“My God! He does that on purpose,” she said.
Grady laughed. “He’s no dummy. The boy smells food and sees a pretty lady. What do you expect him to do? Let all that good stuff get away?”
She looked down at the animal spread like a bearskin rug on her kitchen floor and remembered all those animals at the shelter. They deserved homes as much as any other dog. “I never really wanted a dog.”
“He needs you.” Grady stroked his hand along the dog’s back. “And you know you want him.”
“Talking about me again?” All three heads in the kitchen turned to the sound of Blake’s voice in the open doorway. He had a bottle of wine in his hand. “Who’s this?” he said.
“Lucifer.” Haylie stood up and washed her hands in the sink. “Lucy for short.”
“A boy named Lucy?” Grady said. “That’s animal cruelty!”
“It’s payback,” she told him, “for that look that’s going to have me giving into his every whim.”
“Another devil, huh?” Blake scratched Lucy behind the ear then turned his attention on Haylie. “You wouldn’t have lunch with me, so I thought I’d try dinner.”
“And you expected me to cook?” She glanced to the bottle of wine he’d set on the counter. He’d changed clothes after work and looked good enough to eat in the soft polo and khakis he wore. Lucy definitely wasn’t the only devil in the kitchen right now.
“Looks like you already cooked,” he said with a grin. “What are we having?”
“Crap!” She hurried back to the stove. “The linguini’s stuck together and the sauce is lumpy.”
“Warm up’s my specialty,” he said, walking around Lucy to wash his hands in the sink. “If you open the wine, I’ll take it from here.”
“Have you ever taken no for an answer?”
He pulled her close and pressed a soft kiss to her lips that rocketed to her toes and left her weak in the knees. She melted into the warmth of his body and the embrace of his arms. “I like it when you say yes so much better.” He squeezed her waist and gave her a wink. “If you want to kick me out after dinner I’ll go, but be warned I’ve got plans that include you begging me to stay.”
* * * *
Blake lay with his arm slung around her waist, his chest warm against her back, and his hand curled on the bed next to her. She grazed her fingertips over the pads of his fingers where his skin was rough enough to send chills of friction when he touched her, but smooth enough to deliver the most delicious pleasure she’d ever encountered.
Tonight, he had seemed particularly attuned to her needs, treating her as if she was the most precious thing he’d ever held in his hands. He’d undressed her slowly, caressing her skin, searching her eyes. At first this ultra-sensitive, unhurried approach, so different from what she’d come to expect from him, threw her. But when he finally kissed her all the unfettered physicality came rushing to the surface and consumed them both. She could love him again. If she let herself.
But her biggest fear sat like an elephant between where they were and where this might lead. If he ever found out the truth about her, would he still look at her the way he had tonight? How could he? And if she opened her heart to him, how could she survive losing him again?
His lips came down on her shoulder as he cupped her breast in his hand. A low groan vibrated against her skin and sent a flood of need straight to her core. He massaged her hip, and moved slowly down her thigh, lifting himself on one elbow. Her eyes met his in the darkness and she knew without question the fire in him burned as fiercely as ever. The power of their connection still left her breathless, fueled a response in the deepest caverns of her soul.
He shifted closer. His fingers trailed her lower thigh, then he raised her leg, opening her to him. With his chest pressed to her back, he entered her. No warm up, no foreplay, just an immediate claim of what he wanted. And she wanted it too, crying out in pleasure with every thrust that sent him deeper into her.
She met him stroke for stroke and reached back to squeeze his ass as the rhythm and angle conspired to take her beyond control. She led the way, but not by much and they came together, a tangle of arms and legs clinging to one another as they went.
As she lay panting beneath him, her cheek pressed into the mattress, she wanted nothing more than to roll over into his arms and kiss him for the rest of her life. But when her breath settled, she squirmed away and buried her face in the pillow. She couldn’t allow him in her bed like this and keep him out of her heart. Every time they made love she fell for him a little more. She couldn’t not love him. She didn’t know how.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, wrapping his leg over hers and pulling her back. Before she could summon the courage to tell him the truth or come up with a plausible lie, the phone rang. He groaned. “Have you got that thing programmed for coitus interruptus?”
Her head jerked toward the clock. “Oh my God,” she whispered, struggling to wiggle free of his weight. No call that came at two-thirty in the morning was good. Inches from the phone, she jerked her hand to a stop. If it wasn’t an emergency, it would be her father.
“You want me to get it?” he asked as the phone rang again.
She grabbed the phone before he could. “Hello?”
A digital voice announced that the call originated from the county jail. She reached to hang up relieved it had to be a wrong number, but when the recording broke for a personally spoken identification. She froze.
“Grady!”
Blake moved off her completely and held himself on his elbow. After a brief pause, Grady came on the line.
“Are you ok?”
“I got arrested.” Shame weighted his words.
“I’m on my way. I’ll be right there.” Her mind spun. It had to be a mistake, something they could settle quickly. She just had to get to him and bring him back home.
“What’s the charge?” Blake said before Haylie could end the call.
