Grace Under Fire

by Jerri Drennen

  Mrs. Andrews walked back into the room and handed him a picture. Tears filled her eyes as she touched the little girl’s head. “This is my daughter, Lily. She looks so much like her father.”

  “She’s beautiful.” Cord rose from the chair, placing his glass on the table. “Thanks for the picture, and the lemonade. I’ll let you know if I find out anything.”

  “Thank you. My husband deserves to be found.”

  “And I’m going to try to do that. Thanks for your time, Mrs. Andrews.”

  Cord left with the image of the little girl stuck in his head.

  If Martin Andrews were dead, what kind of life would that little girl have? Daycare. After-school programs. A latchkey kid, left alone for hours to fend for herself. Cord cringed at how her life would inevitably change, possibly being as awful as his had been.

  When he was seated in his car, he glanced at the picture Cynthia Andrews had given him, and did a double take.

  The man could be Vince’s brother. He had the same build, the same hair and eye color. The red Corvette popped back into his head. Could that man have been Martin Andrews? If that were the case, his wife didn’t know him as well as she thought.

  Cord cursed himself for not getting the license plate number. He could have traced the car. Now his only option was to run a check on all red Corvettes in the Chicago area. Not much to go on, but it could narrow the field a little. Maybe he could shorten it further by looking for male owners in their early thirties.

  Cord turned the car onto Roosevelt, heading back to the Ninth. As he drove, his mind drifted to Grace. Had she received the flowers he’d sent her? Had the card’s sentiments brought a smile to her face? He could only hope. From the moment he’d woken that morning, he’d inwardly had one on his.

  He released a ragged breath. Grace had changed his outlook on life overnight, and he’d forever be indebted to her for that.

  Grace Under Fire

  Chapter Eighteen

  Grace studied her reflection in the full-length mirror, turning to her side to look at the back of the short, black dress Emily had loaned her.

  She smiled as she recalled Cord calling from the precinct to ask her to dinner. He had told her to dress up and he’d pick her up at seven. She hoped he approved of what she’d chosen to wear.

  Grace glanced at the wall clock, butterflies creating havoc in her stomach.

  Fifteen minutes.

  She picked up the black shawl Emily had also let her borrow and headed down the stairs.

  Her sister stood at the bottom of the banister. “Oh, Grace. You’ll knock his socks off.”

  Grace whirled around, happy and excited to be spending an evening on a real date with Cord. The first, and hopefully, with more to come.

  The doorbell rang, and Grace jumped halfway out of her skin.

  He was early.

  “I’ll get it.” Emily rushed to the door.

  Seconds later, she came back with Cord in tow. He took Grace’s breath away. He wore a dark suit that fit as if it had been custom-made for him, and a crisp white shirt with a heather-gray tie. She glanced at his handsome, smiling face and noted he’d gotten a haircut.

  In his hand was a heart-shaped box of candy. Flowers and candy, all in one day. It was like Valentine’s Day.

  His gaze met and held hers. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, then placed his hand on the small of her back and gave her the candy. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes.”

  Emily winked at Grace. “You two have a good time.”

  Grace smiled and caught the amused glance Emily gave Cord. She was glad they were on their way out; otherwise Cord would probably have had to endure embarrassing questions, the ones she’d managed to avoid, about their night together.

  Emily had wanted to hear every last detail, down to each kiss, but Grace had refused to tell her anything. Their night had been special, and she didn’t plan to broadcast it to the world, no matter how much her sister begged.

  In the car, Cord leaned over and brushed his lips over hers, then drew back. “I’ve been waiting all day to do that.”

  Grace sighed. “Was it worth the wait?”

  His brow arched. “Definitely.”

  Grace buckled her seatbelt. “So, where are we going for dinner?”

  “That’s a surprise. I hope you’re hungry.”

  She patted her stomach. “Starved.”

  “Good, because where we’re going, you’ll need to be.”

