“That’s true and that’s a mistake I’ll always regret.” A deep frown furrowed his forehead. “I’d won one of the biggest cases of my career that afternoon. Do you remember? I called you and wanted you to drive in, so we could celebrate, but you told me you had other plans for the weekend.”
The heat of anger warmed her face. “So it’s like the old song: if you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with? If I wasn’t available, it was okay for you to just find somebody else? That’s not the way you have a loving, monogamous relationship.”
“That was part of the problem,” he exclaimed, a rising tension in his voice. “We never defined what, exactly, our relationship was. We never talked about it. We never discussed anything important.”
He shoved back from the table with a force that surprised her and got up. “Hell, you didn’t even tell me about your mother. You’d drive to my place twice a month for the weekend, but I didn’t know what you did for the rest of the time. You never shared anything about your life here.”
“And that makes it okay for you to cheat on me? Don’t twist this around, Charlie. Don’t make me the bad guy here.” She embraced her anger, allowed it to fill her. It swept away the grief caused by her mother’s death, the fear about Hope’s future and the concern for her own personal safety.
He leaned a hip against the cabinets and shook his head. “I’m not trying to make you the bad guy. I’m trying to explain to you what my state of mind was that night. I was confused about you, about us.”
“And while we were seeing each other how many other times were you confused?” Her voice was laced with sarcasm. “How many other women helped you clear your mind?”
“None,” he said without hesitation. “You were always the one I wanted, but I never knew how you felt about me. I was afraid to tell you how I felt because I thought it would push you away.” His voice was a low, husky rumble. “Tell the truth, Grace. I was just your good-time Charlie, available for a weekend of hot sex and laughs whenever you could work it into your schedule.”
She stared at him in stunned surprise. “That wasn’t the way it was, Charlie.” Why was he twisting everything around and making it somehow feel like her fault? “Damn it, Charlie, that’s not the way it was,” she exclaimed.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at her with dark, enigmatic eyes. “And the worst thing is we’re back to where we started, only this time I’m your bad-time Charlie. Whenever you need somebody to hold you, to make love to you, you reach out to me because I’m the only man available.”
She stood, her legs trembling with the force of her anger with him. She gripped the edge of the table with her hands. “You feel better, Charlie? You’ve managed to successfully turn your faults into mine. You’ve somehow absolved yourself of all guilt for cheating on me and made it all about my shortcomings. Congratulations,” she added bitterly.
“I don’t feel better. I feel sick inside.” He reached up and swept a hand through his hair, and when he dropped his hand back to his side, his shoulders slumped in a way she’d never seen before. “I love you, Grace. I loved you then and I love you now and you’ve told me over and over again that you can’t—or won’t—forgive me. Well, I can’t…. I won’t make love to you again because it hurts too damn bad.”
He turned on his heels and left the kitchen. A moment later she heard the sound of her guest-room door closing.
She sank back into the chair at the table, her legs no longer capable of holding her upright. This was what he did, she told herself. He twisted words and events to suit his own purposes. It was what made him a terrific defense attorney. It was why she’d contacted him to help with Hope’s case.
He was an expert at making the guilty look innocent, at directing focus away from the matter at hand. He’d used those skills very well right now, but that didn’t change the facts—didn’t make his betrayal her fault.
Damn him. Damn him for telling her he loved her. And damn him for making her love him back. But just because she loved him didn’t mean she intended to be a fool again.
He was right. She refused to forgive him, wouldn’t take another chance on him. Her life was already in turmoil and that’s what she had to focus on.
She had another funeral to plan. Her heart squeezed with a new pain as she thought of her mother. What she’d told Charlie about being friends with her mother was true.
They’d often met for lunch, and on most days Elizabeth would drop into the shop just to see what was new and spend some time with Grace. They’d shared the same sense of humor, the same kind of moral compass that made them easy companions.
So why had Grace been so quick to believe that her mother had done something so uncharacteristic as pack her bags and leave without a word? Instead of fostering her anger, she should have been out searching, beating every bush, overturning stones to find her mom. She should be thinking about Hope. God. She hated the fact that she was only allowed to see her at the detention center once a week. Hope was only able to call her every other day or so.
He loved her. The words jumped unbidden in her mind. Deep inside her, she’d known that he was in love with her. His feelings for her had been in his every touch, in the softness of his eyes, in the warmth of his arms whenever he’d comforted her.
And he was somewhat right about having been her good-time Charlie. When they’d met, she’d still been reeling from her mother’s abandonment, and those weekends with him had been her escape from reality.
But why hadn’t he seen that he’d been so much more than that to her? Why hadn’t he recognized how much she’d loved him then? Maybe because she hadn’t really shown him?
He was wrong about one thing. He was wrong to believe that when she made love with him he could have been anyone, that he just happened to be the man available. She’d wanted Charlie.
