Long Way Home (14 page)

Mallory waited to talk until the waitress poured another round of water and tea for Grace then left again. “If he stomped around and blamed you, that would be one thing.”

Grace wasn’t convinced. “This was worse. A full emotional shutdown.”

“I’m telling you, that’s a good thing.” Mallory pressed her shoulder against Leah’s and nodded in the direction of her cell. “Does Declan know?”

With a swipe of her finger, Leah checked and started nodding. “He just texted that he has something huge to tell me.”

“There you go.” Mallory took a sip of water. “Either it’s the pregnancy, or the house finally fell down on him.”

Leah glanced over Grace’s shoulder. “I give up—why is your FBI boyfriend skulking at the counter?”

Mallory didn’t even look in Walker’s direction. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s a guy who I’ve slept with who refuses to tell me why he’s really in town.”

Leah started talking before Mallory finished. “To destroy Callen.”

“I suggested that, and Walker went into shutdown mode. Maybe he and Callen should try being friends. Sounds like they use the same coping mechanisms,” Mallory said.

Grace agreed. The more she learned and saw, the more alike she found them.

But Leah was off again. “I hate when you call him that.”

“It’s his name. Walker. What should I call him?”

Leah snorted. “You don’t want me to answer that.”

“Give me a second.” Since they seemed to be lost in an argument about Walker, Grace decided to actually go talk with the man.

She walked toward him, watching his eyes grow more shuttered with each approaching step. She slid onto the stool next to him and faced into the kitchen, mirroring his stance. “Any chance you’ll tell me what’s happening with you?”

Walker kept sipping his coffee, holding the mug right at his mouth. “You need to leave town.”

“Not happening.” And once she disclosed the baby news, Walker would explode. No question about it.

“I can’t do this with you here.”

This.
Slipping up and using that word was the first sign something big hovered on the horizon, even though nothing should be, since he was no longer assigned to the Hanover case. “What are you planning?”

“You care about Callen, though I have no fucking idea why, and—”

And that was enough of that. “You’re on leave. I checked back at the office.”

“Why?” Walker barked out the question.

“This is all a personal vendetta, and it has to stop.” The
this
had something to do with Walker and his past, and it was all wrapped up with the Hanover family.

She’d checked every record looking for some tie, something to show his family lost money to Charlie, but Walker didn’t have family. He had a mother who was hospitalized for much of his young life before she died and an absentee father. A trucker or something.

Walker shook his head. “You only think you care about him.”

“I love him, but I’m worried about you.” The men in her life were so stubborn she was tempted to bang their heads together. Anything that would force some reason into either of their brains. “You’re going to lose your job for real and, honestly, there is nothing to find here. Callen is clean.”

“He tell you that during sex?”

“Watch it.”

Walker had the good sense to look sorry, even though he didn’t say it. “You’re wrong about him.”

But she noticed he wasn’t denying the parts about his vendetta or his job. For some reason he was willing to risk everything going after Callen and his brothers, and she could not figure out the key to it all. “Why are you so sure?”

“I just know, all right?”

She followed his gaze. Forget staring into the kitchen. He was looking into the mirror and focusing on Mallory. The guy had it bad. If he’d just put the pettiness aside, he might be able to build something here. And Mallory would be good for him. All mouthy and strong, she’d have him whipped into shape fast.

Grace had to get him to see reason first. “No, Walker. That’s not good enough. Why can’t you let this go?”

He slammed the mug on the counter. “Because I vowed to follow it through.”

“What are you talking about?” She did one last mental search and came up empty. “Vowed to who?”

He dropped some cash on the table and got up. “Just go, Grace. Before it’s too late.” Then he walked out, never peeking in Mallory’s direction or saying a thing.

Looked to Grace like she had another runner of sorts. Wonderful.

Callen stood by the window in Grace’s motel room and pulled back the curtain to stare out at the town square, such as it was. Hanging out on one side of the room didn’t stop him from feeling about four sizes too big for the space. Everything he said and did came out awkward and fumbling right now. It was as if he stood outside of himself, watching every stupid move, and couldn’t seem to pull his life back on track.

She’d welcomed him in a few minutes ago. Actually smiled as she opened the door, as if she were happy to see him. Him, the guy who got her pregnant and took off. Yeah, he was quite the catch.

