by Jillian Neal
Lifting her eyes to Grant’s concerned gaze, she debated what to tell him and what to keep from him. “You have to understand that my father is very … he’s very by the book. Strict. Military. And he’s been through so much. He probably isn’t doing this to be awful.”
Grant seated himself beside her. “What’s he doing exactly?”
Shame mixed with her anger as it swirled into a maelstrom in her stomach, radiating out to her limbs. “Seth has the security video from the club. The one of me keying his car. I apparently did enough damage to make it a felony offense. Daddy knows I’d pay for it, and he could get Seth to drop the charges, but he found out today that I’ve been lying to him about working for that law firm I told you about. He’s furious, so he has his detectives out looking for me and if they find me, I’ll be arrested. I need to get out of Lincoln. Locked up safe in a prison cell is pretty much how my father would prefer me to be. He’d know where I was and in his mind it’s an appropriate punishment for running out on the wedding and embarrassing our family.”
“What the hell? I’ll pay for the damage you did to the jackwagon’s car. You ain’t getting arrested.” Grant’s infuriated growl sped Kaitlyn’s heart. “Not on my watch. I don’t give a damn what your daddy has to say about it.” Before she knew what was happening, he lifted her off the cold linoleum and seated her in his lap. “Not. Gonna. Happen.”
Intense protectiveness radiated from his musculature. Fervency burned in his pine green eyes. Whatever the hell this magnetism was between them, it was inexplicable. Kaitlyn longed to bury her face against the breadth of his substantial shoulders, curl herself against his chest, and pretend her life was entirely different. No cheating fiancé. No father who was the chief of police with a grudge. No mother who’d lost the ability to exist in reality. None of that. Just him and her. The way it was before the electricity had rudely ushered reality back inside.
“You barely know me. You’re not paying for my mistakes, Grant. Thank you for all you’ve done, but Sophie thinks I need to try to get out of town until Daddy calms down. Now that he’ll know I’m safe, hopefully, my Nana can get through to him.”
“Now, where on the good Lord’s green planet could she go stay where the city of Lincoln police department and the rest of Lancaster County’s finest would have no hope in either heaven or hell of finding her for a few days?” Granddaddy Camden looked oddly pleased. His tone was almost goading.
“I hear ya, Pops, but I still can’t get my truck outta the driveway.”
“Where there’s a will there’s a way, son, and where there ain’t a way there’s a rancher with a chain and a truck hitch that could pull them trees outta the way.”
“I don’t understand. Where are you going?”
Chapter Nine
Grant searched for the irritation or the fear he knew he should feel. He’d gone from having her ram her city-girl car into the hitch on his new truck to harboring a fugitive, which would get him in a heap of trouble if they got caught, and yet all that mattered was getting her to the ranch and keeping her safe.
Usually a rancher who much preferred not to offer trouble a seat at the table, he had no hesitations. She might not know it yet, but she was going to be his. And he always took care of what belonged to him.
Her daddy was obviously a real piece of work. My God, no wonder she went running off to marry some piece of shit that was cheating on her. Girl had no one who cared about her at all, save maybe her sister, and Grant wasn’t giving anyone in her family any allowances at this point.
Daughter of the chief of police. He grunted to himself. If they’d met on any other day under any other circumstances, he would’ve sized her up as a spoiled little rich girl—and he would have been summarily wrong. Not spoiled. Not at all. And not a little girl either. She was all woman, and damn, if he didn’t still want to prove that to her. Her family surely had money enough for a country club wedding, but that wasn’t Kaitlyn.
“I’m taking you out to my family’s ranch. It’s two hours due west. Long as we get out of Lincoln without getting caught, no one will know where we are. You can stay as long as you like.”
“Stay … with you?”
Trying desperately to gauge her question, he noted the hint of fear coupled with a hearty dose of hope in her eyes. Did she want to stay with him or did it frighten her? Jesus, what the hell was he doing? This looked a whole lot like dragging her off to his cave.
