Dark Secrets

by Savannah Kade

  “I came to solve Jimmy’s murder. But it seems the case has gotten bigger than that. So I’m glad you said it was still to find out about Jimmy. That means a lot.”

  Nate’s hand snaked across the console and his fingers wound through hers. It was a gesture she hadn’t had any familiarity with in recent times. But it calmed her, and Grace appreciated that.

  I’m going to solve this, Jimmy, she thought. And she looked across at Nate, now focused on the road again, and changed her thought. We are.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nate almost swerved the car right off the freeway as he shouted. “You have what from Jimmy?”

  Grace had told him—out of left field—about the odd texts she’d gotten from Jimmy. Basically, that she had more evidence.

  “I didn’t think about it. We turned off our phones and ran.” She shrugged, not put off by his outburst. Points to Grace for that. He shouldn’t have yelled.

  “But you didn’t show me the first time we met. That would be important.” He stayed in his lane now looking for the turn off for Fort Collins and wondering if he would have enough luck to find a good cash motel on his first try.

  “Well, to be fair, I didn’t know you when we first met.”

  “But I’m an officer. The officer you were trying to get to reopen your brother’s case.”

  “You’re also the officer who closed my brother’s case on false evidence. Was I just supposed to show you our personal texts?” She didn’t seem angry, just making a point. One that hit home. “And, as I said, it doesn’t name anyone or have anything concrete. I’m just wondering if—knowing what we know now—we might find some real leads in it. That’s all. I’m not withholding evidence, officer.”

  Okay, that last jab was… well, Nate couldn’t really decide if it was a bit too much or if it, too, was maybe warranted. He let it slide. Taking the turn, he focused on finding a place. Once they did that, then they could worry about the phone. “Keep your eyes peeled for a motel you’d rather not sleep in. That’s where we’ll stop.”

  She laughed a little and answered his comment with, “You sure know how to sell this.”

  “Come on, it’ll be romantic.” He’d been joking, but the words were out before he thought about them. He might have said them to any of the other officers he worked with in jest, but here, now, the car went still as she contemplated it. So did he.

  He didn’t want to be with Grace for the first time in a seedy motel. But he didn’t want to not be with Grace either. He was going for the “do this now, and make it up to you later” method. He just needed to make sure there was a “later” for that to happen.

  “Over there.” She pointed to her right, and Nate barely caught the turn in time. Studiously avoiding his comment on romance, she locked herself in the car and waited while he went in to see if he could catch one of the rooms.

  Five minutes later, he was back out with the key. An old, metal one, it dangled from a plastic diamond with the room number etched in. His only consolation at the massive safety issues with a key like that was that the white print had long since rubbed off and only the etching remained. At least no one could read it from across the parking lot.

  Once Grace popped the locks for him, he slid back into the driver’s seat. “I got us second floor, back of the building. We got lucky.”

  She snorted. “Your definition of lucky and mine are not the same.”

  He wondered what she might think of his other definition of “lucky.”

  They were in the room less than two minutes later. The bedspreads were blue and woven cotton. Not polyester like he’d expected. The sheets were no Egyptian, high-thread count number, but they were bright white and clean. Or at least, he saw clean. He wondered what a forensic scientist like Grace saw when she looked at the place. So he asked.

  “It’s better than most. To be fair, I’d rather not get my Luminol and black light out, but I could possibly talk myself into believing I wouldn’t find anything here.”

  He would have asked if she really had those things with her, but he’d been through her bags. She did. He didn’t ask if she always traveled with them. Or if they always nestled in with stretch-lace bras and underwear that managed to walk a fine line between sensible and sexy. “I’m sorry we can’t stay someplace nicer. The cash-and-no-ID problem is severely limiting.”

  “Whatever.” She shrugged as she unzipped her bag and searched for something. “You’d think the price tag on a room would correspond to the amount of disturbing things I can find on a search, but you’d be wrong.”