  ****

  Cord opened the car door for Grace, closing it when she’d settled herself. He looked back at Ruby’s, the restaurant where he’d just enjoyed one of the biggest, juiciest steaks he’d ever eaten.

  When he’d gotten back to the precinct that afternoon, and after calling Grace to ask her to dinner, he’d asked Captain Harris where he’d take someone special, and the captain had suggested this place. Cord had quickly made reservations and left the precinct to buy a suit and get a haircut.

  He wanted their first evening as a couple to be perfect, and so far it had been, down to how gorgeous Grace looked. She was more beautiful than any woman had a right to be. Her hair had been pulled off her neck, and he’d had a hard time not nibbling at the exposed flesh.

  Last night’s lovemaking came back to stir his body. The woman had completely satisfied him. The only thing he wished had been different was her going off to bed without him. He’d wanted to wake up in her arms, but being under her sister’s roof made that impossible.

  Once they caught the Peeping Tom/shooter and they were alone in Grace’s house, though, things would be different. He’d insist on spending the whole night in her bed—every night—for the rest of their lives.

  What was he thinking? Every night? The rest of their lives? Would she even want that? He wasn’t sure she felt the same way he did. He loved her. Would do anything to be with her.

  Would she do the same? Did she want them to have a future together?

  Cord sighed. He and Grace had so much to talk about, but they couldn’t think of being together forever until all this mess with Vincent’s indiscretions and Grace’s safety were cleared up and behind them.

  Obviously that would have to be a priority for him. He needed Grace, and he wanted everyone else to know she was his, especially Mike Tidwell.

  He made his way around the car and opened his door. As he leaned in, he heard a loud pop, flinching when his window shattered. He scrambled into the car to cover Grace, his lone thought to protect her.

  Squealing tires brought him back up, a blur of red taillights the only thing in sight.

  “Cord, you’re bleeding,” Grace cried, her eyes huge with fear. Cord looked at his arm and noticed a hole from which blood seeped. So much for his new suit.

  Grace quickly got out of the car, slammed the door, and came around. “Move over. We have to get you to the hospital.”

  In a daze, Cord slid to the passenger seat and watched her start the car. She pulled out of the lot and raced down the boulevard, swerving in and out of traffic. Cord held his arm, angry with himself for not sensing something was wrong. But when Grace was with him, his reaction time was muted. She distracted his every thought.

  They pulled in front of the hospital emergency entrance, and Grace helped him out of the car.

  Entering through a revolving door, they met a nurse, who instantly took control.

  Cord was shoved into a wheelchair and taken to a partitioned area, then helped out of his suit coat and shirt so the wound could be examined.

  The doctor pulled the curtain back right as the nurse started cleaning the entry and exit wounds. The bullet had entered through the back of his arm, exiting through the front.

  “What do we have here?” the gray-haired physician asked the nurse.

  “Gunshot wound, Doctor.”

  “Have the authorities been contacted?”

  Cord remained quiet until police were mentioned. “I’m a cop. Somebody took a shot at me outside Ruby’s Bar and Grill.
” The doctor tipped his head to the nurse, who rose and slipped behind the curtain.

  “Let’s take a look at this.” He examined the wound. “We’ll take some x-rays to make sure there’s no damage inside. But it looks like a clean shot through muscle tissue. As long as there’s no other involvement, we’ll probably just flush the wound and stitch it.”

  Cord released a breath and nodded.

  “Okay, let’s get those x-rays taken.” The doctor placed his hand on Cord’s shoulder. Cord stood, then followed him down a narrow hall, his mind on what had happened. This was a second attempt on his life. Whoever had taken the shot tonight was getting better. If Cord didn’t find the gunman and soon, the next shot might actually kill him.

  Grace paced the small waiting room, the sterile antiseptic smell in the air churning the acid in her stomach. She glanced around and saw a young woman sitting in a padded orange chair, a toddler sleeping in her arms. Why were they here? Was the child’s father in Emergency, too?