She repeated the question to Grady and waited while he summoned the courage to tell her he’d gotten pulled over for speeding and the officer brought a K9 to search the car. They found enough marijuana and suspicious paraphernalia to charge him with possession with the intent to distribute.
She relayed the charges to Blake. He ran his hand through his hair. “Tell him not to say a word until I get there.”
Haylie hung up the phone and pulled on the clothes Blake had removed from her earlier.
Blake snaked his pants leg from beneath her foot. “I guess that explains all those phone calls he got during dinner.”
She didn’t respond. Grady might not have been himself lately, and he may have done something stupid, but he wasn’t a criminal. There had to be a mistake.
Chapter 7
On the concrete steps leading from the county jail, Haylie sat down, covered her face with her hands and dropped her head between her knees. Grady had admitted having everything the officer claimed to find in his car. Blake had talked to him, but she hadn’t been allowed in to see him.
Blake knelt beside her, his hand warm on her back. He tilted her face, forcing her to look at him. “We’ll take care of this.”
“He shouldn’t be here. He counted on me, and…” Her voice was husky with tears and pain ripped at her heart.
“And what?”
“I let him down.”
“Don’t you think Grady knows how much he owes you? You haven’t let him down. You’re the only one he can count on not to let him down.”
She shook her head as tears welled in her eyes blurring the street lights and Blake’s handsome face. “He doesn’t owe me anything.”
“He owes you a hell of a lot more than you hold him accountable for. He mooches around on your couch, runs through your pantry like a regiment of roaches, and leaves his garbage all over your house. He makes promises he doesn’t keep. He gets to have you in his corner, but you don’t expect anything in return. He let you down. Not the other way around.”
“He’s still young, sti
ll figuring things out.”
“You’re right. And this will be a hard lesson learned. But we’ll help him through it.”
“Can you recommend an attorney for his defense?”
His brow creased as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard her. “I’ll defend him. Pro bono.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Grady’s family to you. I’ll help anyway I can.” He took a deep breath. “What do I have to do to prove how much I care about you?”
“This has nothing to do with us.”
“Maybe not. But tell me you’re not fighting tooth and nail to keep from falling in love with me again. You won’t let yourself get that close to me, will you?”
She couldn’t look him in the eye. “No. I won’t.”
“Why? Because of a stupid, thoughtless, disrespectful joke that went too far ten years ago? There’s more to it than that, and maybe I could understand if you’d tell me what’s going on it that head of yours. You know you can trust me. So this isn’t about me, is it?”
“Why are you pushing this?”
“Because you can’t avoid facing your past anymore. I’m not going to let you.”
Haylie stood up and brushed her hands on her jeans. The old familiar shell closed around her heart, shutting out the pain, shutting out everything and everyone who had the power to break her. “There is nothing about my past that bears repeating. I can’t love you, and I’ve tried to tell you that since you barged back into my life.”
“So you want me out of your life again?”
She stiffened and turned away.
“Honey, don’t,” he said. “Don’t pretend you don’t still care about us, about me.”
She tried to hide the tremor of her chin. “I’m sleeping with you. What else do you want?”
“I want more than that.”
She wiped the tears from her cheek. If Blake ever found out why his bet had hurt her so much, could she trust him to love her then? She couldn’t trust anyone that much. “How are you going to get Grady out of this God awful place?”
“Damnit, Haylie! You can’t just refuse to talk about us. You can’t ignore problems and make them go away.”
“I can’t worry about us right now. There’s a kid sitting behind bars, and it’s my job to protect him.”
“He did the crime. Maybe a night in the slammer will put enough of a scare in him that he won’t do it again.”
“Overnight! Are you out of your mind? That’s too long!”
“I’ve done ten years. How long’s too long for me?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “You’re not in jail. I never confined you to anything. I walked away because I wasn’t willing to be a victim of yours or anyone else’s.”
“Victim? You think you’re a victim?” He shook his head. “Come on, Haylie. You’re too proud to be anybody’s victim. You don’t give anyone a chance to hurt you. One hint that they might and you push them out of your life.”
“You don’t know shit!”
“Maybe I’d know more if you’d trust me enough to tell me.”
“I trusted you!” Her fists shook with pent up rage. Rage that went deeper than anything Blake had a hand in. He had no idea how hard it had been to trust him. How much she had loved him to make herself that vulnerable again.
“What happened with your father? You never trusted me enough to tell me that. You never trusted me with anything but your body.”
“And you took advantage of that!”
“Haylie, it was a joke! How many times do I have to tell you it was a sick-ass joke concocted over a keg and pissing contest? I never would have let anybody lay their hands on you. You were mine. You were going to be my wife, and I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”
She swallowed the lump that lodged in her throat.
His voice softened. “You loved me. You might even love me now. Don’t pretend you can’t.”
“When can you get Grady out of here?”
He threw his arms up in exasperation. “The past won’t go away just because you refuse to talk about it. Just say it Haylie. Tell me what that man did to you. Did he molest you?”
“I want Grady out of jail. Now!”