  “What?” He’d been looking at her ass, thinking about the fact that the bed wasn’t bad, and she’d come back with that. “So even if we were in a nice place, you’d want to get out your supplies and check?”

  “No. I never want to check a room I’m staying in. I don’t want to know. It would take five hours and five floors of a hotel to find a room clean enough to sleep in.”

  Jesus, the woman could kill his romantic mood faster than…well, thinking about what could be found in a hotel room. She turned, with pajamas in hand and a small travel kit. Waving them at him as though to ask permission, she headed into the bathroom.

  He’d been using the supplies Masuka had thought to include in his goody bag. Otherwise, he’d been stuck with motel soaps and shampoos. He ran his hand along his jaw feeling the stubble he’d been unwilling to shave with the kind of cheap razor he might get at a convenience store. He was well past “forgot to shave” but luckily nowhere near “becoming Amish” yet.

  He’d just flopped back on the bed, trying to think what he might sleep in. They’d slept in their clothes the night before, having fallen onto the bed with no energy to spare for anything. But tonight, Grace emerged in a set of white flowy pants and a camisole that clung to her in ways he wished he could. He didn’t have pajamas with him. He certainly hadn’t been about to borrow Grampa Masuka’s. They wouldn’t have fit anyway.

  With only a nod, they traded places. Nate brushed his teeth and washed his face with the low-end washcloth and the soap Grace had peeled the paper wrapper from. He shed the borrowed button-down shirt, but left the white t-shirt underneath. At least it was his. The pants needed to go. He needed to buy jeans, somewhere cheap. Goals for tomorrow, he thought. But he checked his reflection in the mirror and wondered what the hell he was doing.

  Walking back out into the main room, he looked at Grace. She was propped against the headboard with both pillows from the bed tucked up behind her. Was it a signal she wanted that bed to herself? He didn’t know. She was reading on a tablet she’d managed to drag around with her and apparently keep charged as well. He was going to have to hang out with her more often. She was disturbingly together.

  He almost blurted out “Do you want kids?” but at least he managed to keep his mouth shut on that one. Out of the blue it would sound like he could order some up from Amazon or something. Not the tone he was going for.

  She looked up and must have noticed his awkwardness. Though she smiled, her shoulders hunched a little. “These were not pajamas intended for sharing a room with anyone.”

  It was only then that he noticed the white was not only clingy, but a little bit see-through. More than one part of him noticed. However, there were two pillows on the other bed. He pointed and asked uncertainly, “Is that my bed?”

  While she’d taken all the pillows, she’d stayed to one side.

  One corner of her mouth twitched. “Up to you. I mean, we already slept together last night.”

  “Not the way I would have liked.” It was out before he thought about the wisdom of it. Too late to take it back, he decided to let it hang.

  Grace didn’t give it the chance. “Um, that would be your fault.”

  “Okay, true.” He grabbed the pillows off the empty bed and put them in the open space beside her. If it was his decision, this was the one he was making. No more repeats of pushing her away. “But if I hadn’t, we might have missed the text and gotten ourselves b
lown up.”

  “What a way to go, though.” She shrugged one shoulder halfway as though it were a quirky, delicious thought, but just as quickly, he saw the sadness creep into her eyes. She was willing to make a joke, to make the best of things, but she wasn’t immune to what was really going on.

  He’d set the bar in the window and bolted the door. His gun was on the table between the bed. He’d done everything he could to keep them hidden, to keep the room impenetrable. Maybe they could take a little break for just themselves.

  “Come here.” He motioned with one arm, making a place for her against his chest.

  She shook her head. “Not going there—I mean, not going to curl up and be sad.”

  “Want to be something else?”

  This time her smile was genuine. “What else?”

  “Kissed senseless?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The world slipped away in a haze of lust and anticipation as Nate rolled onto his knees and scooted toward her. He seemed to appreciate the jammies she wore at home because they were comfortable. She hadn’t realized until his eyes shifted focus and his nostrils flared just a little that they were slightly see-through. It was a chance she wouldn’t have consciously taken. Not with a man who’d pushed her away twice in the last twenty-four hours.