“You … uh … you don’t have to stay with me. You could stay with Mama and Daddy or you can stay in the cottage. My cousin rebuilt most of it last fall. It’s warm now. Little closer to the entrance off the road than I’d like you to be, but I ain’t gonna make you do anything you don’t want to do. I’m just trying to help.”
“I know you won’t. Thank you so much for everything. If you don’t mind me staying with you, I think I’d like that. Maybe I could … help out on the farm or something. Or cook. I’m a good cook.”
Grant bit back a chuckle. Poor girl had clearly been raised on asphalt. “It’s a cattle ranch, sweetness. It ain’t a farm.” Maybe he could show her how country boys made life work. Hell, maybe she’d like it. He’d donate his left nut to see her bobbing up and down in King’s Creek nekkid beside him with her toes in the mud. Or maybe wearing nothing but a pair of them lacey panties and some cowgirl boots. Ideas of her spread-eagle in the bed of his truck sizzled under his skin. He reached out and grasped her hand, needing to touch her skin again. The way she gripped his palm said she desperately needed something to cling to. Well, he was the man for the job.
Shaking himself, he tried to mentally prepare for what had to happen. “They ain’t set up roadblocks or anything like that, have they?”
“No. Well, I don’t think so. Sophie’s going to tell him I’m not in Lincoln anymore, I think.”
The sister moved up a few notches in Grant’s book.
“Then let’s get.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind doing this? I feel terrible causing you all of this trouble.”
“Oh, now, some trouble’s worth having. Very rarely in this life will you find that the right path and the easy path are one in the same. Paths still gotta be hoed,” Pops explained to Kaitlyn. Grant had been told that very thing all his life. His daddy and his granddaddy, and hell, even his great-granddaddy had been quoting it forever.
One thing Grant had noticed in his thirties that never made it into the adage: the easy path might not be the right path, but that didn’t make the right path any smoother to forge.
“Let’s go see ‘bout moving them trees,” Grant commanded.
“How are you going to move tress in the dark?” Concern and shame still dominated Kaitlyn’s tone.
“I’d go with very carefully.” He winked at her, rather liking the way she always grinned involuntarily at him when he did that.
“What happened to ‘the ground is too wet to drag the trunks out the way with my truck?’” Grant demanded of his grandfather as they slogged out towards the end of the driveway, following the flood of light from their lanterns.
“Well, now, see, I figured having you two locked up here a few days would help things take to root a little easier. But circumstances changed and getting her in the ground and growing out on the ranch is an even better idea.”
“You are aware she’s a woman not a corn stalk, right, Pops?”
“I ain’t ever seen you groping a corn stalk in my living room, but I’d dare say she does need tending. You can look in her eyes and see she’s lost and ain’t been cared for. She needs to be taken care of, and she needs it from a man who knows what it means to work for something, even when the going gets tough. Somebody who’s going to love her and protect her. Somebody she can count on. Somebody who’s aware of her value and who knows the cost of losing a woman like that and vows never to let that happen. You won’t never convince me that fate didn’t have her driving her car up on your truck. Your grandmamma always says there are no accidental meetin’s. You can’
t argue with her or with fate.”
“Mama’d tell you I could argue with most anything, and we ain’t talking vows yet. And we ain’t going to be talking like that for a damn long while. She just left one shit-whistle at the altar. And I wasn’t groping her. I was … doing something else.”
“Mm-hmm. You had your hands so far up that nightgown get-up she was in, you embarrassed the stuffing out of my sofa. Taking advantage ain’t exactly what she needs right now.”
Agitation roiled in Grant’s gut. That was far too close to the truth for his liking. “I wasn’t taking advantage of her. She came in there and ….”
“You decided to help yourself to the pickings.”
Too frustrated to keep going and refusing to have this conversation with his grandfather, Grant rolled his eyes.
“I ain’t saying I blame you. I’m just saying you kids get right to the dessert ‘fore you’ve ever had time to enjoy the meal these days. Feels better if you’ve earned it ‘fore you spend it.”