  Grace stopped her pacing long enough to pick a magazine off a rack, then put it back. She was too nervous to read.

  Hadn’t she promised herself never to put her heart at risk again?

  Hadn’t she done just that with Cord? She knew this wasn’t a life-or-death situation this time, but what about the next shooting, or the next? He was a cop. He put his life on the line every day.

  Could she allow herself to fall in love with him, knowing that? Fall in love?

  Right. It was too late. She was already in love with him. Every breath she took, every beat of her heart, was for Cord.

  She shook her head. When had this all happened? Last night? Last week? She didn’t know for sure, but she was deeply, thoroughly, desperately in love with Cord, and nothing or no one could change that. Not now, not after their night together.

  “Grace,” Mike Tidwell called, drawing her out of her thoughts of love. “What are you doing here?”

  “Cord was shot. I drove him to the hospital.”

  “Yeah, that’s why I’m here. The hospital reported a gunshot wound. Harris sent me.”

  Grace didn’t know what to say. Mike Tidwell gave her the creeps. He could be the guy spying on her and the one who’d taken a shot at them at her shop. She’d have to be blind not to see he was interested in her.

  He placed his hand on her shoulder and asked, “So, what, Cord was shot at your sister’s?”

  Grace drew back. His touch sent a cold chill racing down her spine.

  “No. He was shot outside Ruby’s Grill.”

  Mike’s eyes widened in surprise, which said to Grace he hadn’t been the shooter, at least this time.

  “Why were you two at Ruby’s?”

  “We were having dinner.”

  His eyes darkened. “Dinner? Why would you go to dinner with Rawlings? You do know what his mother was, don’t you? A whore. He’s scum, Grace. You’re not dating him, are you?”

  Grace closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying hard to keep her temper in check. Why would Cord’s mother being a whore have anything to do with him as a person? It’s not like he’d had any control over what family he was born into.

  “Mike, I don’t think you have any right to discuss Cord’s mother or his private life. And yes, I’m seeing him. He’s a wonderful man.”

  A throat cleared behind her.

  Grace twirled around, her face burning with embarrassment when she saw Cord, his left arm held in a sling.

  His eyes sparkled with amusement until he looked at Tidwell. “You need to get a crew out to Ruby’s and look for evidence. You’ll see the glass where my car was parked when I was hit. I’ll take Grace to the station and file a report.” He took hold of Grace’s arm and they headed for the exit.

  Grace didn’t know what to say. Had he heard her confession? Was he all right with everyone at the Ninth knowing they were dating?

  “Cord, I—”

  “Thanks, Grace.”

  She stopped and faced him. “For what?”

  A smiled curled his lips. “For bringing me to the hospital. For putting Mike in his place.” He hesitated, then said, “For last night.”

  Grace glanced down, her skin prickling with excitement.

  Cord tipped her chin up and kissed her, a light brush of his lips that left her wanting more.

  But the hospital was hardly the place to show Cord how much she wanted him, and truth be told, he was in no shape to repeat last night’s performance anytime soon.

  Grace Under Fire

  Chapter Nineteen

  Cord and Grace slipped in the back door, hoping not to wake Emily, Charlie, and the baby.

  “I think you should take the bedroom tonight.” Grace gently touched his arm as they paused in the kitchen. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  “No, Grace. You take the bed.”

  Her green eyes searched his, filled with concern. “You’re hurt. You won’t be able to get comfortable on the sofa.”

  Cord shook his head, a wry smile playing across his mouth. “I won’t be able to get comfortable, period.”

  “Are you in a lot of pain?”

  “Yes, but not the kind you think.”

  She looked confused. “Can I do anything?”

  Cord gulped. What a question. He didn’t want to tell her how she could take away the ache. She’d think he was a letch. Since they’d left the precinct, all he could think about was how Grace had defended him to Tidwell and how she’d even told Mike they were dating. The reverence in her voice had spoken volumes. She cared about him, and Cord wanted to take her in his arms and show her how much that meant to him—to hell with any discomfort his arm would endure. His libido took precedence over anything else right now, and he wanted Grace more than he had last night, if that were possible.