“You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met, and I’m not waiting another ten years for you to figure out you fucked up something good.” He ran his hand through his hair and blew an exhausted breath into the warm air between them. “The judge will set bail in the morning. I’ll have my secretary call you.”
He took the stairs two at a time and climbed into a cab waiting at the curb without looking back.
* * * *
At four a.m. the open blinds in Haylie’s condo did nothing but let in more darkness. She brushed her teeth and avoided her reflection in the mirror.
She snatched Blake’s toothbrush out of the toothbrush holder next to the sink and threw it into the trashcan. His car had still been in her parking lot when she got home. Wherever the cab had taken him, it wasn’t back to her place.
A cold nose nudged the back of her thigh and Lucy looked up at her with a practiced plead. She spit in the sink and rinsed, while Lucy continued to nudge her.
“Alright, alright. I’ll take you out. Give me a minute.”
She found the leash on the doorknob of the coat closet and clipped it to Lucy’s collar. Instantly, the dog began pulling like a locomotive toward the sliding glass doors.
“Hold on, I’ve got to get a bag.” Haylie dropped the leash and searched the pantry for a plastic baggie. Lucy nudged the back of her thigh again.
“Alright already!” Lucy galloped toward the sliders dragging the leash behind him. Haylie caught him before he could jump on the glass door and led him outside.
The gulf breeze that whipped through the patio, picked up her hair and threw it around her head. Lucy tugged his way to the grass and immediately began taking care of business with his nose to the breeze, nostrils twitching.
A growl rumbled deep in his throat, and he trained his eyes to the shadows at the side of the condo.
Haylie squinted but could barely make out even the corner of the building until a break in the clouds unveiled the moon and the figure of a man stepped out of sight.
Lucy’s growl grew into a frenzied bark and Haylie fought to get him back inside. She locked the doors and closed the blinds while her heart hammered. Lucy stood guard at the sliders, a low growl continuously rolling in the back of his throat. Nothing she could do would calm him down.
She’d know her father’s wiry frame anywhere. She willed the pounding in her chest to settle. Carl Monroe played mind games better than anyone. He just wanted her to know that she couldn’t avoid him, that he would intimidate her until she did what he wanted her to do. If he had come to hurt her, he would have come after her instead of slinking away. He’d told her she couldn’t write him off, and now he meant to prove it.
A soft thud sounded against the front door, and she jumped. Lucy tore across the room, barking ferociously at the door. Haylie grabbed the phone and peered through the peephole. She couldn’t see anyone in the softening pre-dawn light and tried again to shake off the fear that coursed through her. He’d made his point and left, just like at the luncheon.
She stroked Lucy’s head. “Good boy,” she said. “Good boy.”
* * * *
Nursing her third cup of coffee at the kitchen counter, Haylie grabbed the telephone on the first ring.
“Grady’s with me. I’m bringing him home.” Blake’s all-business tone settled like ice on her heart.
“What about bail? How much do I owe you?”
“The judge released him on his own recognizance and my assurance that he’ll be a community serving angel between now and the trial.”
“Thank you.” Relief flooded her. “Sincerely.”
Waiting for Grady’s arrival, she brewed more coffee and showered. By the time the front door swung open, she had eggs almost ready to eat, bacon cooling next t
o the stove and biscuits browning in the oven, Grady’s favorite breakfast.
Grady went straight to the guestroom without acknowledging her or Lucy, and Blake hovered at the door holding a manila envelope in his hand. His face lacked his usual cocky smile.
“You want some coffee?” Haylie asked as he bent to rub Lucy’s head. “And maybe some of these eggs that it looks like I’ll be eating alone?” She glanced down the hall. “Grady usually avoids that room like the plague.”
“I could use some caffeine.” He laid the envelope on the counter. “This was at your door.”
She poured his coffee, set it on the counter, and put the cream and sugar dishes within reach. Blake seated himself on a barstool while she transferred the eggs from the skillet to a bowl and pulled the biscuits from the oven. He didn’t look anymore ready to talk about what happened between them than she was. “Sure you’re not hungry? I thought Grady might be, but looks like he needs some time to himself.”
Blake set his coffee down. “I’ll help.” He came around the counter and reached for the cupboard where she kept the plates.
She glanced over in time to see Lucy’s paw make contact with Blake’s cup.
“Lucy, down!” The reprimand came too late. Coffee poured across the counter and onto the envelope that had been left at her door. Blake grabbed the unmarked package and up-righted the cup while she dashed toward the spill with a dishcloth.
“Hope this wasn’t important,” he said, handing Haylie the coffee soaked envelope.
“I have no idea what it is.” She mopped the cloth across it and shook the contents onto the counter, not realizing her mistake until it was too late.
She scooped up the fifty or more photographs that spilled out as nausea tightened her throat and churned waves in her stomach. The nightmare she’d lived through had been printed on 4 x 6 Kodak quality paper for all the world to see. For Blake to see. He had one of the pictures in his hand. His face twisted in concentration, then concern, then fury.
“Who left these?” His voice ground out with barely contained rage.
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