it took. I'd tried before but let things lapse when the papers couldn't be served.

  "I didn't let anyone know I was coming back. I caught her at the house and she couldn't avoid it. Me. She begged me not to leave her. We argued and she… she even tried to seduce me. Like that would somehow fix what was wrong with us. I made her sign the papers by threatening to track down every one of her affairs to have her considered unfit. It was low. She was basically a good mother, but I was desperate. So she signed."

  He heard Frankie inhale and turned to find her staring at him, her expression a mixture of horror and sorrow and shock.

  "Why do I get the feeling that's not the end of it?"

  "Because it wasn't," he said. "After she left, I slept… and I mean slept. I rested in a way I hadn't been able to in years. I woke up to strange noises, though. Crashes and… She was in the garage taking a baseball bat to the Harley my dad had given me. She'd been drinking. I grabbed the bat when she took a swing at me and her blouse pulled up and I knew… why she was so desperate. She was pregnant."

  "Oh, wow."

  "Yeah. By another loser who'd left as soon as she told him." He ran a hand over his head, pinched the back of his neck. "She got away from me. Got in her car and locked the doors and took off before I could stop her. She wrecked a few miles later. And now I'm father to a kid I don't know, who hates me and blames me for his mother's death, and… I'm here."

  Silence followed his words, and he stared out the windshield, letting the quiet settle over them.

  "Craaaaap."

  He blinked at the statement and turned to look at her.

  "I really didn't want to forgive you."

  He fought off the smile that tried to form. "But?"

  "I… get it. I don't know why you were so stupid for so long, but I get how complicated it was to divorce. It's bad enough doing that with both parties in the same city, much less a world away."

  He leaned toward her only to stop when she immediately held
up a palm to stop him.

  "I said I forgive you, Grayson. But that doesn't change the fact you lied to me."

  Chapter 7

  Frankie stared out the window at the passing scenery as Grayson drove from the ferry dock toward Southport's waterfront. They'd remained in silence ever since she'd said it didn't change things because… it didn’t. The ferry had approached the shore and the announcement sounded for passengers to return to their vehicles. With the windows down and the cars so closely parked, discussing anything without an audience was impossible. Not that there was much left to be said.

  She wished she could hear Grayson's thoughts. Did he really think it would be that easy? He was sorry, it was bad, forgive me, let's… what? His story explained a lot of things, but facts were facts. He could have told her. Should have. Long before Kabul.

  "Do you have any favorite places to eat?"

  Eat? She'd thought he'd turn the truck around and get right back on the ferry to take them home, but he'd driven off the ramp and down the road. Now he wanted to eat?

  "You forgive me. It's a start. So let's have some food."

  "And then?" she asked. "You lied to me about something big. Majorly big. Trust is—"

  "Everything. And I screwed up. It wasn't that I didn't plan on telling you, it was a matter of when. I wanted to be free. I wanted it to be part of my past."

  "But if you care for someone, you don't keep secrets. You share things—especially big things."

  "I know. I realize that now. I should have realized it then, but I didn’t, and I will always regret that. Look, sweetheart, I'll do whatever it takes to get you to trust me again. Just give me a chance. Can you do that?"

  Her stomach chose that moment to growl, and she hoped the music playing in the background and the air blowing from the vents disguised it. But a glance at his face and the handsome grin he wore said he'd heard it loud and clear. "I skipped breakfast and we didn’t bring the cookies."