Saving Grace (Misty Grove Book 2)

by Paige, Victoria

  “Well, yeah, look how you’re stuck with Matt,” Colt winked at me.

  Though Matt was facing Colt, I could hear the scowl in his voice. “Don’t you have some work to do, Montgomery?”

  Colt laughed and tipped his hat. “I sure do. Later.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Matt

  “Everything looks good, Grace.”

  Doctor Fern Ryan pocketed the stethoscope in her medical coat. “I’ve reviewed your files from Edington General. It’ll take me several days to run these additional blood panels.”

  “And my gestation period would be normal?”

  “We’re not an ‘other’ species you know,” Matt grumbled.

  A smile lightened the austere doctor’s face. “An ES subject is every bit as human as you and I. The surrogates do carry the fetus to full-term. In fact, they need all that time to develop. The ES gene is strong. In short, I wouldn’t be surprised if your baby or babies will be a carbon-copy of Matt or Kate.”

  “I don’t care who the baby will look like. I just want to know if he or she will be healthy?” Grace asked.

  “Absolutely. Since the fetus was conceived naturally and has not undergone genetic manipulation, it would not be born with enhanced capabilities, but would simply inherit the non-modified gene traits of his parents. He would not undergo the withdrawal that has plagued the ES upon reaching the age of twenty-four. ES were sourced from a superior gene pool. Your baby will simply be ‘more’.”

  Grace nodded, the anxiety on her face eased to a degree.

  “Aren’t you supposed to do some kind of ultrasound or something?” Matt asked the agency doctor. Fern Ryan wasn’t a stranger to the folks of Misty Grove. Montgomery Ranch was, in reality, a rehabilitation center for injured CIA operatives. The horse ranch worked as a perfect cover because their equine companions proved to be great mental, physical, and emotional therapy for wounded warriors. The secondary building, which was in addition to the ranch house called The Annex, was where most of their ‘visitors’ stayed. The Annex had six bedrooms, a living area, a kitchenette, and the room they were in was outfitted with medical equipment and served as a clinic.

  “I told you, the baby is not even the size of a pea right now,” Grace smiled indulgently.

  “Maybe after another 4 weeks,” Doctor Ryan said. “Are you good on prenatal vitamins?”

  “Yes, I put in an online order.”

  Matt frowned. “Edington is 20 minutes away. I could have gotten you some. Didn’t John have it?”

  “Misty Grove isn’t exactly a family town,” the doctor answered for Grace. “I doubt John Crowder would stock up on prenatal vitamins at his store. I will, however, give you a special formulation after your first trimester.”

  “So, she’s physically fine otherwise? No problems having sex?” Matt asked bluntly.

  Grace’s face flushed pink as her mouth fell open in embarrassment. “Matt!”

  Doctor Ryan regarded him through narrowed eyes although he didn’t miss the gleam of amusement. “No, Matthew, Grace is perfectly fine to have sexual intercourse. The embryo, and later the fetus, are protected very well by the uterus. Unless you have sexual proclivities that involve flogging the pelvis with a cane, there’s nothing in Grace’s medical history that would put her at risk of a miscarriage. If, indeed, you do have other deviant sexual behavior, I regret it’s beyond my expertise. I would, however, suggest Google.”

  Grace covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. His woman’s eyes danced merrily as the Doctor coolly addressed his concerns. Well, fuck, it was a valid query, and as far as he was concerned, very critical. He couldn’t imagine zero sex with Grace for the remaining eight months, not when the thought of her belly swollen with child made him hard like an iron poker.

  One would think the thought of becoming a father would send him running. It had the opposite effect. It made him fiercely possessive, protective, and intensely territorial. Mine. Mine. Mine.

  “Thanks, Doc,” Matt smirked.

  Doctor Ryan shook her head briefly as a ghost of a smile played on her lips. “Anything else, Grace? Matthew?”

  They both answered no.

  “Fabulous.” She turned to secure the blood samples she had drawn from Grace earlier. “I’ll be in touch in the next week or so with your results and then we’ll schedule your next appointment. If there are any emergencies, go to Edington General immediately. I’ll leave you a name and number of a physician you can call.”

