Just One More Chance: Baytown Boys Series

by Maryann Jordan

  Standing straight, Jillian turned around, eyes bright with a smile on her lips. “Hey, sweetie. Did you say something?”

  Knowing the boys were in earshot, he simply shook his head as he stalked over and placed his hands on her hips. “Just came for a kiss before I take the boys home and head to the AL meeting tonight.”

  Tipping her chin, she offered her lips. “Are you coming over afterward?” she asked, hope in her voice.

  He had slept at her house almost every night since the Galleria event and she wondered if he would keep it up or return to his home.

  “Yeah, I’ll be there, although I need to stop by my place tomorrow and check on things.”

  “We could go together,” she suggested. “I could spend the night there, if you wanted.”

  His heated grin was her answer as he brushed her lips quickly. “The boys are just downstairs, so I’ll keep this G-rated, but tonight, expect the X-rated version.”

  With a laugh, she waved goodbye as he jogged back down the stairs.

  *

  “I thought it would be different,” the grizzle-bearded man said, appearing uncomfortable as he stood at the podium. “When we were in the bush…in Nam…” he hesitated. “We used to say that if we could just live, then the rest of our lives would be easy.” Shaking his head, he continued, “We were wrong. The America we left wasn’t the same one we came back to.” After a long pause, he added, “Or maybe we were the ones who had changed. All I know is no one thanked me for my service, like they do now. Got married, had kids…then began to drink to try to get the nightmares outta my head. Lost my wife. She took the kids. Even after all that, I didn’t know to get help. Wish I had.” He opened his mouth a few times, as though to say more, then finally shook his head again as he made his way back down to his seat. The room was eerily quiet before Mitch continued the meeting.

  The officers of the American Legion had taken Grant up on his idea to ask other members to talk about their experiences, if they wanted, and the idea had been well received.

  Once the meeting came to a close many of the members migrated over to Finn’s Pub. Sitting at the bar, half listening to Aiden and Brogan quibble over the Legionnaire’s childrens’ teams, he barely noticed when Ginny slid onto the barstool next to him. Glancing to the side, he saw her gaze piercing his.

  “Got something on your mind?” he asked.

  “You’re different,” she stated matter-of-fact.

  Rearing back slightly, he repeated, “Different?”

  Sucking in a breath, she nodded slowly. “Calmer. Hell, even happier. Finally getting with Jillian instead of chasing bimbos in skirts. So yeah…different.”

  He wanted to argue, but knew Ginny would see right through him. And upon reflection, he realized he did not want to deny her observations. And the reality is that I owe it in large part to her. Twisting slightly on his stool so he faced her, he admitted, “You’re right. And thank you.”

  With a tilt of her head, she waited for his explanation.

  “The counseling. The ESMH group. I called them,” he said. Seeing her eyes widen in surprise, a small smile spread across her face. “I’ve got someone I talk to now.”

  “It seems to have really helped,” she said softly.

  Nodding slowly, he rubbed his chin. “Yeah. Made me face some things I hadn’t wanted to face. And that, in turn, gave me the strength to talk to Jillian.”

  Lifting her eyebrows, she said, “And I take it that went well.”

  Chuckling, he agreed, “Much better than expected.” Uncomfortable talking about his feelings, he took a sip of his beer. “So, we’re together now and have a chance to move forward while dealing with the past.”

  Patting his arm, she grinned. “I’m glad, Grant.”

  She turned to slide down from the stool, when his question stopped her.

  “What about you? Are they helping you with whatever’s buried inside of you?” he asked, observing her startle as she sucked in a quick gasp of breath, a flash of bleakness passing through her eyes. With a sad smile, she slid off the seat, reaching back to take her beer in her hand as she walked away.

  Grant watched her for a moment before turning away, noticing Brogan’s gaze following her as she made her way over to a table of friends.

  Finishing his beer, he was anxious to get home to Jillian. Was I ever one of the first to leave the bar? When did that happen? Grinning, he knew the answer.