He couldn’t make up for those days, but he was determined to get something right. She wanted him in the baby’s life. He had no idea what that entailed or the logistics of being with her and raising a kid. The baby wasn’t here yet and barely existed in his mind in any tangible sense. He knew absolutely nothing about little people, so he focused on what he did understand and care about: her.

“I want you to move into Shadow Hill.” No other thought had formed in his mind except that one. He’d become obsessed with the idea in a few short hours.

He’d laid out the plan to Declan. Declan being Declan, he immediately agreed. Beck didn’t take much prodding either. After laughing his ass off and launching into an impromptu birth control lecture that almost earned him a phone hang-up, Beck agreed Grace needed to be at the house and not in a motel in the middle of town. He also talked about rushing home to meet her because he had to see the woman who wrapped up his big brother.

The way Callen saw it, his brothers were enjoying his shitty luck a bit too much. One more comment about being an uncle and he’d start burying their possessions in some of those big holes in the yard.

“What did you just say?” Grace’s voice sounded small and a bit shaky.

He knew the feeling.

Dropping the curtain, he turned to face her. “You’ll be there and we can watch over you.”

She sat down on the edge of the bed and stared up at him. “Who is the ‘we’ in that sentence?”

Of all the places Grace could get caught up and confused, Callen didn’t think it would be on a pronoun. “Declan, Leah . . . me.”

“You know I’m pregnant, not a truant teenager.”

Clearly he had misstepped . . . again. He had no idea how or where. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Your offer is a bit—how do I put this?” She looked up at the ceiling. When she shot him a glance again, a new intensity seemed to burn within her. “Cold-blooded.”

“Okay, whoa.” He sat down next to her. Close enough for their thighs to touch, but not actually reaching out to hold her like he wanted to do. Not when she was so prickly and he was so clueless. “How did you get that?”

“Do you trust me not to steal things?”

He’d never accused her of anything of the sort, nor would he. He didn’t even get where this was coming from. “What?”

“The silverware. The furniture that’s not bolted down.”

The jumpiness hit him first. She was a great big bundle of energy. All feisty and looking for battle.

Made it tough to have a serious conversation with her, but he tried again. “Is this a hormone thing?”

She pointed at him. Right at the tip of his nose. “You would be wise not to say that again.”

“Noted.” He folded his palm around her finger and dragged their joint hands to his lap.

She sighed, long and dramatic, as if he’d dumped the world’s problems on her slim shoulders. “Why do you want me there?”

“So I can watch you.” Her rubbed her cold hand between his two warm ones. He loved the feel of her smooth skin and had to force his brain to stay in the conversation and not wander to the mattress underneath them.

“Watch me do what, eat breakfast?”

He laughed then, because the grumpy tone and sharp barbs finally got to him. “You’re in a hell of a mood.”

“Carrying a second person around in your belly will do that to you.”

That sobered him right back up. Here he was worried about living up to what she needed and overcoming the shitty-father example handed to him by Charlie, and she was just trying to get through the day. Her realistic approach shifted his priorities a bit. Instead of trying to force his mind to accept a baby—something he never expected to happen for him—he went into survival mode.

He tried brutal honesty, since that’s what he kept insisting he needed from her. “I need to know you’re okay. Being right there, in the house, will give me that . . . whatever. Information.”

She smiled as her hand caressed his cheek. “Callen.”

He must have said something right to get that reaction, but he’d be damned if he knew what. His insides were a jumble and his gut kept twisting. If she knew about his doubts and fears, how convinced he was that she should wake up and pick someone else—anyone else—to help her through this, it might scare her.

“You don’t trust me.” Her thumb traced his bottom lip. “You’ve made that really clear. Hell, you said it after we made love the other night.”

Guilt hammered his chest and head. Hit him everywhere that wasn’t numbed by the baby news.

“Not my smoothest move.” It was a vast understatement, but him loving her and wanting her as much as he did had him unbalanced back before he knew who she really was. After he learned the truth, he kept spinning and questioning his instincts and trying so hard to stop loving her even though that proved impossible.

“Gee, do you think?”

“I know you’ll take care of the baby, and I want . . .” Jesus, he had no idea what to say next. He had no idea what he wanted, except her, despite everything. The baby wasn’t a reality to him yet. And thinking about him or her only made his stomach ache in pure panic.