Grace felt as if she was born wanting Charlie, but that didn’t mean she wanted to spend her life with him. That didn’t mean she intended to forgive him and let him have a do-over with her.
They couldn’t go on like they were, with him in her face every minute and in her bed whenever she wanted him.
It was time to let him go. She hoped he would still act as Hope’s lawyer, but he couldn’t be her bodyguard any longer. She’d have to make other arrangements.
It had been difficult to tell him goodbye the first time, but then she’d had her self-righteous anger to wrap around her like a cloak of armor. Now she had nothing but the realization that sometimes love just wasn’t enough.
Chapter 12
Charlie walked out of the bedroom and back into the kitchen, but Grace wasn’t there. She must have disappeared into her own room. He poured himself a cup of coffee and carried it to the window, where he stared outside.
How did you make a woman believe that you weren’t the man you had once been? Losing Grace had shaken him to the very core, but it took his father’s death to transform him.
His father hadn’t liked the man he had become—a name-dropping, money-grabbing, slick lawyer who never managed to make time for the man who raised him.
Mark, Charlie’s father, had called him often, wanting him to come home and spend a little time at the ranch. Every holiday Mark had wanted Charlie home, but Charlie was always too busy. And then his dad was gone.
In the depths of his grief, Charlie came to realize his own unhappiness about the choices he’d made in his shallow life in the fast lane.
He’d recognized that what he truly wanted was to get back to the ranch, build a life of simple pleasures and hopefully share that life with a special woman.
When he fantasized about that woman, it was always Grace’s face that filled his mind. He’d wanted her to be the one to share his life and give him children.
But it wasn’t meant to be. There was no forgiveness in her heart, no room for him there. He turned away from the window as he heard the sound of heels on the floor.
He raised an eyebrow in surprise as he saw Grace, d
ressed in a cool blue power suit with white high heels and a white barrette clasped at the nape of her neck.
“I’m going into the shop for the day,” she said. She walked over to where he stood and held out her hand. “Give me a dollar,” she said.
He frowned. “What?”
“You heard me. Give me a dollar.”
Charlie pulled his wallet from his back pocket, opened it and took one out. She took it from him and shoved it into the white purse she carried.
“I’ve just gotten my retainer back for your bodyguard services. I’d still like you to continue with Hope’s case, but your services to me are no longer needed.” Her cool blue eyes gave nothing away of her emotions.
“Are you crazy?” he exclaimed. “Have you forgotten that somebody is out to hurt you? Just because you can’t trust or forgive me, isn’t a good enough reason to put yourself at risk.”
“I won’t put myself at risk,” she replied. “When I get to the shop, I’ll give Dalton West a call and arrange for West Protective Services to keep an eye on me.”
The idea of any other man being so intimately involved in her life definitely didn’t sit well with him. Nobody would work harder than he at keeping Grace safe.
He set his cup down on the table. “Grace, for God’s sake, don’t let our personal issues force you to make a mistake. I can take care of you better than anyone.”
She shook her head, her eyes dark with an emotion he couldn’t discern. “I’m not making one. I feel like for the first time since William’s murder I’m thinking clearly.” She twisted the handle of her purse. “We can’t go on like this, Charlie. It’s too painful for both of us. I have enough things in my life to deal with right now without having to deal with you.”
It surprised him that she still had the capacity to hurt him, but her words caused a dull ache to appear in the pit of his stomach.
“If you defend Hope, I’ll pay you what I would pay any defense attorney,” she continued. “And then we’ll be square.” She pulled her key ring from her purse. “I’d appreciate it if you’re gone by the time I get home from the shop this evening.”
“At least let me follow you to the shop,” he said.
She hesitated and then nodded. “Okay.”
He went back into the guest bedroom and packed what few things he’d brought with him. It wasn’t until now that he realized how much he had hoped that they might be able to let go of the past and rebuild a new, better relationship.
Now, without that tenuous hope, he was empty. He carried his small bag down the hallway and found Grace waiting for him at the front door.
“Ready?” she asked. He noticed the slight tremble of her lower lip and realized this was just as difficult for her.
He nodded, and together they left the house. Charlie’s car was in front of hers, the passenger window now intact. He walked her to her car door as his gaze automatically swept the area for any potential trouble.
When she was safely behind the steering wheel, he hurriedly got into his car. She pulled out of the driveway, and he followed her.
He could see her blond hair shining in the sunlight as they drove, that glorious hair that smelled vaguely of vanilla.
Again a painful ache swelled in his chest. He told himself it was good he got the opportunity to explain that terrible Friday night to her. He’d wanted her to know that he’d loved her despite what he had done.
Not that it mattered now.
He followed her down Main Street and parked in the space next to her. He was out of his car before she could get out of hers.
“I’ll see you inside,” he said, as he opened her car door.
He hovered at her back as she unlocked the shop and then they went in together. “I’ll be fine now, Charlie,” she said once she had the lights on and the Open sign in the window. “Nobody would be foolish enough to try to hurt me here during the middle of the day. People are in and out all day long.”
