Road to Grace (Dogs of Fire Book 8)

by Piper Davenport

  “Stop!” I squealed. “Please! Both of you, stop.”

  But no one was listening, so I was stuck in my place on the floor, watching them go at each other and I was completely helpless to stop it.

  I wasn’t left waiting for long. The tussle ended almost as quickly as it began, with my dad on his back, Flea’s knee in his chest and my dad’s hands up in surrender. It was not lost on me that dad’s gun was in his holster and either one of them could have reached for and used it.

  It also was not lost on me that my dad threw that fight and let Flea win. From the expression on Flea’s face, he also knew this. With a look of disgust, Flea stood, reaching out his hand to help Dad up, but keeping his body between us.

  Dad ran his hands through his hair and focused on me again. “You and I are gonna talk, Gracie. I’ve given you space, ten years of it, and I’m done.”

  “What exactly are we going to talk about? Hmm? How you left me to nearly be murdered by your wife―”

  “Your mother,” he interjected.

  “No. I disowned her the second she shoved a gun in my temple, then thought better of it and blew her own brains out,” I snapped, suddenly panicking and finding it difficult to breathe. “All over me.”

  Flea spun to face me, reaching out to grab my shoulders gently. “Grace. Don’t go there. Breathe.”

  I gripped his cut and stared up at him, focused on his eyes and the gentleness in them.

  “Breathe, Grace,” he said again, and I did.

  Deep.

  Flea smiled. “You got this.”

  “I got this,” I whispered, and he released me, turning to face my dad again.

  “Look, man, you obviously care about your daughter, but she’s not really feelin’ up to talkin’, so it’d be great if you didn’t make this uncomfortable for her. Maybe give her a call and figure out a better time and place… one that’s in public. Not one where she feels safe, especially when you showin’ up unannounced could potentially change that. I’d hate for her to lose that.”

  Dad did not look happy that Flea had just fought my fight for me, but I was past caring.

  “You can’t let your boyfriend do all the dirty work for you, sweetness. I’ll call you and we can set up a time and place, but this is happening,” Dad warned.

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  Dad gave a little chuckle. “I stand corrected.”

  With one last glance in my direction, Dad walked out of the apartment and Flea closed and locked the door. “You okay?”

  I nodded. “I think we should call it a night.”

  “At the risk of being intrusive, I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not leaving you here alone until I know you’re okay.”

  Well, shit. I wasn’t okay, that’s why I wanted him to leave.

  “I’m good,” I lied.

  “Nice try, Grace.”

  “Flea, I need you to go.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I need to freak out and melt down without an audience,” I hissed.

  He waved his hand, motioning me over. “Come here, Grace.”

  “Nope.” I emphasized the “p” as I shook my head.

  “Baby. Come here.”

  “I’m good right here.”

  He stalked toward me with a grin that probably just melted my panties off.

  “Flea,” I warned, stepping back.

  He didn’t stop, and I felt the front of the sofa hit the back of my knees and realized I had nowhere else to go. I raised my hands to ward him off, but he just kept advancing until my palms connected with his incredibly muscular chest. “Flea.”

  He smiled, sliding his hand to my neck and tugging me gently forward. “Gonna hold you for a bit, okay?”

  He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against him, forcing me to either crush my arms between us or slide them around his waist. I chose the latter.

  I breathed in his scent and closed my eyes, nuzzling into this chest and holding him tight. God, this felt good. Too good.

  * * *

  Flea

  Fuck me, having this woman burrow into me was almost more than I could handle. Her hair smelled like mangoes and I wanted to wrap it around my hand and bury myself inside of her… but I couldn’t.

  Not yet.

  But soon.

  I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anyone. She was beautiful, yes, but there was something else. Something that pulled my soul toward hers. She was the strongest person I’d ever met, and I wanted to go deep and find out what made her tick. She fascinated me.

  This shit with her dad was concerning, though. The man seemed to really care about her, but she was still traumatized, and I didn’t like that. She should have a relationship with her dad if he was a good man. I was probably going to need to find out what that was all about, just gotta do it quiet and under the radar.

  For the moment, I’d hold her when she was scared, and listen to her when she needed to talk. We would have our day to move to a different level. I might not be patient, but I could give her the time and space to figure out she couldn’t live without me.

  Until then, I was happy to have her tiny body pressed up against mine, because I knew it made her feel safe.

  * * *

  Three hours later, I walked into my apartment, having left Grace when her brother got home. I’d seen yet another side of her that drew me ever closer to her and she was working her way into my heart.

  I grabbed a beer from my fridge just as my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and smiled. “Hey, KitKat.”

  “Ohmigod, Billy, you’re fuckin’ Grace Lundy?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Not havin’ this conversation with you, little sister.”

  “By twelve minutes,” she growled.

  I took a swig of beer. “Is that the only reason you called?”

  “You can’t fuck with her,” she said.

  “Not fuckin’ with her.”

  “You like her?”

  “Kate―”

  “Seriously, brother, she’s one of my favorite people. You can’t fuck her up.”

