by Addison Fox
Only Reese had stood back, distant and cold.
High and mighty Reese Grantham, who thought she was above it all. She’d stood there quietly at the funeral, staring through everyone and never shedding a tear. In the months after Jamie died, they’d seen each other from time to time and Reese never even acknowledged the loss. She’d simply moved on, as if she’d never had a brother. As if nothing had happened and no one had died. Above it all like some regal queen.
And now she was doing it again.
While Jamie had raged on about his old man, complaining that his father was too uptight to ever understand him and what made him tick, she’d come to understand Russ Grantham differently. Officer Grantham had been an okay guy. He’d always been nice to her when he’d seen her around town and wished her well after she and Paul got married. He’d always ask her how she was doing and never assumed she had simply gotten over her high school boyfriend or the shock of how he died.
And then he’d figured out how to get back a piece of Jamie.
Oh, the town was all aflutter with how awful it was, but there was a piece of her—a surprisingly big piece—that understood. Even cheered him a bit. He had made a choice to act and take out some of the scum who infected this part of Texas with their drugs and their empty promises.
He was a hero.
It was one thing for no one in the Pass to understand that, but his own daughter? Her father had died and Reese had proven herself once again to have a heart of ice. She walked around all regal and proud, above the sympathy and the kind words and the grief.
This was the example they were setting for the students of Midnight Pass? No way.
She’d had enough.
It was high time Reese Grantham started paying a bit more attention. Time she stepped off that block of ice, slipped off the crown of indifference and understood what was expected of her.
She hadn’t finalized her approach, but her access to the high school made it easy to walk the floor and time out how long it would take to carry out her plans. Reese Grantham thought she could ignore her family and move on with her life.
So there was no better place to take her down than the places she believed she was safe.
A lesson she was going to start teaching tonight.
* * *
Reese set out the dishes, napkins and forks and knives, amused to still hear the vacuum running up and down her hallway. It shouldn’t be funny—she hardly subscribed to gender roles and Hoyt was as capable of running her vacuum as she was—but there was something about that large powerful body, clad in jeans and a black T-shirt, that seemed incongruous with a Friday-night cleaning session.
Less amusing and far more serious was the kiss he’d laid on her shortly after arriving. She could still feel the imprint of his lips and the twin brands where his hands had settled at her hips.
Goodness, the man was lethal. Whether he was in full-on cowboy mode like the other day at school, or dressed in his military uniform on Memorial Day crossing through the town square, or here, dressed for a casual Friday night, it didn’t seem to matter. Her mouth watered at all of it.
Even if it had begun to go way beyond attraction.
Like now, she admitted to herself. It would be so easy to make the evening all about how he looked: as American as apple pie and infinitely more scrumptious. Only he was so much more than that. While she did revel in teasing him, his concern for her health was touching. The fact that he paid attention and worried over her was endearing and sweet.
He’d been the same way after he’d stopped into her classroom. The quiet moments between them, so heavy with need and longing, had faded after she stepped away, putting those feelings firmly back into that small place in her heart where she kept them hidden. And then he’d gone and helped her, hanging pieces from the highest corners of her bulletin board and asking her questions about her lesson plans.
Questions he seemed genuinely interested in knowing the answers to.
Did the kids really enjoy reading A Tale of Two Cities? And if she honest-to-goodness liked Pride and Prejudice or if she taught it because she had to? And even more interesting, when she told him she taught the first Harry Potter book along with A Separate Peace, he’d launched into a soliloquy of how much he loved the entire Harry Potter series.
Yes, the man was a surprise. The more she learned about him, the more she wanted to know. He wasn’t just a handsome cowboy in well-fitted jeans. Well, she amended, he was that, but he was so much more.
And wasn’t that just the most amazing thing?
“Pizza’s here,” Hoyt hollered down the hall, the vacuum shutting off just before his heavy tread faded as he moved toward the door. She’d planned to buy dinner and had already laid out money on the hall table in her entryway, but he ignored the money, pulling out his wallet as he opened the door.
“Hoyt. Money for the pizza’s on the hall table.”
“I’ve got it.” He waved her off and while she appreciated the gesture, something in it poked at her. She could pay for her own dinner and his, too. And damn it, why did he seem to feel he had to pay for everything?
They weren’t dating.
And hell, even if they were, she wouldn’t expect him to buy every meal then, either.
It’s just a pizza, Reese. Find another sword to fall on.
She took a few deep breaths before following him into the kitchen. It was just a pizza, after all; they weren’t sharing a gourmet meal. The rich scents of cheese and warm sauce wafted toward her, effectively pulling her those last few steps into the kitchen. “What do you want to drink?”
“A soda’s fine.”
She pulled out a cola for him and got herself some water and settled both on the table. The scene was oddly domestic, made only more so by their shared cleaning moments before.
