Just One More Chance: Baytown Boys Series

by Maryann Jordan

  Dropping his chin to his chest for a moment, he sucked in a huge breath before letting it out slowly. Lifting his gaze back to hers, he said, “Because I don’t want you to move on.” Seeing her eyes narrow, he quickly added, “Because I only want you to move on to me.”

  She said nothing, but her heart pounded so hard she was sure he could hear it over the sound of the surf.

  He slid his hand from hers, up her arm to cup the back of her neck. His thumb brushed over her silky cheek, watching the blush underneath his finger.

  “I’m scared,” she whispered.

  “Don’t be, baby. I know I’ve done nothing but make you doubt me, but I promise, no more doubts.” Seeing her face filled with cautious optimism, he grinned, battling the desire to pull her in ever so slightly to taste the lips he wanted to explore. Not now…don’t rush this. Letting his hand drop, he twisted his body around to grab the basket. “So, what do we have?”

  She missed the warmth of his hand, blinking at the realization she had hoped he would kiss her. Speaking brighter than she felt, she forced a smile, saying, “Okay, we’ve got some of Katelyn’s fried chicken, Tori’s potato salad, and my brownies.”

  “Wow, you enlisted everyone,” he laughed as she set the food out onto the blanket.

  Shrugging, she replied, “I know how to bake, but my cooking leaves a lot to be desired. Lucky for you, I do know how to utilize my resources.”

  As he smiled at her explanation, she sat with her legs crossed and her feet tucked underneath her, placing her plate in her lap. Watching as he piled food on her plate, she protested, “I can’t eat that much. Everything on this plate will go straight to my hips.”

  “Works for me,” he quipped and added another spoonful of potato salad to her plate. He moved over to peek into the basket and grinned as he pulled out a bottle of wine.

  Their conversation remained easy as they ate, the evening shade of the trees near the beach creating a cocoon of privacy. The tide was leaving and Jillian said, “We could walk and look for sea glass after we eat.”

  His heart became lighter with each minute that Jillian appeared open to him, making him smile. “I can’t think of anything I’d like better.”

  Half an hour later, Jillian bent for what seemed the millionth time to pluck a piece of sea glass from the sand. Grant watched her youthful enthusiasm, wondering how he had ignored it for the past several years. As the sun set behind her the wind caught her braid, whipping it over her shoulder as the loose tendrils danced about her face. The white capris showed off her long, tanned legs and whenever she would bend over, a sliver of smooth skin would peek out above her waistband, drawing his gaze. As she scooped up another one, she twisted around, holding out her palm, showing the bright blue piece.

  “Look at this!” she exclaimed. “This beach is great!”

  As they continued their walk, he reached over to clasp her hand. He noticed she glanced down at their connection, biting her lip. If she was surprised, at least she did not pull away. The silence between them was only broken by the gentle bayside surf and the occasional sound of gulls calling.

  After a few minutes, Jillian peeked to the side, taking in the profile of the man whose face she had watched change from boy to man. Sighing, she looked down at her feet, digging her toes into the sand. Feeling the squeeze of his hand on hers, she looked back up, a question in her eyes.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, his stomach clenching with trepidation.

  “Honestly?” She held his gaze, and said, “You have me completely confused. I want to know what’s going through your mind. About us. About the past years and now the past couple of days. You told me you weren’t good for me and I don’t even know what that means, but it makes me wonder how you now suddenly think you are.” She stopped walking and turned toward him, their clasped hands between them. “I need to understand, Grant…if I can trust you.”

  He looked beyond her toward the woods for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. He thought about his last counseling session and Thomas’ words came back to him. “You have to be honest with yourself first and then honest with those you may have hurt. Then, and only then, can you move forward and learn to give into the fear of love.”

  “The fear of love,” he whispered, his eyes moving from over her shoulder to her face.

  She observed him closely, not sure she heard correctly, but the warm look on his face held her attention.

