“I’m really glad you came today,” he said, his gaze holding hers. “I’ll see you the next time I bring more pottery to town, and make sure to give me all the details about the showing.”
“Righteo!” Jillian called out, inwardly wincing at her goofy choice of words. A minute later, pulling out onto the main road heading south back toward Baytown, her mind raced. Oh Lordy, I hope Oliver isn’t getting any ideas other than being business partners!
*
Grant stepped into the ever-empty reception area of Harrison Investigations. Assuming Gareth was in his office, he called out, the PI’s response from the back room giving credence to his assumption.
“Man, you need to get a receptionist,” Grant said, seeing Gareth poke his head out from his office, waving Grant back.
“I’ve got someone in mind, but I need to get a little more work before I try to hire them.” Gareth motioned Grant to take a seat. “I sent some info to Mitch this morning about the lawyer and he’ll go over it with you all later. But I knew you were anxious to see what I could find, at least initially, on Oliver Dobson.”
Grant’s senses were instantly on alert as his eyes pierced Gareth. His heart pounded thinking about Jillian not only doing business with, but spending lunch with the artist. “What’d you find out?”
“I don’t know if you’ll consider this good or bad…but so far, he’s clean. He’s just exactly what he seems—an artist.”
Leaning back, Grant’s breath left him in a whoosh. Before he could ask more, he halted as Gareth held his hand up.
“Now, this is just preliminary, but his credit is good, his education checks out, the purchase of the studio he’s working out of had no unusual elements to it…from first looks, he’s just an artist. Graduated from the Maryland Institute, College of Art, majoring in ceramics. Interned and worked in New York City for a couple of years before coming back to the Maryland area.”
The two men sat, the silence stretching between them, causing Grant to shift in his seat for a moment. Finally, letting out a sigh, he shook his head slowly. “I Iook like a fool, don’t I?”
“Why? For wanting to make sure Jillian’s not getting involved with someone shady?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t have you check out any of the other artists in her galleria.”
“None of them appear to be interested in her as more than a shop owner,” Gareth added, a smile playing about his lips.
Grant jerked his eyes back up to Gareth’s and said, “Did it show that much?”
Shrugging, Gareth replied, “I saw them at lunch at the Seafood Shack a while back. I could tell Jillian was just having a good time with no one in particular, but Oliver had an interested look on his face.”
Grimacing, Grant nodded, “I figured as much.” Running his hand over his face, he added, “Hell, who could blame him?”
“I take it you two have history.”
“Yeah, we do.” There was no reason not to admit it to Gareth since the town knew most of the Baytown Boys’ backgrounds. “Childhood friends, teenage relationship. I did four years in the Army and came back determined not to tie her to my nightmares.”
Gareth stared at the fellow Legionnaire and felt a pang of sympathy for Grant’s situation. “I hear you, man. I was lucky…I came out of the Air Force, proud of my duty but fairly unscathed; have some friends not so fortunate.”
The two men shared a look before both nodded and Grant stood. Sticking his hand out, he shook Gareth’s hand firmly. “Thanks for the work. How much do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it now,” Gareth said. “I’ll bill at the end of the month.”
With a jerk of his head, Grant stepped back out onto the sidewalk, sliding his sunglasses on his face. So he’s just as he seems…an artist with an interest in my girlfriend. Pinching his lips together, he had to admit that Jillian was not officially his girlfriend yet. Time to remedy that!
*
Grant stopped by the station, even though he did not have duty until the evening shift, wanting to hear Mitch’s report on Stanley and Isaac. He arrived just as Ginny and Burt entered as well, and the trio found Mitch and Sam already sitting at the conference table. The officers settled quickly and Mitch opened the file in front of him with a smirk.
“Just to let you know, the Easton Police Chief sends her regards, thanking us for Isaac’s company—”
“Thank God he’s there and not here!” Mildred interrupted, walking into the room to grab a cup of coffee. The others barely hid their grins as she banged around the pot, leaving quickly with her steaming beverage.
“I think Mildred just spoke for all of us,” Sam said, shaking his head.