  “Thanks for flying down here so quickly, Doctor Ryan,” Matt said.

  “I’m always here to serve,” the doctor smiled. “Take care of Grace.”

  “I will.”

  When Doctor Ryan left, Grace turned to him. “When did you have time to contact her?”

  “Last night, after we had sex.”

  “Is that why you left the room?”

  “Yeah, babe,” Matt replied. “I know you assured me it was okay to have sex, but I could easily lose control with you.”

  “You call this morning control?” Grace grinned as she stepped into her panties. She pulled off her medical gown and the nipples on her heavy breasts pouted at him. His mouth watered. Dusky tips waited to be sucked.

  “No.” Her sharp rebuke broke the trance he didn’t know he was in.

  “No?” Matt croaked. “I’ll be quick?”

  “Matt, I just got fingered and prodded by a doctor,” she scolded. “Can you not think with your dick for a minute?”

  “You ask the impossible, gypsy,” he groaned as he reached for her.

  She swatted his arm away, ran behind the exam table, and strapped on her bra. After pulling a sweater over her head, she stood before him with arms akimbo. “Goodness, how many times can you go in one day?”

  “You don’t wanna know,” Matt rubbed his face in frustration as he turned away from the sight of her bare legs, knowing all he had to do was bend her over, shove the piece of scrap she called panties away, and be inside her in seconds. “Cover up,” he muttered.

  “Jeez, it’s not my fault you have absolutely zero self-control,” she teased as he heard the swish of fabric.

  “Don’t talk to me about self-control.” He turned to face her then and smiled wryly. “I’m the one sleeping in the next bedroom with a bad case of blue balls because the woman I want is too stubborn to admit she wants me back.”

  “Are you saying I was in denial?” Grace sassed.

  “Yeah, babe, you were.”

  “I had amnesia. It was a very confusing time for me and what memories I had of you were not encouraging.”

  “That’s the only reason I haven’t touched you until last night, but there’s no turning back now. You know that, right?”

  “Because of the baby?”

  Jesus Christ. Why couldn’t she see that baby or not, he was all in.

  “Come here,” he ordered.

  Grace eyed him dubiously. “Why?”

  “So I can kiss some sense into you.”

  “Uh-uh. I’m just going to end up flat on my back.”

  Matt stalked toward her, and Grace made the mistake of backing away which only aroused the predator in him.

  “Don’t move,” he growled and she froze at the gutturalness of his tone. He reached for her again and banded her into a tight embrace. “When you run away from me, you can be damned sure I’ll be coming after you. And when I catch you, I’ll have you flat on your back, your knees up to your ears, and I’ll be balls deep inside you.”

  Her breathing turned erratic, and fuck him, he needed to control the blood surging to his dick, or they’d never get anything done today.

  A sound at the entrance drew their attention as the door opened and Colt and Mac stepped in. The newcomers paused, surveying the scene.

  “Are we interrupting something?” Colt asked slyly

  “No,” Grace squeaked and tried to pull away.

  Matt wouldn’t let her. Instead, his hands slid to her ass and lifted her to his level to give her a quick ki
ss before scowling at Colt. “Your timing sucks.”

  He introduced Grace to Colt’s ranch manager. Dugal “Mac” McKenzie was a former recon marine and Military Working Dog handler. All their ranch hands were former military who had undergone extensive background checks by the CIA. Matt would even hasten to say that this two-hundred-acre ranch was the safest place for Grace to hide out based on the personnel that could protect her. The only problem was the mixed-terrain wasn’t fully secured. There wasn’t ever a need because everyone who lived on the ranch was capable of protecting themselves.

  “Babe, why don’t you head out with Mac and check out the stables? I’ve got some business to discuss with Colt.”

  Grace shot him a suspicious look, but Mac skillfully maneuvered her to the door. “Come on, Ms. Levinson. After I show you our horses, you both should stay for lunch. I’ve got a pot of Southern goulash and skillet cornbread warming in the oven.”

