“A delivery service, ma’am.”
Carmen backed away from her, horror tightening her features. Grace reflected, realizing how lethal she appeared, and softened her rigid stance and expression.
“Okay. Thank you.” She disappeared into the rear kitchen, her heart beating wildly. He could be watching her this very minute. The thought made her uneasy as hell. What would she even tell the cops, if she decided to call? She had no evidence to offer but a squashed lemon, a bouquet of flowers, and an anonymous card. They’d only tell her attractive women working in the public service industry often had admirers. She could hear their patronizing tone already and vowed not to call the local police station unless she had some hard evidence. Hopefully the hard evidence wasn’t her broken neck.
Mario, the husky Italian chef, found her standing alone in the corner, staring at the wall.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Not exactly. Someone sent me flowers.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” His forehead creased, trying to puzzle why flowers would upset her.
“Not if it’s someone from my past. Someone I don’t want to reunite with.”
He chewed his lower lip, clearly holding back vital information.
“What is it, Mario? Tell me.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing. Just the restaurant Web site blog. Apparently someone was on last night looking for you. Guess they found you online and traced you to the restaurant.”
“How would they trace me here?”
“We listed all the employees in the About section of the new Web site recently.”
Grace fumed. “I told Carlos specifically that I didn’t want my name on any publicity, nothing.” She spun around, her world crumbling around her. “Shit.”
“Who you hiding from, Grace?” He moved in closer, smelling of garlic and basil. “Tell me. I’ll help if I can.”
“Don’t worry about it, Mario. Just a ghost, just a ghost.” She pushed through the swinging doors, entered the restaurant, and began greeting guests. With her being the queen of putting up a façade, nobody would ever guess she was a quivering mess on the inside.
The day continued uneventfully. No creepy stalkers, nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, by quitting time, she forgot all about her troubles until she opened the door to leave. Darkness blanketed the parking lot, leaving only her car and two others in shadows. Dread filled her as she surveyed the area. Silence. Not even crickets in the concrete-covered suburbs. As manager, she was always the last to leave and lock up. A mindless routine that now proved dangerous when some nut job sought her.
Grace flung her purse over her shoulder and jogged across the lot to her car, her key aimed in hand. Her hand shook so badly that she had to stabilize it with the other to get the lock open. Throwing herself into the seat, she snapped the locks close and exhaled.
Got to car alive: check.
As she pulled out of the lot, onto the abandoned street, headlights blinded her, pulling in beside her. The vehicle moved way too fast, either young punks or the crazed ex-husband stalker out to get her. She hit the gas and sped down the street toward her apartment, watching the rearview mirror intently. Sure enough, the bloody car spun around and pursued her. Her breathing became more labored, her chest tense, binding down, crushing her lungs. Forget her apartment. She needed a public place, something that would be hard to find at this hour in this meagerly populated area. The vehicle tailgated her, so she sped up, watching her odometer climb. High beams flicked on and off, but nothing short of the world imploding would make her stop the car.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she cursed to herself as several warning lights lit up at once on her dashboard. She had procrastinated for over a month about taking her car in for service. It continually overheated, but seeing as she only went to work and back, she managed to put it off. Now, travelling at record speed and distance, the car finally decided enough was enough. The smell of burning rubber filled the space, so she let down the windows an inch and kept her foot pressed firmly on the gas pedal. Another mile and the car died, but continued to coast along. She pumped the gas, but knew it was done. Pulling over to the gravel on the side of the road, she prayed the car would pass her by and it was all just her imagination. Nope. It pulled up right behind her. If she had known in advance Ken would stalk her, she would have prepared, had some pepper spray or a 9mm in her purse. Her brain processed her situation at impossible speed.
With the car doors locked, she’d wait until he approached the driver’s side, then bolt out the passenger door and start running across the open cornfields. Ken was grossly out of shape and would never be able to keep up with her, especially with her system riddled with adrenaline. She could run to the next state. She went to the gym every other day and had never been in better shape in her life. Unless he brought his goons—then they could surround her, overpower her, and do God knows what.
A shadowy figure highlighted by Ken’s headlights approached her door, just as she envisioned. As soon as his figure hit the center of her car, she escaped out the passenger side. She ran faster than her legs could carry her, almost toppling over herself. Her brain drowned out all sound, scent, and peripheral vision. All her focus targeted her one escape route through the farmer’s field. Once she got far enough, she planned to crouch down and spend all night in hiding if need be.
“Grace!”
Hearing her name only confirmed the fact she was the target, spurring her to move faster.
“Grace! Wait!”
The cornstalks slapped her face and slowed her down. Using her arms to make a path, she plodded on, but the voice continued to grow louder, closer.
She ignored the painful stitch in her side and tried to take bigger breaths, which proved difficult in such a panicked state. Then the weight of a man pressed her down to the ground, folding the stalks out in a fan around her. She struggled, but he bound her hands behind her back, not allowing her to move. His warm breath, also labored, spread down her neck like a dragon to a meal.
“Grace. It’s me!”