“The mouth on that prisoner got on everyone’s last nerve,” Burt agreed.
Nodding toward the file on the table, Grant asked, “What did Gareth come up with?”
Pulling out the papers, Mitch replied, “Stanley Martino is an attorney that practices in Baltimore, but is also licensed in Virginia. That’s not unusual for lawyers who live near state borders. He owns his own practice and Gareth did a search of his latest cases. He’s a defense attorney…used to have his own commercials on TV and radio.”
“Ambulance chaser?” Ginny asked.
“Kind of,” Mitch agreed. “Seems he touts himself as the defender of the oppressed.”
“Oppressed!” barked Sam. “There’s nothing oppressed about that mouth we had in lock-up!”
Rubbing his forehead, Mitch agreed, before continuing. “Gareth looked into the man’s finances and it appears he keeps some clients on retainer; they make regular payments into his bank accounts. And a few of those have been under observation for drug running. So far, there’s nothing illegal coming up on Stanley…just unsavory.”
“So, he makes himself available for drug kingpins running drugs up and down the East Coast, swooping in when one is caught? And that’s not illegal? How fucked up is that?” Grant growled.
“Agreed,” Mitch stated, “but everyone has a right to legal council and there’s nothing illegal about defending someone.”
The group sighed in unison, angry faces set in stone. “I’ve got a bad feeling that the Eastern Shore is going to see more and more of this, so stay sharp,” Mitch added. “Not only on traffic duty, but when watching our youth as well.”
“Got a group that hangs around the town park, just at dusk,” Sam said. “The mayor hates it. Says it makes townsfolk not want to walk in the evenings at the park. I’ve been keeping an eye on them, but so far they just seem like kids wanting a place to gather.”
“Makes them a target,” Grant commented.
Mitch nodded. “Agreed. So keep an eye on it.”
The meeting broke up, but the tense expressions remained on everyone’s faces. Grant headed back out, deciding to see if Jillian was home from her trip. Driving by her house, he was pleased to see her just pulling into her driveway. Battling jealousy coursing through him at the thought of her lunch with another man, he parked behind her, his heart leaping as he observed her smile when she turned around and saw him.
“Hey!” she called out. “Whatcha doing here?”
Matching her grin, he climbed out and stalked over to her, not stopping until his boots were planted in front of her sandals. Towering over her, he wrapped his arms around her, pleased as she immediately slid her arms around his waist.
“Just thought I’d stop by to see if my girl was home yet,” he declared, his voice not giving in to the nervousness he felt by claiming her. Kissing the top of her head, he waited anxiously for her reply.
Tipping her head back, she cocked her eyebrow. “Your girl?”
Grinning at the lighthearted tone to her voice and the gleam in her eye, he nodded. “Yeah, my girl.”
“Hmph,” she mumbled, planting her face into his chest. “That’s kind of presumptuous of you.”
Tightening his arms, he replied, “Maybe. But we’ve…well, I’ve wasted too much time as it is.”
The two stood in her
driveway under the shade of one of her large trees, allowing the breeze to blow around them as they continued to hold each other tightly. Jillian had to admit, it felt right, but she hoped she was not, once more, placing herself in the way of heartbreak.
Chapter 11
Choking on terror, Grant jerked up, kicking his legs out in his tangled sheets. Heart pounding, sweat dripping off his face, he brought up his knees, resting his head on his forearms. Having confessed his nightmares to the counselor, Thomas had encouraged him to talk to Jillian. Lying in bed, the sunrise just barely peeking in through the window, he wondered how to go about doing that. I thought a time might naturally open up and the words would flow easily. But so far that moment had not happened.
Swinging his long legs over the side of the bed, he sat with his head resting in his hands, elbows propped on his knees. Sucking in a deep cleansing breath, as Thomas had taught him to do when he felt anxious, he realized he needed to man-up. Grabbing his phone off the nightstand, he started to call Jillian before looking at the clock. Damn, it’s only six a.m. Hesitating for a moment, he figured she was already awake since the coffee shop opened at seven.
