Fall Into You (40 page)

But as soon as he hopped out of the truck, he saw a familiar cop walking out of the
front of the building with his arm around a redhead. Grant’s heart nearly jumped out
of his chest to race ahead of him. He launched himself toward Andre and Charli, relief
coursing through him like fingers of electricity.
She’s okay, she’s okay…

Charli glanced up as he approached, her face white, her shoulders hunched. He couldn’t
ever remember seeing her look so frail, like a strong breeze would knock her over.
Andre kept a firm hold around her shoulders until Grant reached them, then he handed
her over to him. Despite her earlier standoffishness, Charli came to him willingly,
sagging against him and curling her fingers into his shirt.

“Oh, thank God,” he murmured, running his hands along her back, checking that she
was all in one piece. “You’re all right. Baby, what happened, are you okay?”

Andre frowned. “She said she doesn’t want to talk here.”

“Right. Of course.” He kept Charli close and cocked his head toward his truck. “Andre,
I have something I need to give you in my truck. Walk with us?”

“Yeah, no problem.” Andre didn’t hesitate or question why Grant had needed his help
or what it involved.

The implicit trust hit Grant right in the gut. For so long, he’d kept everyone at
arm’s length. But Jace and Andre hadn’t relented when they’d joined The Ranch. They’d
somehow worked their way past his force field and for the first time in as long as
he could remember, he had real friends. Ones who would drop everything to help him
no questions asked if he needed it.

And as he wrapped his arm around Charli and guided her to his truck, he realized that
Charli had done the same thing. With her hard head and take-no-bullshit attitude,
she’d hurdled right over his defenses. But unlike Jace and Andre, Charli hadn’t just
worked her way into his circle of friends, but rather into every corner of his being.
For the few minutes today that he’d thought he may never see her again, he’d felt
the impact of just how deeply she’d burrowed into his psyche.

Once they got to his truck, he helped her into the passenger side, then grabbed the
file box he’d set on his floorboard. He shut Charli’s door with his hip, then handed
the box to Andre. “Take this directly to the station. From what I understand, there
are audio recordings and files that will implicate a number of government officials
and business owners in a cheating scandal with Dallas University. My source also told
me there are recordings of conversations where break-ins and attempted murder are
discussed.”

Andre gave him a you-gotta-be-shittin’-me look. “How the hell did you get this kind
of information?”

“I have my methods. It’s probably better you not know.” He glanced over at Charli’s
building, making sure no one was heading
their way. “Just don’t turn it over to anyone you don’t trust. I don’t know how deep
this goes within the city government.”

“No worries.” He nodded toward the truck. “You got everything covered with your girl?”

“Covered? Yes. Worked out? No.”

Andre’s expression was all too knowing. It wasn’t that long ago that he was torn up
about his own woman. “She went with you willingly. That’s a start.”

Grant clapped Andre on the shoulder as he passed him. “That’s about all I’ve got right
now. Thanks for your help, man.”

“Anytime, brother. Good luck.”

Grant headed to the driver’s side. Luck. He was going to need more than that. Because
what he knew he needed to do was going to make his days of facing down terrorists
look like a day at kindergarten.

Here goes nothing.

Charli sat curled on the couch in her cabin, huddled around a cup of hot tea. Her
stomach had finally settled, and a long shower had helped slough off some of the ugliness
of the day, but she still couldn’t settle her mind.

Grant had told her on the way what he’d done to Pete, what information he’d gotten
out of him. Charli couldn’t help the satisfaction the news had brought her. She almost
wished she could’ve been there to see Pete’s face when Grant, in all his six-foot-seven,
pissed-off cowboy glory, had busted through his door. Grant hadn’t given her details
about what threats he’d laid down, but she had a feeling Pete was probably still hiding
in a closet in his house.

Served the bastard right.

But finding out in the same day that Trey, a guy she’d trusted wholeheartedly, had
put her life on the line had her questioning her judgment? How could she have been
so stupid? At one time, she’d truly cared about Trey. Even if their relationship had
dissolved, she’d always considered him one of her closest friends. Were her instincts
that off?

Of course they were. Hell, she’d actually thought she could help Grant get over his
wife. Her instincts were about as accurate as her ability to guess lottery numbers.

Grant sank onto the armchair opposite her. “Andre called, said they’re putting together
arrest warrants for at least seven people, including your boss and that Brinkley guy
he was with last night at the fund-raiser. Apparently, Pete took ‘cover your ass’
to the
n
th degree. He secretly taped almost every conversation he had with anyone.”

She sipped her tea. “Told you, lawyer family.”

“Right.” He took a pull from the beer he was holding and looked at her like he had
a thousand things to say but couldn’t put together one.