He flipped her over, securing her flailing arms in front of her. His hands iron shackles. She couldn’t focus, everything black with only the moonlight casting a soft glow. The silhouette didn’t match her vision. She squinted.
“Grace, it’s just me. It’s Scot.”
Scot? Scot? She couldn’t process the information. Nothing made sense. Where was Ken, and how on earth did Scot take his place?
“How?”
“I found you online. Found out where you worked. It wasn’t easy either. I’ve been trying to find you since you left, but you hid your tracks well. Yesterday, my Google Alert brought me to your restaurant’s Web site.” He took a cleansing breath. “It was the happiest day of my life.”
“The flowers?”
“Stupid, I know. Shouldn’t have assumed you’d know it was me.”
“You sent those roses? It was you following me?” The revelation started to make sense. This was actually Scot holding her. Her Scot. The one from a life she forced herself to forget every day.
“Yes. Me. Why did you run?”
“I thought you were him. I thought he found me.”
He pulled off of her. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
Grace sat up too, reaching for his arm in the darkness. “Why did you come?”
“Why? Why wouldn’t I, Grace? I haven’t stopped looking for you. Haven’t stopped loving you.”
“But it’s been four months,” she whispered.
She suddenly noticed how quiet it was out in the field surrounded by stalks of corn, civilization miles away.
“What are you saying? Have you moved on? Found a new boyfriend? I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”
She shook her head, realizing afterward he couldn’t see her. “No, Scot. I thought I was just a number to you. When I never heard from you, I just assumed…”
“That I used you?”
“Something like that.”
“Th
ere’s been no one else. These past months, I’ve only thought of you and haven’t been with another woman. Do you believe that?”
She scoffed. “You must be pretty pent up about now, if that’s the case.”
“You have no idea.” He chuckled, pulling her into his lap. The laughter settled, and he whispered softly into her ear, “I’ve missed you, Grace.”
“Me too.” She wasn’t afraid to admit her true feelings anymore. What was the point? She travelled to hell and back and had become stronger for it.
“I’ve dreamed of kissing you every day.”
His minty breath warm against her neck. So close. She tilted her head and shifted in his lap, her arms draping around his shoulders. “Kiss me now. I’m here. I’m real.”
“I told you before I didn’t want to lose you. I meant that. If I hadn’t found you today, I would have kept on looking, travelled across the world, just to get you back.”
“Kiss me,” she insisted. Familiar lust crept into her system, pushing away the fear and insecurity. All that mattered was Scot returning to her. He wanted her. Always had. The knowledge sent a warm rush of heaven, tinged with a sexual heat for this one man, through her blood.
All these months, she improved herself, physically, mentally, spiritually. She didn’t need anyone. But she wanted him, like she wanted to fall asleep to the crickets by night or to feel the wind through her hair as she rode the rolling fields with the horses. The smells, the sights, the feelings they invoked. More than that. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with Scot, side by side as equals.
It amazed her how all the feelings she once harbored for him came back in a rush, as if no time had passed. Feeling him, hearing him, and even smelling him, as familiar as seeing herself in the mirror.
Their lips met, and she knew at that moment she was lost to him.
Chapter Twenty-Four
They managed their way back to Scot’s rental car, leaving her new BMW by the side of the road for the night. She’d have to get it towed in the morning. Spending the divorce money felt liberating, but the cost of a new BMW seemed sinful. She bought second hand and now regret the decision.
He drove them a few miles to the motel he stayed in the night before. Although there was so much to say, they both remained silent. Grace couldn’t take her eyes off Scot. His profile, the dark waves of hair tucked behind his ear, his bare arm resting on the console between them. Not once did he turn to look at her. He drove, lost in thought, and she felt alone in the car with his mind drifting elsewhere.
“I realize I came on a little strong before. I’m sorry about that.” The sound of his deep voice after such a long silence surprised her. “Of course, this isn’t exactly helping my case. Stalking you across the country and chasing you into a dark field at night.” He shook his head, finding humor in his own words.
“Scot, you’re not the reason I didn’t go back. I had to start over…for me, to find myself. I needed to find out where I really belonged.”
“Did you come to any conclusions?”
“I think so.”
More silence. He feared the truth, a truth that may not include him. One thing she had to convince him of was her intentions. She would not have him doubt her a second longer.
“Scot?” she beckoned.
“Do you love Trevor?”
“What?”
“He went back for you when I didn’t. I was an idiot feeling sorry for myself when I should have fought for what I loved. For you.”
She rested her hand on his forearm, the contact soothing. “I never loved Trevor. He knows that, I know that, your father knows that…Why don’t you?”
Scot shrugged.
“You didn’t ask me about my conclusions. I think you should know. All these months I lived in peace and grew strong, did things I wanted to do with no questions asked. But, it was lonely. When your heart is elsewhere, it’s hard to live a fulfilling life.” He still didn’t get it. “Scot…I love you.” It was the first time she actually said the words aloud. It felt good, right, not terrifying as she had imagined. She needed to say the truth, and he needed to hear it.
He still hadn’t responded when they pulled into the parking lot. She hoped she hadn’t pegged him wrong. She couldn’t have. Just being there, proof enough of his intentions.