  *

  Grant walked into the police station the next morning, ready to start his day shift, but halted in his greeting to Mildred as he heard Mitch’s voice from his office shouting, “God dammit! How the hell did that happen?”

  Mildred’s eyes widened behind her glasses as she cast a worried look toward Grant and the others quickly gathering. The officers hustled toward the back, meeting Mitch in the hallway.

  “Conference!” Mitch growled, leading the way into the conference room.

  Grant sat quickly, as did the other officers, each pair of eyes pinned on their Chief. Mitch’s face was uncharacteristically flushed and his lips were pressed into a tight grimace.

  “Isaac Canton is dead.”

  Eyes wide, Grant’s reaction was, unsurprisingly, the same as the others’. “What the fuck?” Their eyes darted around before settling back onto Mitch’s for an explanation.

  “He was being taken from the jail over to the county courthouse, since his lawyer was appealing bail, when a shot rang out. Long distance rifle.”

  “Holy shit,” Sam cursed, shaking his head. “This doesn’t happen around here.”

  “Execution,” Grant stated, not needing Mitch’s head nod to confirm. “What’s Chief Freeman doing?”

  Mitch grimaced again, “Hannah’s pissed as hell. Her officers on the scene immediately took cover and called for an ambulance while others were sent looking for the sniper. Got the State Police and Colt’s deputies looking as well. Gone…fuckin’ gone.”

  “It’s early,” Ginny said. “They’ll get him.”

  “What I’d like to know is where was slick-shit attorney Stanley when this happened?” Grant asked.

  Burt leaned forward and said, “I was just getting ready to ask the same thing.”

  “Seems he was on the courthouse steps, not close to the defendant at the time,” Mitch explained.

  “So our connection to drug running through the Eastern Shore is dead before his big mouth was able to tell us anything,” Grant surmised.

  “He was definitely a liability for them, that’s for sure. The FBI and DEA are looking more into his contacts now, so we’ll see what they dig up. In the meantime, stay on the lookout for any more evidence of the drug dealing in our jurisdiction. Gareth is still digging into the lawyer. He’s dirty with the cartel, I just know it.”

  *

  “What the fuck were you thinking?” Stanley screamed into the phone, his voice strident with adrenaline. “I was right there! Are you crazy?”

  “Problem solved,” Juan stated.

  “Did you not hear me? I was right there!”

  “Yes,” Juan said, “And you couldn’t have done it and, with your reaction, you weren’t expecting it. You’re safe, so stop bitchin’.”

  Stanley tried to slow his pounding heart while wiping his sweaty hand on his pants. As shaken as he was, he knew Juan was right. Isaac’s mouth was a danger to them all and now the danger was gone. Pulling in a ragged breath, he asked, “What about the gunman?”

  “Gone…for now. But if he’s caught, he’s dispensable. Knows nothing. Just paid to do a job. So stop worrying like some ol’ woman. We’ve got bigger fish to fry than that mouthy prick who got himself stopped and had a fucking gun on the seat next to him.”

  “That was stupid,” he acknowledged.

  “Taking care of Isaac also made a statement,” Juan said. “Anyone else carrying for me better keep their shit together or they’ll end up like him.”

  He stayed silent, his calculating mind working furiously, as well as his self-prese
rvation. How much do I now have in my overseas account? I could easily disappear. Maybe practice law in the Caribbean. “Sure, sure, that makes sense,” he eagerly agreed. “Now that Isaac doesn’t need me I’ll head back to Baltimore.”

  “You do that,” Juan said. “And I’ll let you know as soon as you’re needed again.”

  “Right,” he agreed, disconnecting and tossing the burner phone into the passenger seat next to him. Passing a North Heron Deputy SUV sitting on the side of the road, his eyes shot down to his odometer. Good, under the speed limit. Keeping his foot steady on the gas pedal, he wiped his sweaty brow, eager to make it back to his home. It may be time to start packing!

  *

  “Oliver?” Jillian, sitting at the small desk in the corner of the galleria, held the phone with one hand while scribbling new orders with the other.

  “Jillian, how nice to hear from you,” his pleasant voice replied. “What’s up?”