  She was glad now she’d worn them. Glad she’d sat on one side of the bed and told him it was his choice. Glad his choice had been with her.

  The heat of him engulfed her as he came near, oh-so-slowly entering her space, a look that combined want and need on his face. She sucked in a breath the moment before his lips brushed hers. His touch was soft, but it was anything but sweet.

  Grace melted into the feeling swamping her entire body, though they only touched lips and even then, barely so. She lifted upward, straining for more of a kiss, more of a connection as he pulled back.

  The moment broke. Was he pulling away again? Her heart froze. Once was bad, twice was terrible. A third time and she’d be done with it. With him.

  Nate froze, too, and interpreted the look on her face correctly. “I was just teasing. I’m sorry.”

  “Maybe you don’t tease until you have a better track record.”

  “Touche.” He leaned into her again, the heat returning, the cold receding into the distance.

  Her hand came up against his chest. This time it was her turn. The surprise on his face didn’t stop her. “Are you going to crap out on me again? Are we just kissing and nothing more? What is this, really?”

  His chest heaved in a deep breath and for a moment she wished his shirt was off and that she hadn’t asked anything that might stop their forward progress. She wanted him. She wanted the feel of him under her fingertips. And maybe more than that—maybe scarier than that—she wanted Nate Ryder, the man.

  She’d wanted men before, wanted sex, was attracted. She’d gone out with and dated men she liked and wanted to be around. She’d even met some that fit both categories. But none had blown her out of the water the way this man did. Though he was breathing deeply, looking for his words, she was holding her breath, waiting.

  When he finally spoke, it was smoke over gravel. “This is everything. It’s up to you. It’s all your call.”

  She almost frowned at him again. Sure, he was putting things in her court, and that was nice, but… “You already know my call.”

  “And thank God for that.” He dove at her this time. No teasing, no tempting, just fire and lust and a scent of sex already on the air.

  His mouth took hers and her senses filled as she went under, physically pulled down by strong arms around her. Grace let herself go, strangely comfortable in the arms of a man who should have still been counted a stranger, but was somehow anything but.

  Her hands traced the lines and planes of him, over the thin cotton shirt. He was hard, trained, fit, but the feel of his muscles moving beneath her fingertips excited her in ways she couldn’t put into words. Well, she couldn’t put anything into words right then.

  Her intimate knowledge of the human form guided her fingertips up his arm. Her hand wrapped around, her fingers gripping bicep and tricep, appreciated his collarbone as she slid her hand up and traced the line it offered. She wanted her mouth on him. Did he smell as good up close as he did from here?

  Stupid shirt. Her hands slid down, finding the hem tucked into his pants. Grace was grabbing for it when she was pulled under again.

  She’d been reveling in the feel of him touching her, kissing her, pulling her soul up through her and returning his own on the breath they exchanged. But as she’d grabbed at the thin fabric of his shirt, his knuckles grazed the underside of her breast. Her head tipped back, breaking their kiss with a sound from her throat that she didn’t recognize.

  Had she begged for more? She should.

  The thought had barely passed as his hand moved. She couldn’t even follow the movement, only that he was now cupping her breast, pushing it upward, his thumb passing lightly over her nipple, then again with slightly more force.

  Her hands clenched into the fabric of his shirt and finally they tugged at it. Not because she’d found her senses, but because she’d fully lost them. She was on autopilot, and her body knew what it wanted. It wanted Nate Ryder.

  He stopped touching her as she peeled the shirt upward, but she didn’t mind. Taking the opportunity of having his hands stuck over his head for a moment, she dove forward, licking and biting lightly until he groaned and struggled out of the tangle of his shirt where she’d left him.