“Living room’s ready for inspection after dinner.” It was hard to remain irritated in the face of that smile and the small puff of his chest. “I roll a mean vacuum.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“See that you do.” Hoyt took a big bite of his pizza and chewed, his expression thoughtful. “Belle said she’d visited earlier.”
“She did.” Reese took a bite of her own, wondering where he was going with his observation. If he wanted to know something, he could ask. Which was curious because underneath the casual comment she suspected that Belle’s visit had bothered him.
Which made no sense at all.
Why would he care if his soon-to-be sister-in-law stopped over? Add on that she and Belle had been friends since they were kids and his curiosity seemed misplaced.
“I guess I didn’t realize you two visited regularly.”
“I haven’t seen her as much over the past year, but we are friends.” And if their conversation earlier was any indication, she and Belle were on a path to getting that friendship back in place. Reese had naturally backed away after the events of the spring and it was healing to know she didn’t need to.
Especially after her mother’s dismal reaction to the baby. Belle seemed sure that Serena would come around, but Reese wasn’t so certain. And amidst that insecurity, it was wonderful to know she had a friend to lean on.
Which made Hoyt’s seeming upset that much more difficult. Suddenly as prickly as she’d felt over the money for the pizza, Reese pressed a bit harder. “Does it upset you that Belle came over?”
“No.” Hoyt quickly took another bite of pizza, stuffing his mouth and effectively stalling his side of the conversation.
“You sure about that?”
“Of course I’m sure.” Hoyt got up and crossed to the counter for another slice. “Would you like any?”
Reese waved her pizza in the air, still only half eaten. “I’m good at the moment.”
“Okay.”
She nearly laughed at his sullen expression when he returned to his s
eat. Despite their absolutely riveting conversation, she sensed she was nearing a breakthrough and decided to push on. “I’ve got a question, then.”
“Shoot.”
“Why did you pay for the pizza? I left money on the table by the door.”
“It’s a pizza.”
“Exactly. Just a pizza. I can buy it as easy as you.”
“It was a nice thing to do.”
“Like Belle’s visit was a nice thing?”
Reese saw the moment the inane jab hit the mark. “What are you trying to say?”
“You tell me.” She shot the response right back, their aimless parry and thrust taking on a sharper edge.
“I think it’s great Belle came over. Great that you had a nice afternoon talking and laughing and having a grand old time. And you couldn’t be bothered to call me or text me once. Hell, if I hadn’t come to the school on Wednesday, would I have even heard from you after dinner with my family?”
Reese glanced down at her plate. “That’s some pizza.” She picked up her slice, turning it around. “They put truth serum in the cheese?”
Hoyt slammed back his chair, grabbing his plate and tossing it into the sink. The ceramic made a hard thud but nothing broke, even as the sound echoed off the kitchen walls. “This isn’t a joke.”
“No,” Reese agreed. “It’s not.”
“Then why don’t you just say to me what you want to say?”
“I could ask you that same question. Why are you here?”
“Because I wanted to check in on you.”
Reese was on her feet now, unwilling to have him stomp around her kitchen like a two-year-old who couldn’t put words to his irritation. “And vacuum my floors and buy me dinner? That was your plan on the drive over here?”
“No, I—” He broke off, the same frustration that rode that proverbial toddler’s face filling his own. “I wanted to see you. And then I find out Belle’s over here laughing and having a good time and you couldn’t be bothered to let me know how you are.”
“Is that how we’re playing things now? Checking in with each other?” She moved up closer into his space. “We’re not dating, remember? And we’re not a couple.”
“We’re having a baby.”
“Right. From a wild night of passion and a bad condom. Hardly the stuff of love and romance and commitment.”
Reese had no idea where the emotion came from, but what had started as a gentle line of teasing, brought on by the curiosity of having him in her kitchen on a Friday night, had become something else entirely.
Catharsis?
Or just that truth serum she’d teased him was on the pizza?
Because she and Hoyt Reynolds didn’t have a relationship. But they now had a bond that would tie them together for life. A tie that meant they needed to sit down and begin to figure out what that all meant.
“When in the last week and a half have I not shown you my commitment? Hell, I even asked you to marry me. That wasn’t for show, yet you brushed it off without even considering it.” Hoyt shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, the move highlighting his triceps. Reese fought to keep herself focused on his question and off that tantalizing line of strength.
Consider it?
She hadn’t thought of much else. How could he possibly think she hadn’t spent painstaking hours thinking about marrying him? Hours where making that choice seemed like the answer to all her problems. Only to then adamantly fight herself not to take the easy route and give in, to accept life with a man who didn’t love her, just to care for their child.
“I have considered it, Hoyt.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“Look. This has happened fast and neither of us has had a lot of time to process the implications. Is it so wrong that I’m trying to protect myself?”