The short few feet between them seemed to grow wider as they sat there. Had it only
been last night that they’d made love in the grass? “You don’t have to babysit me.
I’m fine.”

“I don’t want you going back to your place until everyone’s been rounded up,” he said,
setting his beer on the coffee table. “Someone could come after you when they realize
you were the one to turn them in.”

“I know.” She pulled the blanket more tightly around her shoulders, her skin prickling
at the thought of always looking over her shoulder. “I talked to my brother a few
minutes ago. I’m going to stay with him for a little while until I figure out what
I’m going to do. I’m sure my employment will be reinstated after everything comes
out, but as of right now I’m not even sure I want to go back to TSN.”

Grant’s stoicism fell away, revealing a shade of hurt beneath it. “So you’re leaving?”

She looked down at the frayed ends of the blanket. “I can’t stay here, Grant.”

She knew if she hung around him long enough, she’d slip up. Her normal armor seemed
to turn to gossamer anytime he was around.
She’d fall into bed with him in a weak moment and end up digging herself into a deeper
hole. She was done settling. She wasn’t going to play second best for anyone, and
she wasn’t going to stay in a job that wasn’t challenging her anymore. Life was too
short to give up and set up camp on the side of the mountain instead of reaching the
summit.

Even if she was going to be sitting on that summit all by her damn self.

“When do you plan on leaving?” he asked quietly.

“Tomorrow.”

He leaned forward, lacing his fingers between his knees. “Let me drive you to Baton
Rouge.”

She winced. Nine hours sharing that small truck cab with him? Listening to that voice,
being surrounded by his scent, hearing him hum to his favorite country songs? It would
kill her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He looked up, the wear of the day showing on his face. “My wife lost her life because
I slacked off on one little detail, assumed she was safe. If something were to happen
to you because I didn’t finish the job of protecting you, I…I would never forgive
myself.”

The naked honesty in his voice sliced right through her. He’d never forgive himself.
He definitely hadn’t forgiven himself for the first time. He wore that guilt like
an extra layer of clothes. And though the chances of something actually happening
to her between here and Max’s place were slim, she couldn’t bear the thought of adding
anything else to Grant’s burden. If she was a “job” to him, she’d let him finish it.

“Okay. We can ride together.” She set her tea down and met his gaze. “But I wish you’d
give yourself a break. It’s not your job to protect the world, Grant. What happened
to Rachel wasn’t your fault; it was the fault of the man who murdered her. Sometimes
bad things happen and there’s nothing we could’ve done to stop it.”

He stood, shoving his hands in his pockets and gracing her with
a sad smile. “I don’t want to protect the world. I just want to protect you, freckles.”

And with that, he turned on his boot heel and walked out, leaving her sitting there
staring after him.

Grant’s internal military clock apparently hadn’t eased up over time. The next morning
they were on their way before the chickens had even cracked an eye open. Grant drove
through town so she could retrieve her rental car and return it, then he stopped by
her house so she could grab a few extra things.

She had no idea how long she’d be staying with her brother, so she wanted to be prepared.
At this point, she didn’t even know if she wanted to come back. Looking for work in
Louisiana was starting to sound more and more appealing. What had Trey said to her?
She was the kind of person who could disappear and no one would notice for a while?
That basically summed up her years in Texas. Now that her job was gone, she had nothing
tying her here.

She glanced over at Grant as they cruised down the mostly empty interstate between
Dallas and Shreveport, her heart pinging at the realization that this was going to
be the last day with him. They hadn’t talked much so far. And she suspected the steady
stream of music was by design. He was as uncomfortable with this arrangement as she
was. Even in profile, she could sense his tension. That muscle in his jaw was flexing
beneath the layer of stubble, and his hands were holding the steering wheel so hard
she knew his fingers had to be aching.

The sunlight caught the metal in his wedding band, and the flash blinded her for moment,
forcing her to turn away. Even in silence, she couldn’t be spared a reminder of all
that stood between them. She turned her gaze to the trees whizzing by her on the right
side. Only what? Six hours to go? She tapped her head lightly against the glass.

“Hey, Charli?” Grant said a little while later, lowering the music and interrupting
her brooding.

“Uh-huh,” she said, not bothering to look his way. She’d been counting the number
of billboards with cows on them and didn’t want to lose her spot.

The truck slowed a bit. “You remember that little speech I gave you when we first
went over The Ranch’s rules—the part about safe, sane, and consensual?”

That dragged her attention away from the road signs. “Uh, yeah.”

He sent her a don’t-hate-me look and veered right, sending them along the exit ramp.
“Well, I promise this is going to be safe…and mostly sane. Hopefully you’ll forgive
me on the consensual part.”