“We gon’ move these trees or not?”
“Yeah, we’re gonna move ‘em. Get that chain wrapped around that tree trunk. You need to get out of here ‘fore sun up, but just think about what I said. When you get her to your house with miles of ranchland any direction, maybe take some time to get to know her mind and her heart ‘fore you get to know the rest of her. It’ll make the getting to know the rest of her even better.”
Grant gave his customary, non-committal grunt.
“Easy now. Watch the mud,” Pops called as Grant slowly pressed the gas. The metallic click of the chain feeding itself between his hitch and tree timed the turning of the tires. He felt the truck pull and pressed the accelerator harder.
The branches gave several hisses as they dragged across the gravel. Soon enough, Grant had eased the tree away from the others that blocked their escape. Hopping out of the truck, he pulled on his gloves and helped his grandfather guide it off the driveway.
“One down. One to go,” he brushed the dirt from his gloves.
“That’s assuming you ain’t stuck now.” Granddaddy gestured to the back tires of the Sierra swamped in mud.
Grant had to give it to his Granddaddy’s old Ford F-100. This time the chain was between the trucks and it was the Sierra that was being dragged out.
Eventually, the trees were moved enough for Grant to get the truck out, but they’d lost precious time. Sun would be up showing off things that might not want to be seen all too soon.
“Grant,” Granddaddy halted his path back in the house to hurry Kaitlyn along. “You mind your business out there. Keep your wits about you. Any man with enough hurt to lock up his own daughter for not wanting a life it sounds like he dictated to her wouldn’t think a thing of doing even worse to you.”
“I’ll be fine, Pops. I’ll get her to the ranch and we’ll go from there. ‘Sides, her old man don’t sound hurt to me. He sounds meaner than a striped snake in a handling-church. I ain’t having her around that anymore.”
“I hear ya, son, but listen to your Pops for just a second ‘fore you go off trying to outrun whatever may be coming. Angry people always want you to see how powerful they are and they’ll stop at nothing to show you that. And meanness ain’t nothing but hurt’s most trusted pistol.”
“I can’t believe I’m actually a fugitive,” Kaitlyn finally spoke. The silence was getting to her. How did Grant ride like this? No radio. Nothing to distract them. Just quiet.
His response was once again a grunt. The tension in the cab of his massive truck felt like concrete bricks stacked around her. The air was disappearing. She couldn’t stand it anymore.
“So, do all cowboys grunt like you instead of using actual words? What do they even mean? I’m freaking out over here. I’m going to get you in trouble. If we get caught, Daddy will probably have both of us arrested. I ran into your car and now I’m making you hide me from my own stupid family. Why don’t you yell at me or something? Can you do anything but grunt?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. Nice job, Kaitlyn. Your temper decides to make its triumphant return, not in front of the people who actually deserve to be on the receiving end of it, but on the one man who’s willingly risking his neck for you. “Sorry,” she managed dejectedly.
He held his right hand out to her palm up.
“Why are you doing that?”
“Hold my hand,” he instructed calmly.
Simply because she’d just chewed him out for no good reason, she obeyed.
“Good girl. Now, you want me to pull the truck over so you can get out and do the whole bit, stomp your feet and everything, or you about done with that little fit?”
“I said I was sorry. The quiet gets to me. Makes me think too much.”
“Mm-hmm, and what is it you don’t want to think about so bad, peaches?”
“Why do you keep calling me peaches? I get darlin’, or sweetheart, or baby, or whatever,” she tried to mimic his low western drawl but only succeeded in making him chuckle. “But why peaches?”
Glancing towards her, he smirked. “You really want me to tell you why I call you peaches, peaches?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”
“’Cause you look damned good enough to eat, and it’s taking most of my thought-processes to keep from taking a bite. Might be why I’m grunting instead ‘a talking. But I ‘spose sometimes I do it ‘cause I’m processing what you said and deciding on how to best answer. Also trying to decide if that cop car is following us or if he’s just making his rounds. Might need to get off 80 and on the state roads for the time being. Soon as we get to rural routes, I figure we got it made,” he supplied without missing a beat. Heat flooded her cheeks.