  Sighing, he replied, “I thought I was ready for the military when I left here after high school, but it…things were a lot harder than I expected. I liked it…liked the camaraderie…a lot like being here with the guys. But when you get close to someone and if…when…something happens, it can really mess with your mind.”

  Jillian had no idea what he was referring to, but sucked in her lips as she watched him struggle with the words.

  “I’m not ready to go into the details, but what happened over there affected me and when I came back, I pulled away from you. I even tried to put distance between us when I took the job in Virginia Beach but, well, I guess Baytown always called to me to come back.” He held her eyes, lifting his hand to cup her cheek. His rough thumb grazed her soft skin again and a small smile played about his lips. “I guess I’m not really answering your concern, am I?”

  “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” she replied softly, realizing the reasons behind her friend-zone freeze had been more profound than she anticipated. “We can um…just take things as they come—”

  “No!” he rushed, his thumb still caressing, but his gaze jumping between her eyes. “I want to move forward. I’m not content to sit back and just think that one day I’ll get my shit together only to find out that you’ve moved on.”

  The six years since Grant had returned from the military flashed through her mind, a wince of pain slashing across her face. Her gaze held his as she saw, for the first time, the look of fear in his eyes. He was always just Grant…my cocky Grant. I never understood there was something painful he was hiding. No words were spoken for a long moment as she pondered what he was asking. He wants me to be patient. He wants me to trust him. He wants me to put my broken heart aside and give him just one more chance.

  Reaching up, she placed her hand on his shoulder for balance as she lifted up on her toes. Leaning in, smiling at his wide-eyed surprise, she kissed him. Soft and gentle, the barest brush of lips. As she settled back on her feet, his hands on her waist, steadying her, he let out a sigh of relief before breaking into a smile. The smile that captured her heart, many years before.

  The drive home was silent, but comfortable. The huge, full moon hung over the bay, its reflection shimmering on the undulating surf, sparkling like diamonds. He reached over the console and linked his fingers with hers, gaining a smile.

  Pulling into her driveway, he wished the drive had taken longer, unwilling to give up her company. But he knew, the time was not right. If I go in, I won’t come out until the morning and she deserves a man who’s ready to give her everything. Her soft voice broke through his thoughts.

  “Do you want to come in for a while?”

  Giving her a wistful smile, he silently let go of her fingers to alight from the jeep, walking around to open her door. Linking fingers once more, he walked her up the steps onto the Victorian porch. Stopping at the front door, he halted her hand as it reached for the keys.

  “I’d love to come in, Jillian, but I’m not going to…tonight.” He watched her head tilt to the side in silent questioning and, lifting his hand to cup her face, he continued, “You deserve a man who can give you everything and that includes all of himself. I’m working on it. I promise. But we’re…I’m…not there yet.”

  Jillian, rooted to the porch, her heart pounding in her chest, stared at his face. His expression, a mixture of eagerness and uncertainty. Her lips curved into a smile as her fingers clutched his shirt, pulling him closer. Licking her lips, she noted his eyes drop to her mouth and her grin widene
d. “You know I want you, Grant. It would be foolish for me to pretend otherwise.” Her smile slowly faded as she added, “But you’re right. I know we need to take things one step at a time.”

  Holding her closely, his thumbs caressing her silken cheeks, he lowered his lips to hers. Moving his mouth over hers, he reveled in the petal soft texture mixed with the delicious taste of chocolate and wine. Licking her lips, he took advantage as she opened her mouth to groan. Swallowing her slight noises, he plunged his tongue in, immediately taking the kiss from sweet to white hot.

  She clutched his shirt tighter, pulling up on her toes as she tried to draw him closer. Sucking his tongue deeper into her mouth, she felt his chest growl against her fingers, the noise jolting straight to her sex. Dropping one hand to her waist, he pulled her tightly into his body, his swollen erection pressing into her stomach.

  Noses bumping as they angled their heads back and forth, each tried to find the perfect alignment for maximum contact. Gasping, clawing, climbing. They finally pulled apart, their expressions wild and stormy.