Scot slid his key card in the door to his suite and held it open for Grace to enter. He flicked on some lights as she strolled to the middle of the room, looking around: two single beds, a dresser, a nightstand, a television, retro paisley wallpaper. Economy suite.
“Sorry, it’s all they had.”
Did he think she judged him? He should know by now that she didn’t have a materialistic bone in her body. She enjoyed spending Ken’s money awarded to her in the divorce, but it held no control over her. She’d give it all up in a heartbeat.
“How long you staying?” This conversation had to become substantial sooner or later. She was too old for games.
He approached her. When close, he tentatively brushed his fingers along her jawline. “I know I have no right to ask anything of you. I’d be a fool to show up here expecting you to drop everything, your job, your home, your new life…just for me. But I missed you, Grace. I don’t want to go on another day without you. I’ll move here if I have to.”
“I know you’re not like Ken. You’re not trying to control me. Scot, I’d give it all up for you. Don’t you see? I can get another job, another home. But not another you.” She reached up around his neck. “Actually, I think I’m a country girl at heart.”
“You mean you want to come back with me?”
“You were right before. I think your dad could use a manager.”
Scot picked her straight up and set her back down with a single kiss. Happiness radiated from him.
He growled against her neck, “God, I’ve missed you.”
She tempted him. “Show me how much.”
Pressing his body along her length, he forced her to walk backward until she hit the hard wall. She could feel his cock, harder than ever, against her stomach.
“I won’t be gentle.” He gripped her hips, holding her in place.
“Gentle is for little girls. Give me what I want.”
Their lips collided, savage and demanding. He hadn’t shaved in days, and a rough shadow covered his cheeks and chin. It gave him a more masculine appeal. She clenched her hands deep in his hair and pulled him closer. Wild desires overwhelmed her. Having Scot back after being celibate for months and all the resulting relief sent a flood of lust washing through her. She needed to bond with him, not just for the sex, but also for love, closure. He completed her; she knew that now.
Grace tugged up his shirt, desperate to see and touch the body she cherished and had dreamed about most nights. She had fucked him in her mind so many times that she must have raised the Energizer stock for how much she used her Silver Bullet.
Scot helped her, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping back down to suck her neck while undoing the buttons of her crisp white shirt. Getting naked became her only priority, next to getting her man stripped down to nothing.
“I missed this body.”
He spread the lapels of her shirt and covered her breast with his hot, hungry mouth. She moaned at the onslaught of electrical impulses flowing straight to her pussy, moist and never more ready.
“Oh God. Fuck me, Scotty. Right now. Against this wall.”
She didn’t need to tell him twice. He had her unzipped and pantless in a few seconds. With a strong hand wrapped around each of her thighs, he heaved her against the wall. She exhaled in a gush as her back hit the hard surface. His primitive need spurred her on.
He fiddled with his zipper while supporting her weight with little effort. She memorized his body, every inch of it, and knowing his thick cock pressed against her sent her nearly to orgasm.
“I never wandered, Grace. I’ve been true to you all these months.”
The tip of his penis found her entrance and, with he
r body drenched for him, it slid in easily. Knowing no woman filled her place all these months brought her comfort, but she wouldn’t have cared regardless. She had Scot back. That was all that mattered.
Grace moaned when his shaft filled her, satisfying a long-held need. She helped him rock in and out of her body, and every stroke ignited a burning passion. Scot sought her mouth, groaned when their lips joined. The months apart only intensified their feelings for each other, and the sex said it all, rough, intense, and desperate.
He pulled her off the wall and walked them across the room, lips still locked together. They crashed onto the bed, Scot disengaging long enough to lose his pants and flip her over to her stomach.
His mouth nipped at her back, her shoulders with sensual skill.
“You want more?” he whispered as he assaulted her ear with warm licks and kisses.
Without speaking, she rose to her knees, nudging him with her rear. Yes, she wanted more. She wanted him forever, every night until they were old and gray.
He didn’t tease her, entering her without hesitation, hard, brutal, just the way she needed it tonight. She gripped the snug-fitting comforter with both fists as he rammed into her.
“Hurry up, baby. I can’t hold out much longer.”
It already surprised her that he hadn’t come yet. His dick, swollen and hard as granite, pulsed in her. But he held back to ensure her pleasure as he always did. It wouldn’t take long for her to reach climax. Her body already felt as if it glowed in that special place where every touch was perfect and magnified. As soon as the pressure rose, the wave of contractions rocked her. She repeated his nickname as if begging for help, and the strength of her spasms surprised even her.
“Oh God, Grace. I can feel you.” Scot groaned as he followed, his hot seed filling her.
She collapsed on the bed, limp and exhausted. Scot lay beside her on his back.
“I missed that.” He sighed the words, almost sang them as if reminiscing on their many sexual episodes. “I missed you.”
When she regained her composure, she tugged the comforter free to cover herself and rolled over to face Scot. “How’s life back on the ranch? How’s your dad? Your mom?”
Saving Grace Page 15