  “I like her, KitKat. She means somethin’ to me, so I’m not gonna fuck her up.” I frowned. “And to that point, baby sister, not happy you think I’d do that.”

  “Don’t get all sanctimonious on me,” she countered. “The broken hearts you’ve left in your wake are staggering.”

  “Every woman I’ve spent time with knew exactly where I stood. Never lied to anyone.”

  She let out a long, dramatic sigh. “I know, but they fall in love with you, regardless, and then you get tired of them and find someone shinier. I just don’t want you to do that to, Grace.”

  My hackles rose, and I set my beer on the counter. “Gonna say this once, sis. I care about Grace. I’ve got her back, which means you don’t have to worry. Got it?”

  I heard the smile in her voice as she said, “You’re falling for her.”

  “I’m hanging up now.”

  “If you don’t give me something, I’m coming over and following you around your tiny little postage stamp of an apartment until you tell me how much you love her.”

  She would, too. Goddammit.

  “Yeah, I’m fallin’ for her.”

  She squealed so loud, I had to hold the phone away from my ear.

  “Kate.”

  More squealing.

  “Kate.”

  “I want nieces and nephews.”

  “I’m hanging up now.”

  “Okay, but Sunday dinner. Soon. My place. Bring Grace.”

  “Soon’s not an option. Maybe in a few months,” I countered. “If we get to that place, I’ll talk to her and let you know.”

  “I’m really happy for you,” she whispered.

  “Thanks, sissy.”

  “Talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Talk to you tomorrow,” I confirmed, and we hung up.

  Flea

  TWO WEEKS LATER, I wa
s in the shop workin’ on a Miata (no shit), and tryin’ not to drag Grace into the back room and kiss her senseless. I hadn’t seen her outside of work for over a week, which had been slammed with almost more repairs than we could handle, so we’d had to forgo lunch together as well. Tack on the fact that tonight was church and tomorrow she had a dance class again, I wouldn’t see her until the weekend. The fact I was fuckin’ pissed about that was becomin’ a problem, but nevertheless, I couldn’t stop myself from being pissed about it.

  I fuckin’ missed her.

  It was irrational.

  “Flea?” Grace called, and I leaned around the open hood of the car.

  “Yeah?”

  “Mr. Miller’s here to pick up his BMW.”

  “Be right there,” I said.

  I removed my gloves and washed my hands, then headed through the door to the lobby… where I found Mr. Miller fuckin’ all over Grace.

  “You wanna back off my receptionist?” I growled. I almost said ‘my woman,’ but stopped myself.

  The man had the good sense to step back, but he made the mistake of grinnin’ like an asshole. Grace scowled at me, her face pink and her eyes flashing.

  I grabbed the clipboard off the counter and signed my name, then quickly went over everything I did to the douchebag’s car while Grace retrieved his keys.

  “Do you have any questions?” I asked.

  “I’m good.”

  I set the invoice in front of him for him to sign, Grace handed him his keys and a copy of the receipt, and I hung around until he walked out the door.

  “What the hell was that about?” Grace snapped once the douche was out of earshot.

  “What?” I played dumb.

  “You know exactly what,” she said.

  “You have the right to feel safe in your work environment,” I said, improvising. “You shouldn’t get accosted by some asshat with a Bimmer.”

  “Don’t you mean ‘Beemer’?”

  “Bimmers’ are the cars, Beemers’ are the bikes.”

  She widened her eyes, her full mouth forming an O, and it took every bit of me not to kiss her in the middle of the waiting area. “Really?”

  “Yeah, babe, really.”

  She bit her lip. “You know what I like about you?”

  “What?”

  “You don’t mansplain things. You just tell me the information and move on.”

  I chuckled. “You know what I like about you?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “What?”

  “Everything.”

  She let out a quiet squeak and dropped her eyes to the floor. I grinned and squeezed her arm, heading back to the Miata, leaving her to think about what I’d just said. I knew Grace enough to know that she needed time, alone, to process.

  Especially, when she’s caught off-guard.

  Considering the fact I liked to catch her off guard, I had no problem giving her time to process. Particularly if she was startin’ to feel the same way I was. This thought brought me up short.

  Shit!

  I wasn’t fallin’ for her. I’d already fallen.

  Fuck!

  * * *

  Grace

  What the hell was that supposed to mean?

  I watched Flea walk through the door and into the shop as I pondered this question. After the incident with my dad, he’d checked in with me every night, but timing over the past week had sucked and we hadn’t seen each other. I thought I was the only one who was affected by this fact.

  Apparently, I wasn’t.

  This was interesting. It was also unbelievably frightening. Ohmigod, this beautiful man liked everything about me. What was I supposed to do with that information? I’d never been here before. I wasn’t really into dating, and although I’d had some guy friends throughout my short life, I never let them get close (for obvious reasons). But Flea had broken down a hell of a lot of my defenses and I was terrified I was going to lose him. I mean, not that I had him, but I wanted to have him.

  Shit.

  I wanted him.

  No, no, no, no. I can’t have him.

  I bit my lip.

  Why can’t I have him?

  Oh, yeah, because I’m probably schizophrenic. Or bipolar.