  Her chest heaved as he touched his forehead to hers, both stunned by the force of their contact.

  “Well,” he said, clearing his throat. “I…uh…” Unable to think of anything to say, he closed his eyes, breathing her in.

  “Yeah,” she whispered, unwilling to take her gaze off of him. Finally, she slid her head to the side and laid her cheek on his pounding heartbeat, her hand circling his waist.

  He rested his chin on the top of her head, his mind whirling. He remembered as teenagers they had been able to go at it like weasels, once he had finally gotten the nerve up to ask her out. With her cousin being his best friend, it had taken a lot for Mitch to finally not threaten to beat him up for asking her out. But then, Mitch never knew we lost our virginity to each other in the back seat of my dad’s old pick-up truck! I wonder if she remembers—

  “Do you remember your dad’s truck?” she whispered, her face still tucked against his chest.

  Grinning into her hair, he chuckled. “I was just thinking the same thing,” he confessed.

  Jillian wanted to look into his face but blushing, kept her head down. Having other ideas, Grant lifted her chin with his fingers, peering into her blue eyes. Seeing the emotions swirling in their depths, he said, “I remember everything about you.”

  Sucking in a shaky breath, Jillian nodded. “Me too.”

  They stood for a moment, the night’s dark silence cloaking them from the rest of the world. Their gazes held as sorrows remembered and promises made, all with a look, were shared between them.

  Stepping inside, she locked the door and turned out the lights as she made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. Walking over to the bright green curtains, she pulled one panel back and peeked outside. She watched as he backed out of her driveway, her eyes following him until his taillights were no longer in sight. Sighing heavily, she dropped the curtain as she turned around, facing her room. As she eyed her bed, it appeared lonelier than ever.

  Chapter 9

  “When you gonna let me outta this dump?”

  Ginny passed Grant in the hall outside of the holding cell, her eyes rolling as she shook her head. “Your turn. I’ve listened to his mouth all morning.”

  “He give us anything on who he’s working for?”

  “Nope, but says he’s got some big-shot lawyer coming to get him out.”

  Grant’s gaze jumped back to hers as he asked, “Bail set?”

  Ginny grinned mischievously and replied, “Mitch talked to the DA this morning. She says the judge will deny bail since Isaac, in there, is a flight risk.”

  “Hell yeah. That, and the fact he had over a hundred thousand dollars worth of meth in his car.”

  “Chief Freeman will be down to pick him up later. She’ll take him to the county courthouse.”

  A loud voice carried through the station again. “Where the hell’s my lawyer?”

  With a wry grin, Ginny patted Grant’s arm before heading down the hall. “Like I said, it’s your turn.”

  Grant watched her walk out of the station then turned to head into Mitch’s office, seeing the Chief sitting behind his desk. “You have to listen to that guy all morning too?”

  Mitch’s angry glare was his answer. Before Grant could respond, Mildred stepped into the office. “Chief? The prisoner’s lawyer is here.”

  Grant and Mitch shared an eye-brow lift before they both turned and headed to the small conference room. Inside, a short, slightly-balding man in a brown suit sat, his briefcase open in front of him on the table. Before they had a chance to introduce themselves, he peered at them over his glasses and began talking.

  “Officers, I’m here on behalf of my client, Isaac Canton. I have the paperwork to make his bail as soon as the judge sets it.” He pushed several papers toward them, his lips turned down in a bored expression.

  “And you are?” Mitch asked, still standing with his arms folded across his chest, his glare matching Grant’s.

  Narrowing his eyes, the man said, “I assumed the receptionist told you who I was. I’m Stanley Martino. Attorney for Isaac Canton.” He pulled out a business card and pushed it across the table toward them.

  Mitch and Grant sat down, both silently observing Stanley. The only sound heard was the ticking of the old clock on the wall behind them and the lawyer began to squirm slightly. “Gentlemen—” he began.

  “Isaac seems to be a rather low-on-the-totem-pole kind of drug carrier,” Grant observed. “How did he come by your services?”