He felt relatively confident that she was right. In the light of day in a fairly busy store, surely she’d be safe, but that didn’t mean he intended to leave her safety to chance.
“You’ll see to Hope?” she asked, and again her lower lip quivered as if she were holding back tears.
He nodded, the thick lump in his throat making him unable to speak for a moment.
“Charlie, thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I don’t know how I would have gotten through the last week without you.”
“I wish things could be different,” he said, a last attempt at somehow reaching into her heart. “I wish you trusted that I’m different and realized how loving you is the biggest part of me.”
Her eyes misted over and she stepped back to stand behind the cash register, as if needing a barrier between the two of them.
“Just go, Charlie.” Her voice was a desperate plea. “Please just get out of here.”
“Goodbye, Grace,” he said softly, as he walked out the door and out of her life.
She watched him leave and had a ridiculous desire to run after him and tell him she didn’t want him to go. Instead, she remained rooted in place as tears slowly ran from her eyes.
Angrily she wiped them away. It was better this way. They’d had their chance to make it work almost two years before and they’d blown it. Grace just wasn’t willing to risk her heart again.
Stowing her purse beneath the counter, she tried not to think about the last time she’d been here.
Instead she went to the back room and dragged out a box of sandals that had come in so she could work on a new table display.
As she unpacked the cute, multicolored shoes, she tried to keep her mind off everything else. She needed a break. She desperately needed to not think about the murders or Hope and Charlie.
Here, in the confines of the shop, she’d always managed to clear her head by focusing on the simple pleasures of fabrics and textures. During those tough weeks after her mother disappeared, she’d found solace here. And when she and Charlie broke up, this place had been her refuge.
Today it didn’t work. Nothing she did kept her mind off the very things she didn’t want to think about. She had three customers in the morning and sold two pairs of the sandals she’d just put on display.
At noon she realized she hadn’t made arrangements for lunch. Although the café was just up the street, she really didn’t feel comfortable walking there alone. She should have packed a lunch, she thought, as she walked to the front window and peered outside.
She froze as she saw Charlie’s car still parked next to hers. He was slumped down in the driver’s seat but straightened up when he saw her in the window.
What did he think he was doing? They’d each said what needed to be said for closure. They’d said their goodbyes.
She opened the door, and before she could step out he scrambled from his car with the agility of a teenager. “What are you still doing here, Charlie?” she asked him, as he joined her at the door.
“It’s a free country. I’ve got a right to sit in my car in a parking space on Main Street for as long as I want.” He raised his chin with grim determination.
She narrowed her eyes. “What are you really doing?”
“Have you called West Protective Services yet?”
“Not yet. I was going to call after lunch.”
“It’s entirely up to you if you want to hire somebody else, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop watching over you. I can guard you better than anyone you can hire, Grace, because I care about you more than anyone else. Don’t worry, I don’t intend to be an intrusion. There’s really no way you can stop me short of getting a restraining order.”
He’d often accused her of being stubborn, but she saw the thrust of his chin, the fierce determination in his eyes, and she knew it would be pointless to argue with him.
“Fine,” she said, a weary resignation sweeping over her. “You can go now.”
“What are you doing for lunch?” he asked.
“I’m
not really hungry,” she lied.
“Okay, then I’ll just go back to being a shadow,” he replied. He left her standing at the door and went back to his car.
She returned to her position behind the cash register and sat, trying to forget that she now had a shadow she didn’t want and a heartache she knew would stay with her for a very long time.
Thirty minutes later her “shadow” reappeared in the store with a foam container from the café. He set it on the counter in front of her without saying a word, then walked out the front door.
Her stomach growled as she opened the lid. A cheeseburger was inside, its aroma filling the air and making her stomach rumble. She pulled off the top bun and saw just mustard and a pickle. Onions were on the side.
He’d remembered. After all this time, he still knew exactly how she liked her burgers. And it was this fact that broke her.
Tears blurred her vision as she stared at the burger and a deep sob ripped out of her. This time she knew what her tears were for. They were for lost love…they were for Charlie.
She only managed to pull herself together when the door opened and Rachel came in. “I just heard,” she exclaimed, and immediately wrapped her arms around Grace’s shoulders.
For one crazy moment, Grace thought she was talking about Charlie, but then she realized Rachel must have heard about her mother, and that made her tears come faster and harder.
All the losses she’d suffered over the last week came crashing back in on her. “Come on, let’s go into the back,” Rachel said. Grace locked the front door and allowed Rachel to lead her to the office. Grace sat at her desk and Rachel pulled a chair around a stack of boxes to sit next to her.
Grace grabbed a handful of tissues from a nearby box and dabbed at her eyes. “I’ve been so angry at her. I hated her for leaving and now I learn she’s been dead this whole time.”
“Does the sheriff have any leads?”
The Rancher Bodyguard Page 13