Pressing the button, he listened as her phone rang twice before she picked it up, sounding more chipper at six o’clock than a person should be at that ungodly time.
“Hey, Grant. Kind of early for you, isn’t it? What’s up?” she asked.
“I wondered if you’d like to go to dinner with me tonight? We’ve got an AL baseball practice this afternoon but I could pick you up afterwards.” Rubbing his hand over his chin, he felt the unfamiliar pang of nervousness.
“Sure,” she said, her voice now soft and low. “I’d like that.”
Letting out a slow breath, he smiled. “Great. I’ll pick you up as soon as I can get home and showered. It’ll be around six or so.”
“Grant…” she hesitated, “why are you calling so early?”
“Just couldn’t sleep. Talk to you later…and Jillian? Thanks.” Hanging up, he flopped back on the bed, the ceiling fan blades slowly rotating overhead, their calming motion steadying his heartbeat.
*
Word had spread about the teams the American Legion had created for children and the bleachers were filling up with parents as well as townspeople. Jillian, Tori, Belle, and Jade sat near the bottom, watching as some of the Legionnaires coached from the sidelines, now that there were enough children to form teams.
Ginny had recruited Katelyn to assist with the girls, who were playing on the co-ed teams. Shouts from the stands cheered on all of the children, with each child getting a turn at bat. Jillian watched as Grant worked with some of the younger children, keeping her eyes on Junior and Bobby. Smiling as Bobby made a hit, she screamed as loud as some of the parents when he ran to first base.
“So…” Tori began, turning to look at Jillian. “How’re things going with Grant?”
Smiling a little crooked smile, Jillian glanced to the side, seeing the concerned look on Tori’s face. “Good, I think,” she admitted hesitantly. “It’s kind of weird…I’d given up hope that we’d never be more than friends, but he seems to really want to be more now. At first, I thought it was just because Oliver asked me out.”
“Grant did get jealous when you came to our engagement party with someone else,” Tori reminded.
“Oh, don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten,” Jillian said, a flash of irritation passing through her eyes. “I’m trying to take things slow. Although…” she giggled, “I almost jumped him the other night and asked him in!”
Laughing, Tori said, “Well, it’s not like he’s new in your life. You two have a lot of history.” Her mirth slowing, she added, “I just don’t want to see you hurt.”
Nodding, Jillian agreed, “I know. That’s what Katelyn’s worried about.” After another moment of cheering, she added, “He told me that something happened when he was in the Army that had a profound impact on him and he’s hinted that it’s the reason why he backed away from me when he came home.”
“So what’s different now?”
“He’s been talking to one of the counselors in town.”
Eyes wide in surprise, Tori said, “Oh, wow, Jillian. That’s wonderful.”
Cheering all around jolted the women out of their conversation and their focus jumped back to the field. Jillian saw Grant standing between third base and home plate, yelling for Bobby to run as the little boy’s legs pumped as fast as he could go, sliding safely into home, scoring a run. She jumped up and down on the bleachers, screaming his name, watching as Grant hoisted Bobby up on his shoulders.
As they retook their seats, she felt Tori’s hand on her leg and she looked over at her friend.
“I’m rooting for you two, you know,” Tori said, a beautiful smile on her face.
Snorting, Jillian said, “You just want everyone as happy as you and Mitch are.”
“True…but I really think Grant knows what he’s been ignoring and hopefully, getting help, will send him straight back to you.”
Turning back to watch him down on the field, she gazed speculatively, thinking of the deep secrets he carried. “I hope so,” she whispered.
*
That evening Grant pulled into Jillian’s driveway, his nerves forcing him to check his tie in the side view mirror once more before walking to the front door. Sucking in a big breath, he let it out slowly, willing his heart to stop pounding quite so loudly. This is it. I can do this. I can tell her everything—
In the middle of his pep talk, the door opened and Jillian stood there, smiling as she saw his hand raised to knock. “Hi!” she greeted, staring at the eye-candy standing on her front porch. Dressed in navy slacks paired with a crisp, light blue shirt and a mauve tie striped with navy, he appeared completely different from the sweat-soaked coach of earlier with dirt on his blue jeans. And yet, she thought both images equally sexy.