  Bristling, Stanley retorted, “Everyone’s considered innocent until proven guilty, officer. I’m sure you’re aware of the right of each citizen—”

  “How’d he get your number?” Mitch cut in, glancing down at the card. “Says your office is in Baltimore. That was a nice little drive for you this morning. Coming all the way down here for your client.” He hesitated before adding, “Unless he already had you on retainer. Or did his supplier?”

  Standing, Stanley scowled at both men before saying, “I have nothing to say to you other than I’d like to see my client.”

  Silence filled the small room for a moment, before Mitch turned to Grant. “Would you show Mr. Martino to the holding cell area?”

  Grant shoved his chair back, the metal legs screeching over the tile floor. “Right this way,” he said, before turning and moving out of the room. A few minutes later he walked back into Mitch’s office, closing the door behind him.

  Mitch’s lips were pressed tightly as though not trusting what would come out. Grant talked for the both of them. “I don’t like it. Isaac’s got connections with that much meth in his car, and Stanley just happens to show up.”

  “I’m gonna have Gareth dig into the lawyer, see what his background is.”

  Grant hesitated for an instant before admitting, “I was going to see him today anyway. I’ll talk to Gareth if you’d like.” Seeing Mitch’s eyebrow raise, he slumped into the chair in front of the desk and said, “I was going to have him take a look into the new potter that’s sniffing around Jillian.”

  Chuckling, Mitch said, “And just what are you hoping to find? A counterfeit potter?”

  Blushing, Grant shook his head. “I don’t know, maybe something unsavory? Like he’s got a bunch of women or didn’t pay his taxes. Oh, hell.” Blowing out a puff of air, he confessed, “He’s suave and I could see him trying to turn her head.”

  “And you think you’ll pale in comparison?”

  At that, Grant ground his teeth in frustration, sucking in a quick breath through his nose. Before he could reply, Mitch just shook his head and said, “Go on, but do me a favor. Tell Gareth to look into Stanley first.”

  “Sure thing,” Grant nodded, relieved to have the conversation over with. He felt foolish enough without Mitch’s ragging on him.

  Twenty minutes later Grant sat inside Harrison Investigations with Gareth in his small conference room. He noticed the front reception area had a desk, but no
receptionist. Gareth scribbled the information about the lawyer on his yellow legal pad. “I’m assuming you guys ran a check?”

  “Yeah, but the lawyer is clean from what we can tell in our database. It’s just too slick that a low-life drug runner has that kind of attorney on speed-dial.”

  “Unless?”

  “Unless the drug runner is not so low-life or the attorney is on retainer for whoever is in charge of running the operation,” Grant finished.

  “Okay, I’ll see what I can dig up on the lawyer while you all work on Isaac Canton.” Gareth started to close his pad of paper when he noted Grant shifting in his seat uncomfortably. “You got something else for me?”

  Looking Gareth in the eyes, Grant nodded. “Yeah, and this is on me, not the department.”

  Lifting his eyebrows, Gareth said nothing as he opened his pad to a clean sheet of paper. “Okay, whatcha need?”

  Rubbing his chin for a moment, he pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and slid it toward Gareth, who took it from him. Unfolding it, Gareth stared at the name written before lifting his gaze back to Grant.

  “You want me to check out this person? Oliver Dobson?”

  “Yeah. He’s got a pottery place just north of here and I’d like to know more about him.”

  Nodding slowly, Gareth wrote the name and address down on his pad before looking backup. “You want the usual background or you looking for something in particular?”

  “Just the usual,” Grant said, his gaze dropping to the table as he worked his mouth to the side as though tasting something sour. “I…well, he’s going to be working closely with Jillian and I’d rather…uh…make sure about him.”

  Gareth watched Grant’s unusual demeanor crumble as he talked about Jillian. Smiling, he replied, “No problem. I’ll check him out and get back with you.”

  Standing, Grant nodded and walked to the door before turning back and adding, “And…uh…I’m assuming Jillian won’t know about this, right?”