Hoyt stared at her from the counter, those tempting muscles drawing her attention despite her best efforts. Did he know how comforting it was to look over and see all that raw strength and ready commitment to do the right thing? To know that he wasn’t prepared to abandon her to deal with the consequences of their night together alone? To know that he’d give up his future happiness just to care for his child and give that baby a name?
It meant more than she could ever say and was the very reason she couldn’t take him up on the offer. Couldn’t consign her child’s father to a loveless marriage.
Or live her life knowing love wasn’t the first reason—or a reason at all—that he’d proposed to her.
Reese nearly said it. Nearly allowed that truth, so sour on her tongue, to spill out in a torrent of words and emotions and feelings she couldn’t hold back any longer. She’d nearly given in, so tired of trying to hold it all together, when all she really wanted was someone to hold her close and promise her that she was making the right decisions. That their child had a bright and happy future.
And that she did, too.
“Hoyt. I—”
The words died in her throat as gunshots erupted outside the kitchen, the window behind Hoyt’s head shattering into a million pieces.
Chapter 12
Hoyt dived for Reese, dragging her into his arms before pushing them both to the floor. Every bit of military training kicked in and he cradled her close, forming a shield with his body, all the while keeping his back to the window. Nudging them closer to the corner of the kitchen, he dragged the table with him so that they had cover over their heads, but only the sound of the table legs moving across her tile floor and their heavy breaths interrupted the silence.
“Hoyt. Are you okay?” Reese’s hands were on his back, feeling around before moving up to grip the sides of his head. “Are you hurt?”
“Shh. I’m fine. I’m not hit.” He kept his arms firmly around her, crooning lightly as the shock of the moment gave way to a rush of adrenaline. “It’s okay.”
Hoyt saw it the moment that adrenaline crested, a wave of emotion in its wake. Hot tears coated his T-shirt as she pressed her face against his chest. Her voice was muffled, but he understood her clearly enough. “I thought something happened to you. I don’t know how it didn’t. You were right there. In front of the window as it just...exploded!”
They sat there like that, the two of them huddled under the table, as he gave her a moment to ride the wave and get it all out. The shock. The fear. And the overwhelming disbelief that someone had shot at them.
His military training ran deep and the urge to get outside and scan the area for the threat was strong, even as he knew whoever was responsible had hightailed it out of there. Which also meant he needed to call Belle and get the police out to see what they could find.
But again, Hoyt sensed in that moment Reese needed him more. So he pulled her close, ignoring the awkward spread of his legs beneath the small space and just kept rubbing large circles over her back as she cried it out.
And let those tears fuel his anger as it spread, sharp and deep, clearing away any lingering reasons to doubt his concerns over the past few days. Anger that spiked when he took in the bullet lodged in the cabinet nearest the sink.
Who was doing this?
Why had someone targeted her?
And what could they possibly hope to gain?
She was a high school teacher. A kind, decent, generous, hardworking schoolteacher who wouldn’t hurt a fly and, best as he could tell, kept to herself.
Was this some lingering vendetta against her father?
That thought brought a host of others, including the raw panic that one of drug gangs that had counted some of Russ Grantham’s victims as their own might have decided to come after Russ’s family.
But would they do it this way?
He was no expert on gang warfare and he’d certainly run his concerns past Belle. Hell, he’d go to the makeshift FBI office the Feds had set up in the Pass if that would help. But would a drug carte
l really toy with a victim like this? Spiders? Bullets through windows? It seemed unnecessary and petty somehow. Like a person unable to truly decide if they were in or out on committing a crime. Not the work of a drug kingpin and his minions.
Reese lifted her head, her hazel eyes liquid with tears. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. I promise. Are you okay?”
“I just don’t understand this. Nothing about it makes any sense.”
He couldn’t argue with her, so he simply nodded his head and pulled her close once more. And vowed they’d get to the bottom of it all.
* * *
Arden clutched Reese’s hand as they sat in her living room, both of them watching the intermittent flash of lights as various members of the MPPD crisscrossed her front yard looking for clues. Arden and Reese had pulled back the filmy curtains to see what was going on but Reese almost wished they’d left them closed, unable to fully see the various police department members seeking clues to a shooter.
Although the initial shock had worn off, Reese still couldn’t believe what had happened, or why anyone would shoot at her home. Worse, she still shuddered to think how close a bullet had come to striking Hoyt as he stood there like an easy mark in front of the window.
How had the shooter missed him?
Was it intentional? Or were they a bad shot? Or had Hoyt simply gotten lucky as the bullet missed its intended target? Her.
“I’m sorry you had to come out here for this.”
Arden shifted her attention off the activity through the front window and turned fully to look at her. “What are you possibly sorry about?”
“This.” Reese waved a hand toward the window. “All of this. Whatever this actually is.”
“Well it’s certainly not your fault and I won’t have you apologizing for it.” Arden waited a moment, then pressed on. “You’re part of us now, Reese. We’re here for you. I hope you understand that.”