It took her a moment to process the comment about the cruiser. “Dammit, Daddy, I swear, one day I’m going to stop taking all your shit,” she spat to the air around her. Spinning in her seat but trying to remain hidden she narrowed her eyes to make out the number on the car. “Can you see the black numbers on the side? Maybe I can tell who it is.”
“Not unless you want me to let him get closer.”
“No. Don’t do that, but also don’t speed. Don’t give him any reason to pull you over. Are your tags current? Your mirrors aren’t cracked, are they?”
“See, this is why I grunt. Keeps you from flipping your lid. Somebody needs to simmer you down, sugar. Give you somewhere to put all that crazy. Take it easy. I ain’t gon’ let anything happen to you. And weren’t you chastising me about my filthy mouth a few hours ago?”
“New-Kaitlyn didn’t cuss.” Never before, even after the day and night she’d endured thus far, had she ever wanted the ability to vacuum words she’d just spoken back into her mouth. Clamping her teeth together she willed Grant not to have heard her. For once in her life, couldn’t someone else have a hard time hearing?
“New-Kaitlyn?”
Well, so much for that hope.
“I take it you think there was something wrong with Old-Kaitlyn?”
Perceptive cowboy, wasn’t he? “Never mind.” She slunk further down in her seat in an effort to disappear both from the cruiser that was coming up on Grant’s side and from Grant himself.
To her dismay, he slowed the truck.
“What are you doing? He’s going to be able to see in here.”
“Talk.”
“What?”
The cruiser gained ground. Kaitlyn’s heart leapt to her throat and beat out some kind of tribal cannibalistic ritual dance before a feast. “Please, just drive faster.”
“Fine.” He sped up. “But we’re gonna talk. You got all huffy about me being quiet, so talk. You leapt in my arms when we were in the shelter. I undressed you, and sugar, forgive me for being frank, but you climbed up on me while we were kissing like you wanted me to answer all them questions your body was asking of mine. I’m taking you home and we’re gon’ see where this goes because I ain’t gonna sit here any longer pretending we ain’t got something going on. You know
we do. No matter how fast it’s been. And I tell you something else, this crazy thing we have going on is damned good, and I intend to keep it that way and see where else this road’s gonna take us. I told you I shoot straight. Never done it any other way. But I expect the same from you. Now, tell me what the hell all this is about New-Kaitlyn and Old-Kaitlyn and anything else I need to know about you.”
Abject panic throbbed in her chest. Her hands went numb. She couldn’t tell him. He’d never understand any of it. She didn’t possess the courage to explain how incredibly weak she was. How she’d changed most everything about herself to make her parents happy. She couldn’t tell him about Keith because if she stated what had happened to her twin brother out loud that would make it even more real. For that one moment in time, she desperately needed it not to be real.
She needed her brother to be out there somewhere, rooting for her even if she couldn’t see or touch him, even if she would never hear his voice again.
“Kaitlyn?” Grant’s voice took on a tender tone much different from the one he’d had a moment before when he was explaining to her how he thought this was going to work.
Before she could open her mouth to supply him half-answers enough to keep him driving, blinding blue lights pulsed in the rearview mirror.
Chapter Ten
“Shit,” Grant growled out in far more syllables than was probably necessary.
“Oh, my God. Grant, I’m so sorry. I’ll get you out of this. Let him arrest me. If he cuffs you, just don’t say anything. I’ll talk to Daddy. I’m just so sorry.”
“Would you hush up a minute, sweetness? I said I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you. I don’t go back on my word.”
“Wait.” Kaitlyn spun and scooted up on her knees to lean closer to the back windshield. Grant resisted the urge to grab a handful of her sweet little ass, both because he’d wanted it back in his hands ever since their little impromptu grind session had been so rudely interrupted and to jerk her back into her seat. “That’s Josh!” she declared like this was somehow great news.