He peered down at the woman in front of him, as familiar to him as his own image, and yet even more beautiful than when he had seen her a few hours earlier. Her blonde hair was pulled back from her face with a jeweled clip, allowing the waves to cascade down her back. Her lithe body was encased in a red dress that clung to her curves, stopping just above her knees. The modest neckline was accentuated with a few gold-filigree necklaces. Her long, tan legs ended in strappy sandals, the four inch heels bringing her eyes to his mouth level.
Warmth pooled deep inside as he looked at the classy woman standing before him. “Hi yourself,” he greeted, bending down to place a gentle kiss on her lips. “Ready to go?”
Nodding, she turned to lock her front door and his jaw almost hit the floor. Her demure dress dropped into a deep V in the back, leaving her silky skin bare for his—and any other man’s—perusal. “What the hell do you have on?” he barked. “Or rather, what don’t you have on?”
Glancing over her shoulder, she gazed in wide-eyed, mock innocence. “Why Mr. Wilder, don’t you like it?”
“Dammit Jillian, you know I do, but so will every other red-blooded male between the ages of thirteen and a hundred!”
Turning back around, she cocked her hip and threw her hand out. “This is a perfectly acceptable cocktail dress, suitable for an evening out at a nice restaurant. Neither my boobs, nor my ass cheeks, are showing.” Irritated at his continued tight-lipped grimace, she added, “And may I just say that the women you’ve been escorting around town have been dressed in far more provocative and downright slutty clothes!”
“That’s unfair! And you’re not like those women, who meant nothing to me!”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” she snapped.
Rubbing his hand over his face, he sighed. So far, they were only five minutes into the date and it was not going the way he had hoped. Releasing his breath, he agreed. “I apologize, Jillian. You are beautiful and, to be honest, I’ll feel jealous with every other man’s eyes on you tonight.”
They stood awkwardly on the porch, staring at each other, for a long m
oment. Nodding, she turned and unlocked the front door, slipping back inside before he had a chance to react. His heart dropped, fearing the date was over before it had begun. “Jillian—”
The door re-opened and Jillian walked back out, this time with a black, lacy shawl draped about her shoulders. With no other explanation, she looked up, a smile on her face that no longer reached her eyes, and said, “Are you ready?”
Dropping his chin to his chest, he closed his eyes for a few seconds before lifting his gaze back to hers. “I’m sorry…really sorry,” he said.
Uncertainty filled her face as the anger fled from her eyes. Giving a little shrug, she mumbled, “It’s okay.”
Placing his hands on her shoulders, he fought the urge to pull her into his body because he wanted to see her face, peer into her eyes, and make sure she understood what he was going to say. “It’s not okay that I made you feel less than what I should have made you feel. You are beautiful…so fucking beautiful. And that dress is killer. You look classy and gorgeous and any man would be proud to have you on his arm. And that you’re giving me the chance to prove to you that I can be that man? Baby, that makes this evening so special.”
Seeing the warmth return to her eyes, he slid his hands from her shoulders around to her back, tucking her closely to his front. “No one, and I mean no one, has ever meant to me what you mean to me.” He felt her stiffen for an instant and prayed he was choosing the right words. “I’m ashamed to admit this, but everyone else was…well, I’ve never had a relationship that went beyond the physical. I was running…that’s all, just running.”
Leaning back, she looked up, her brow knit in confusion. As much as she hated discussing the revolving door of women he had had over the past couple of years, she wondered what he meant. “Running?”
Kissing the top of her head, he said, “We’re getting out of order. I wanted us to do dinner, have a nice time, and then…uh…well, talk.”
Seeing the little boy expression of uncertainty now in his eyes, she sighed. “You’re right. Let’s do that, shall we?” Holding out her hand to him, she smiled as he linked fingers with hers and they walked to his jeep.
Just One More Chance: Baytown Boys Series Page 11