  “Since the showing, I’ve had some new orders come in from several people and wanted to let you know.” She rattled off what she had accrued and asked if he and his interns would be able to deliver.

  “That should be no problem,” he said. “I want to thank you so much for your help. I’ll have more for you to ship to New York as well.”

  “Oooh, that dealer who came to the event must have really liked your work.”

  “He seems to be very interested. I’ll get those to you for shipment later this week.”

  “Perfect.” Disconnecting, she sat, staring off into space as she tapped her pen against the table top, wondering who she could set Oliver up with. She had a number of single friends, all wonderful women. Katelyn? God no, she’d eat the easy-going artist alive in one day! Belle? No…too shy. They’d end up sitting for hours, neither saying anything. Jade. . .Rose. . .Thinking of some of the newer teachers in the area, she finally shook her head and walked down the stairs to get more coffee, a smile on her lips as thoughts of her own relationship with Grant raced to the forefront of her mind.

  *

  Oliver pounded the clay in front of him after he dipped his hands in water to allow them to caress the mound.

  “You okay, boss?” Aubrey asked.

  He glanced to the side, hating that he had not hidden his scowl. Sighing, he looked back down only to see he was already misshaping the new vase. Starting over, he nodded but kept his eyes on his work. “Yeah.”

  “Were you on the phone to the guy in New York again?” she queried. “That’s a good thing, right?”

  Hating to talk about the situation with an intern, he simply replied, “He wants more and I told him we would try to supply what he needs.” Oliver did not need to look over at the young, eager woman to know she did not understand why that request was a problem. “I told him art is hard to churn out…we’re not a production company.”

  She nodded, but said, “It seems like a good problem to have, though. You know, more demand than supply. And I’ll certainly step up what I’m doing to help. We’ll have lots to ship to them.”

  He bit back the sharp retort that was on his lips, knowing his problems were his own. Supply. Demand. Shipments. More and more work. As he forced his concentration on the clay in front of him taking shape, his hands smoothing over the material, he allowed the spinning wheel to lull his mind toward a calmer place.

  Chapter 16

  The two kayaks glided along, creating ripples on the calm, early morning surface of the Chesapeake Bay. A heron stood perfectly still at the edge of the water, waiting for its chance to catch a crab. Gulls flew overhead, occasionally diving into the water for fish. The sun cast the water in sparkling diamonds as the breeze gently rocked the kayaks.

  Grant watched the pink craft in front of him, a grin spreading across his face. Only Jillian would have a hot pink kayak. He admired the tanned skin of her back, the ties of her black bikini top the only material in the way of his unadulterated view. Her hair, braided and hanging down her back, was held out of her face by a bandana, the same color as her kayak.

  Looking over her shoulder, she flashed a white-toothed grin, recognizing his leer as he eyed her. “Why, Mr. Wilder. What is on your mind? And don’t tell me it’s water safety!”

  Laughing, he admitted, “Busted. But it’s your fault. Here I am, trying to be a gentleman, and one look at you and all I can think about is getting you out of that tiny bikini and burying myself deep inside your—”

  “Grant!” she interrupted. “Keep your mind on your paddling!”

  “I’d rather bend you over and paddle your sweet ass,” he smirked, pulling alongside her. The two held their oars still as he leaned over, kissing her lips. Balancing the kayaks, he knew he had to keep the kisses short and sweet, not at all what he wanted to do. “Next time, let’s use the paddle-boards. Well, actually, one paddle-board. You can work on your tan and I’ll paddle us around and admire your body.”

  Giggling, she leaned back, holding his gaze. “You’re a goof, you know that?”

  Holding his hand over his heart, he retorted, “A goof? You wound me, woman! I’ve never been called that before.”

  “Oh yeah? And what did all your other women call you?” As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she grimaced, wishing she could pull them back in. The last thing she wanted to do was think of his previous hook-ups.