  Nate’s fingers wound through her hair and pulled her head up. In a flash, she wondered if he was stopping her, but her eyes flicked to his and she saw the heat flashing there. No, he wasn’t stopping. Neither of them would be stopping. Not until they’d had their fill of each other.

  When would that be? She didn’t know. It wasn’t right now.

  Right now, his mouth was on hers, taking and giving, his tongue sweeping inside. She writhed into him again as his hands roamed. Only as his mouth swept downward, along her neck and down her chest, did she realize he’d grabbed the thin strap of her camisole and taken advantage of the stretchy fabric. He’d dragged it downward, and his mouth was aiming for the peak he’d just exposed. She arched toward him, the two of them coming together again, in a new way as her hands clutched at his hair, holding him to her, and she wondered if there was a way to do that more than just for tonight.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Nate felt his breath rush out as his hand snaked under the waistband of her flowy pajama pants. The top was tight, showing every curve. Now it showed everything, since he’d tugged it down to gaze at the best set of breasts he’d seen.

  She wasn’t what he’d chosen in the past, but it turned out she was what truly turned him on. He wouldn’t have picked the pieces of her, but Grace all together was a sight to behold, and he realized he’d been choosing wrong before this.

  His fingers found her hot and ready for him. Hell, he’d been a damn fool to turn her down last night. And he wouldn’t do it now. What a difference a day made.

  She writhed against his touch. He wouldn’t have said he could get harder than he was, but Grace Lee, legs open, begging him for more did the trick.

  Shaking from the strain of waiting, he slid his hand out, noting her disappointment and smiling at it. With quick movements, he stripped her bare before him, then did the same with his own clothes. The only concession he made was searching his pants pocket and then his wallet for a condom. He hoped it wasn’t expired but he didn’t have it in him to stop and check the date.

  Sitting up, Grace began licking and nipping at him again. It was a struggle to get the damn condom on with his hands shaking from need. With her distracting him, he was going to blow before he got anywhere near her.

  Pushing her back playfully, he finished the job. In one smooth move, he was over her, pushing inside and feeling even the slight grip he’d had on reality vanish. This was Grace. Grace giving herself to him. Grace wanting him. Gra
ce moaning as he pushed and pulled inside her. Grace moving with him, making it that much more intense.

  Whether he said her name on a whisper or roared it into the night, he didn’t know. He was a mass of exposed nerve endings. Want and lust and need somehow rolled together with respect and admiration. When her hands reached to pull him closer, he moved toward her wondering if they were still two separate beings.

  They weren’t. They breathed each other’s air in perfect timing together. They moved as one. And when they peaked, they did that together, too, cries mingling in the night. Limbs tangled together as they came down from wherever they’d been. The fog of her still swamped him and he had just enough wherewithal to roll to his side and not crush her. He pulled her with him as he moved, kept them joined, needed the feel of her still around him, even though the rush was fading.

  A sigh came from her lungs, contented and sated. He felt a smile curl his lips. Grace Lee had stormed in like an avenging angel, to right the wrong of her brother’s death. And now she was naked in bed with him, having let him make her scream. Though his body was thoroughly satisfied, that thought did something for his brain. Grace Lee was his.

  He breathed that in, once, twice, before it occurred to him that he might be wrong. What if she wasn’t his? What if she just liked sex in general but hadn’t felt the world shift the way he had?

  Nate rolled farther away as his thoughts pulled back. When she frowned at him, he covered by saying “Condom” and heading into the bathroom to take care of it. She hadn’t seemed to doubt him or his desire to clean up. But he did.

  As he stared at his reflection in the mirror, he thought he’d looked at his reflection just like this… when? Thirty minutes ago? An hour? He’d wanted her then. He’d had her now. And he still wanted her. She was still out of reach.

  He quirked an eyebrow at Mirror Nate, at least she couldn’t go anywhere while they were on the run. Should he ask her if they were together now or just do his best to make her realize that was how the universe wanted things? Well, it was how Nate Ryder wanted things, anyway.