  Matt smirked as he watched his woman follow Mac without any arguments.

  “That’s one way to keep a pregnant woman in line,” he murmured to Colt.

  The other man chuckled. “Well, Mac had to do something seeing how unsubtle you were about discussing Grace behind her back.” Colt lifted his chin. “What do you need?”

  “I need you to be my best man.”

  If he’d said that there was a line of terrorists waiting to ambush the ranch, Colt couldn’t have looked more startled.

  “Come again?” his friend asked. “Am I being led to believe that you, Matt Foster, are getting hitched?”

  “Grace is pregnant.”

  “Don’t feed me that line,” Colt scoffed. “You’re not that honorable.”

  Surprisingly, Matt wasn’t offended.

  “You’d offer financial support, and I could see you playing some role in your kid’s life,” the rancher continued, “but getting tied to a woman because you’ve knocked her up? No way. So, tell me the real reason.”

  “I don’t know,” Matt admitted. “You’re right, Grace being pregnant isn’t the driving reason, but it’s a good excuse to tie her to me.”

  “Why?”

  “Jesus, you want me to talk about feelings?” Now Colt irritated him. “I told you I don’t fucking know. I’m just informing you I want you to be my best man, and I’m calling Kate to let her know I’m getting married. I thought I’d give you the heads-up just in case she shows up.”

  For the second time in a span of a few minutes, Colt froze. Then he turned away from Matt and swore viciously.

  “Is Mya out of the picture?” Matt asked quietly.

  “She was never much in the picture,” Colt replied, still facing the wall with his head bowed, his shoulders rising and falling like he was catching his breath. Kate really did a number on the former SEAL and Matt helped her. Now that he was finding his own happy with Grace, he wanted the same for his twin, so he was going to come clean. Matt had been very wrong when he thought there was no future of a family for their kind. Cassie was fast becoming a living proof of that.

  “Misty Grove is as much Kate’s home as it is any of ours,” his friend said, finally pivoting to level Matt with a hard gaze. “I’m not promising I won’t beat up that prick if she shows up with him.”

  “Tony Lucchetti is gay,” Matt announced abruptly.

  “What?” Colt’s eyes widened, and Matt tried not to roll his eyes at the sudden hope that flared in his friend’s eyes.

  “I saw her kiss him,” he said roughly. “I saw him undress her.”

  “Were you some kind of stalker?” Matt asked incredulously and with much humor.

  “First floor study with French windows in a goddamned mansion. Anyone with night-vision could look in.” The rancher defended his actions, his face drawing into pained lines at the memory. “Why would she do that?”

  “Take a guess? Maybe someone wouldn’t leave her alone and kept following her around like a lost puppy.”

  “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “I understood Kate’s reasoning then. Like her, I believed our kind could never find a happily-fucking-ever-after. You knew how I was the jackass who put doubts in Cassie’s head about Trent. I nearly screwed up their relationship if not for the sheriff’s tenacity.”

  “And now?”

  “I never thought I’d put anyone’s life above my siblings.”

  Colt raised a brow at this.

  “That’s how you know, I guess,” Matt shrugged. “We always had this test back in Chrysalis. If ever we were dropped into the enemy zone and if there was only one person I could save … mine was always Kate. No offense to Cassie and Lucas, but I always dealt with absolutes. I’m going to save my twin first.”

  “That has changed?”

  “Yes. It would be Grace.”

  “You love her.”

  “See, I don’t know what that word means.” Matt rubbed his face in frustration. “I see it thrown around often by people who wouldn’t hang around when things get tough. If that’s love, I don’t want it, and that’s not what I’m feeling for Grace because I’d give my life for her.”

  Understanding dawned on Colt’s face. “I’ll be damned. You’re making yourself The Reaper’s target.”

  Matt nodded grimly. “If he’s as obsessed with Grace as I’m thinking he is, he’ll come after me first.”

  “How quickly are you moving on this?”

  “As soon as possible. I want her legally bound to me by the end of the week. John could probably perform the ceremony since he’s done the online stuff. If she wants a wedding, we can plan it later, but you’re my best man.”