  I wondered if my child-bearing hips were on his radar. Probably. Because he was older than me and undoubtedly wanted kids. If we did get together and it was something lasting, we couldn’t have children. I wasn’t putting a child through what my mother put me through. Mental illness was hereditary.

  I shook my head.

  No way in hell.

  I had to shut this down. I had to focus on my dancing. I accepted the position with PBC, even though it wasn’t exactly what I wanted, which meant my free time would be shrinking, so that would help.

  “Gracie?”

  I jumped and spun to see Hatch’s head peeking through the door.

  “You okay?”

  I nodded. “Yep. Why?”

  “Called your name three times.”

  “Oh, sorry. I was distracted.”

  “Apparently.” He grinned. “I sent you an email with an updated parts list. Can you get those ordered today?”

  “Yes. Of course. I’ll do that now.”

  “Thanks.”

  He stepped back into the shop and the door closed behind him. Since we had no customers at the moment, I pulled my stool up to the computer and began to enter the parts order. We used a fancy schmancy ordering system that went straight to wherever the little elves were that made bolts and nuts and carburetors, and it was pretty easy to navigate. But really all I knew was I put the order in and three days later, boxes would show up for me and Flea to add to the inventory.

  I couldn’t believe I was looking forward to those boxes to arriving, so I could be alone with Flea in our parts office.

  I shook my head. This was getting ridiculous.

  “Grace!” Flea called, and I jumped… again.

  “What is with y’all sneaking up on me,” I complained, spinning to face him.

  He grinned. “Lunch. Let’s go.”

  “I’m not done with the order.”

  “You can finish after lunch.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Flea…”

  He stepped to the desk. “We’re goin’ to lunch, baby. Come on.”

  I saved my spot, locked the computer, and slid off the stool. I didn’t bother to grab my purse, since he’d argue and insist on paying wherever we went anyway.

  He held the door for me and I stepped through, flanking him as we headed next door to the Chinese restaurant. Once we took our seats, I settled my elbow on the table and my head in my palm, staring down at the menu while I continued to try and process his earlier statement.

  “Why are you lookin’ at the menu?” Flea asked.

  I raised my eyes to meet his. “Ummm… it’s generally used to figure out what the restaurant offers and what you’d like to eat,” I sassed.

  He chuckled. “Oh, so you’re going to deviate from beef broccoli and chicken lo mein?”

  “I might,” I retorted, and turned my gaze back to the menu.

  The server arrived and Flea ordered his usual Kung Pao something, then fried rice. I shuddered. Rice. Gross. No. Ever since I watched the Lost Boys when I was thirteen, I haven’t been able to eat rice.

  “Grace?”

  “Hm?”

  “You orderin’ something different?” Flea asked.

  I smiled at the server. “Beef broccoli and chicken lo mein, please.”

  “Shocker,” Flea said under his breath and I ignored him.

  The young man took our menus and left the table and I made an all-out effort to ignore Flea. Hard to do when he was virtually close enough to smell… and oh, god, I wanted to sniff him hard.

  “You freakin’?” he asked, leaning forward and tapping my arm.

  I sighed. “So hard.”

  He grinned. “You okay with me pickin’ you up from class tomorrow night so we can talk?”

  I raised an eye
brow, finally taking a second to look at him… you know, directly into the sun. I shivered. If I wasn’t careful, I’d get burned. “I don’t know.”

  “Why don’t you know?”

  “Um, hello, freaking… so hard.”

  He dropped his head back and laughed. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

  “Not helping me freak out any less, buddy.”

  “Okay, baby. We’ll shelve it while we eat.”

  “That would be appreciated.”

  As promised, he guided the conversation to anything other than discussing feelings, and I started to relax. Not surprising. I was always relaxed around Flea. He made me feel safe.

  We finished our food, Flea paid, then he led me out of the restaurant and pulled me around the corner between our two buildings.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded.

  “Need to kiss you, Grace. You gotta problem with that?”

  I licked my lips, shaking my head. “Not in theory.”

  He chuckled. “What does that mean?”

  I sighed, gripping his cut. “I want to kiss you, too, but I feel like doing that will move us to a new place and I don’t think I’m ready to lose our current place. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah, baby, I get it. And I don’t give a fuck.”

  “Well, I do,” I countered. “I give a lot of fucks. I couldn’t handle losing you as my friend.”

  “Baby, you’re not gonna lose me.”

  “How can you say that? You don’t know everything.”

  “About what?”

  “My life,” I whispered. “My mom was crazy. It’s hereditary.”

  He stared at me like I was an alien… or crazy. I released his cut and tried to move around him, but his arm snaked around my waist and he pulled me close again.

  “Grace. We’re not done.”

  “I am.”

  He grinned down at me. “Right now, I’m gonna kiss you. Tomorrow we’re gonna talk.”

  “You’re going to kiss me and then I have to think about our conversation for more than twenty-four hours?” I hissed. “That’s insanity.”

  Before I could say anything else, his lips landed on mine and I fisted my hands in his shirt, leaning into him and opening my mouth to deepen the kiss.

  Ohmigod. I could drown in him if I wasn’t careful.