  “Please let me help,” she pleaded, drawing him back to her.

  Cord studied Grace’s face intently. Watched as wisps of her blonde hair fluttered about her face, stirred by the ceiling fan above them. Her lips parted as if she was about to say something. He knew at that moment he had to have her.

  Time seemed to stand still as he watched the pulse point at her throat thrum like a well-oiled machine.

  “Could we sleep in the guestroom together?” He waited for her look of disgust, but it never came. She actually smiled, then took his hand and led him to the staircase.

  Cord’s heart did a back flip in his chest.

  “We’ll have to be real quiet,” she whispered when they stepped onto the top landing.

  The guestroom was located on the opposite side of the house from the master bedroom, which was a good thing. Cord didn’t exactly want Charlie and Emily to overhear what was going to happen between them.

  They tiptoed to the door and she slipped inside. He followed her into the moonlit bedroom and closed the door behind them with a soft click, then stood in silence, watching Grace turn down the bedcovers.

  She faced him again, smoothing her skirt, her gaze moving around the room.

  “Grace.”

  The quiet admonishment brought her attention to his face. “I’m a little nervous.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Yes.” The word held such conviction that Cord didn’t question it.

  He smiled and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, finding it difficult with one hand.

  Grace rushed to his aid, her hands covering his. “I’ll do it.” As she worked the buttons free, Cord took in the fresh, flowery scent of her hair. He caressed a loose strand between his fingers, amazed at its softness. Inhaling, he tried to imprint the fragrance on his memory.

  “I’m going to have to take the sling off. Will you be okay?”

  Cord nodded and held his breath as she released the snaps. He flinched when he tried to straighten his arm. It was already stiff. God help him if he couldn’t make love to her in his condition. “I’m not sure how we’re going to—”

  “We’ll figure something out.” She unbuckled his belt, then looked u
p and winked at him.

  Cord kicked out of his shoes.

  With nimble fingers, Grace had him out of his shirt and pants, standing naked in front of her, then took his hand and led him to the bed. “Lie down, and I’ll be right behind you.” Her eyes sparkled and Cord’s cock hardened.

  He lay on his back and watched impatiently as she undressed, every movement seductive. It was agonizing, yet it made him hotter than he’d ever been in his life. His fingers itched to touch her, his mouth yearning to taste every last inch of skin.

  When she stood naked, moonlight casting a surreal glow over her body, Cord could hardly contain himself. She had him so hard it hurt. He was ready to explode.

  She unpinned her hair, silky tresses falling in waves around her ivory shoulders.

  The woman was an angel to look at, but after last night he knew she was also a hellion in bed. A perfect combination in his eyes. And she was his.

  She crawled onto the bottom of the bed, working her way toward him, like a cat on the prowl. Cord was thankful he was her prey. Her velvety hands slid up his calves, trailing along his heated skin, stirring his desire further.

  As her fingers worked up his thighs, he sucked in a ragged breath, sure that before she was through, he’d lose his mind.

  When her fingers encircled his erection, he squeezed his eyes closed.

  Slow, deep breaths, Cord. Think baseball. Think control...ah, hell.

  With purpose, her soft, pliant fingers moved up and down his shaft at a slow, torturous pace until Cord groaned and opened his eyes, noting satisfaction in hers. “Come here,” he growled and, using his good arm, drew her to him, his lips crushing hers.

  He cupped her neck, deepening the kiss, intent on sending her over the edge as she’d done to him. His tongue traced along the line of her mouth, and when she opened to him, his tongue darted inside to blend with hers.

  He pulled back to look at her. “Grace, I’ve thought about kissing you all day. At dinner I couldn’t stop watching your lips.”

  His hand left her neck to explore her breast, palming her nipple until it beaded tight, then moving on to her flat belly. To revel in her petal-soft skin.