  “Matt, have you actually asked Grace to marry you?” His friend was scratching his jaw, grinning wryly.

  “I may have mentioned it,” Matt admitted sheepishly. Hell, what did he know about proposing. He didn’t do hearts and flowers kind of shit.

  Colt shook his head, chuckling. “You need to get a ring and ask her. That’s how it’s done.”

  “I know that,” Matt grumbled. “But I couldn’t wait to tell her she’s marrying me. It’s not as if I’m giving her a choice.”

  “You’re a piece of work,” Colt muttered in resignation. “Congratulations, man. Who knows, I might just take a page out of your book.”

  Matt glanced at Colt sharply, but the other man looked at him innocently and said, “Come on, let’s go get some lunch.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Grace

  “I don’t understand, Grace. If your memory is back, why can’t you return to DC?”

  Matt finally relented and let me call Elliot. The trade-off cost me. I agreed to apply for a marriage license with him. What he hadn’t secured from me was my definite, affirmative answer about marrying him that Saturday, just two days later.

  “I’ve always been in the field before, I don’t know why this is any different,” I told my boss.

  “Is it Foster? Are you involved with him?”

  Involved was an understatement since I was having the man’s baby. I wasn’t ready to share that yet with Elliot.

  “Matt’s not the reason, but, yes, we’re together.”

  “You expect me to believe that Foster has nothing to do with your reluctance in returning to our office?”

  “No. I don’t know what to expect anymore, Elliot. I don’t understand why you need me there. I can file my report about Troy from here, if you would just reinstate my access.”

  “Answer me this. Do you actually have anything concrete to report? You were there for weeks before the bombing and yet you gave me nothing.”

  “There were no dealings with the cartel or the Dixie Mafia. Your sources were wrong. I can hardly make up stuff to put in my report.”

  “So, nothing? You wasted agency time and money down there with nothing to show.”

  “There are rumors that El Segador is in the country and on a rampage.”

  The silence was so protracted, I thought the line went dead.

  “Elliot?”

  “Who to
ld you this?”

  “Two of Troy’s men have been killed.”

  “deLamar told you this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where? When?”

  “I don’t know where. A month ago,” I lied. And so, the game of cat and mouse began.

  “And he said El Segador was responsible?”

  “Yes,” I said. “From what I remember, he’s loyal to Hector Vargas, but I’m not sure if it’s more loyalty to Vargas himself or to the head of the cartel.”

  “I’m not sure either, I’ll have to review the files,” Elliot replied. “The bulk of my attention right now is helping the DOJ build a case against Hector Vargas.”

  “Then let me handle El Segador.”

  “You think Vargas is communicating with him even while he’s in prison?”

  “Could be or The Reaper is working on a kill list that had been contracted even before we captured Vargas.”

  “We caught Vargas two years ago. Why is this happening now?”

  “Maybe The Reaper had orders to eliminate anyone who could testify against his boss.”

  “Why target deLamar’s men and not Troy himself?”

  “Maybe the cartel still has use for Troy.” I’d been making this up as I went. Misinformation was a very important skill when doing covert work in the underworld. “Just because I haven’t found proof of current partnership doesn’t mean there wouldn’t be future association.”

  “All right, I’ll re-enable your access. I’ll text you your new password.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Let me know immediately if you find out anything.”

  “Will do.”

  I ended the call with Elliot without any guilt in withholding information. Even if his involvement with the new cartel leadership was a one-time deal, he was already in their pockets, and it would be easy to blackmail him to do more.

  I glanced at the piece of paper Cassie had handed me that morning. Trent left with Colt and Lucas the day before for the nation’s capital to meet with Admiral Benjamin Porter—the architect of the proposed training camp and God knows how many clandestine operations. I had worked with him when we had infiltrated the Russian mob. He’d somehow manipulated Elliot to send me to Misty Grove after Troy. I wouldn’t be surprised if his main purpose was so I’d find out that the cartel’s accountant was prepared to run.