  Grant saw the doubt in her eyes and sighed, tight-lipped at the thought of his previous actions hurting her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, forcing a smile on her lips. “It was a dumb thing to say.” She lifted her oar in her hands, moving to dip it into the water, when his hand landed on hers. Looking over, she waited to see his reaction, her stomach rolling with nerves.

  “Babe, I’m the one who’s sorry,” he admitted, reaching up to cup her cheek. “I hate like hell that I made such bad decisions in an effort to try to distance myself from you. If I could take it all back, I would.”

  Her features softened as her lips curved slightly, this time the warmth reached her eyes. “You don’t need to apologize, Grant. We weren’t together then and,” her eyes shifted down to their clasped hands before lifting back to his, “we’re together now. That’s all that matters.”

  He leaned over, his lips dipping to hers. Soft and slow, he felt her silky skin, relishing her taste of berries and cream. As he pulled back, he saw the sunrise glistening off the surface of the water sparkling in her eyes.

  “Anyway,” she grinned, looking around, “this morning is too beautiful for anything other than joyful thoughts.” With a giggle, she cried out, “Race you!” as she used her oar to push his kayak away from hers before whipping around and beginning to paddle furiously toward the beach.

  “Oh no you don’t!” he called, and within a few strokes was right beside her once more. Laughing, they stayed side by side until they were close enough to the shore to climb out, dragging their crafts behind them, up the wet sand and over to the blankets they had left.

  Bending over to grab a towel, Jillian heard Grant groan and she turned to see what was the matter. He’s staring at my ass. I should have known! Well, I’ll just give him a little show! Repeating the motion, she bent again, teasing him as she slowly toweled off her legs.

  A slap on her wet bottom had her jumping forward as she twisted around in shock. Rubbing her stinging ass cheek, she stared wide-eyed at his smirking face. “You…you…I can’t believe you did that,” she accused, hating to admit she was turned on as she noticed the prominent bulge in his swim trunks.

  Stalking toward her like a panther after its prey, he did not stop until his arms snaked around her waist, one hand dropping to smooth over her left cheek. “Retribution for wiggling that perfect ass when you know I can’t do anything about it right now.” Pressing his erection into her stomach as he pulled her closer, he said, “But if you’re ready to go home and play, just let me know.”

  With that, he took her lips, searing them with white-hot flames as he licked, nipped, sucked, and plundered her warm crevices. Jillian w
ound her arms around his neck as she gave a little hop, wrapping her legs around his waist, settling his cock closer to her core. She felt his heat with only the bathing suit material between them, now wondering if that had been her smartest move.

  “Guh huhm,” she mumbled against his lips as she pressed closer to him.

  Assuming she had just ordered him to go home, he slowed the kiss, willing his dick to behave. Pulling back, he said, “You got it, babe, but first we’ve got to load the equipment.”

  She groaned at the interruption, the sound shredding his resolve to wait. He quirked a brow and, with a quick nod from her, bent to snag the blankets from the sand, one hand securely around her waist. Quickly glancing around the private beach, he easily carried her behind the first dune he saw before dropping the blanket onto the sand.

  Her lust-filled eyes held his as he gently lay her down on the blanket. Shooting a look around, she determined no one could see them and relaxed as she lifted her arms up toward his shoulders, pulling him down on top of her.

  Grant peered closely into her eyes, checking to make sure she was really all right with what they were about to do. “You okay, babe? We can head home.”

  Her smile lit his world as she closed the small space between their lips and tightened her hold on his shoulders. As he rolled slightly to the side to take his weight off her, she said, “Only thing I’m worried about is getting sand up my…um…well, you know.” Blushing, she burst into giggles.

  Unable to hold back his laughter, he pulled the cups down on her bikini top and said, “Then I’ll just have to make sure the only thing in your you know is my dick!” Before she could reply, he sealed his lips over hers once more before kissing down her neck toward her rosy-tipped nipples.

  Her body arched up, pressing her breasts further into his face as he suckled one nipple while tweaking the other. Her fingers wound through his hair, nails lightly scraping along his scalp. He slid his hand from her breast down over her stomach before slipping underneath the scrap of material of her bikini bottom, finding her curls moist, her body ready.