“You’re talking in half sentences here.”

“I don’t know, Grace. This is all new to me.” He should have held back and been a strong man or whatever, but truth was, he couldn’t process any of the news piled on him over the last few weeks, including this bit, not to mention seeing her again. “One second I think I can do this and the other fifty-nine I can barely stand up under the pressure of all the things that can go wrong.”

“You think I’m not scared?” She lifted his hand and pressed it against her chest.

The steady thump of her heartbeat echoed through him. “Are you?”

“We’re human. I’d wonder if we weren’t worried about screwing this up.” She shifted, getting even closer until her one leg almost crossed over his. “But somehow, like so many other fumbling parents before us, we’re going to get through this. You’re going to do great.”

“Not if I pass out.”

Caught up in the intimacy of the moment, he dragged her leg over his and turned her until she straddled him. This was a favorite position for everything. He could see the sparkle in her eyes up close and feel the heat rising off of her. This time was no different.

She made a little noise as she settled down on top of him. “I can’t really imagine you doing that.”

“I’m more worried about you.” His hands traveled over her shoulders and down her back.

“I’m fine.”

He wanted to kiss her. Roll her under him. Bring her body back to the brink where she begged for him to bring her release. But he needed to get this out first. Not that he even knew what he was saying. “I can’t control much right now, but I can make sure you’re safe and eating and sleeping and whatever else a pregnant woman needs.”

She slipped her hands around his neck, and her fingers plowed into his hair. “That’s sweet.”

Yeah, this position worked every time. Got him hot. Got her holding on to him.

“I bought a book.” He blurted the comment out, and had no idea why.

She’d been leaning in, her mouth hovering just above his, then she pulled back. “You did?”

“Declan seemed surprised, too. Apparently no one thinks I can read.”

She smacked her lips together, looking like she was trying to swallow a laugh. “A book on pregnancy? Did it feel weird paying for it?”

“No weirder than the one time I bought tampons for you.”

She shook her head. “Let’s go back a second.”

“To what?”

“Where will I be sleeping at Shadow Hill?” Her fingers massaged his skull.

His vision started to blur and he had to grab on to his last bit of control to keep from dragging her down on the mattress with him. “I’m not going to make you sleep on the porch, if that’s the concern.”

“I think you understand the question.”

Everything inside him stilled. “Where do you want to sleep?”

“With you.” She kissed his chin, then her mouth continued to his neck.

He swallowed hard, trying to drag in enough air to breathe, but his lungs seemed to shut down. All the blood rushed to his lower half, and his erection pressed against her.

Enough talking. His body needed action. “Any chance you want to practice right now?”

She laughed, and the sound vibrated against the base of his neck. “Subtle.”

“Or is sex a bad idea?” He had no clue. There was a chapter in that book on sex and pregnancy, but he’d barely gotten past the table of contents.

Just buying the book had been an admission his life was about to flip upside down. If he read anything about no sex he might lose it completely. Still, he wanted her safe, so he waited for an answer. Even one that might suck.

“Sex with you is never a bad idea.” She lifted her head and looked at him, and her eyes clouded with what he thought looked like passion.

He didn’t want to seem thick about this, but . . . “So, yes?”

“Yes.”

Then her mouth covered his. The heat hit him first, wild and burning. She touched his face and held him still while her lips crossed over his. Her hips shifted and he stifled back a groan, but he didn’t let her go. His hands toured her body, up the back of her shirt to touch bare skin.

The room spun as he turned, putting them on their sides on the mattress while their mouths locked in a kiss that tempted and scalded and had him desperate to get inside of her.

He reached for the buttons on her shirt, but she was on the move. Up on her knees, she straddled him again. Her thighs touched the sides of his waist as she loomed above him.

He loved this side of her, so refreshing and honest in what she needed from him. Confident in her body and her sensuality. It was the fucking sexiest thing ever.

As he watched, she stripped off her long-sleeve shirt. The cotton tee came next. Slipped it up and off her shoulders, leaving only her practical white bra. His gaze zoomed to her stomach and the small bump he saw there. If he hadn’t known her body so well, every inch and every delicious curve, he might not have noticed. She hadn’t gotten much bigger, though her waist did look thicker.

The changes intrigued him. When she took his hand and placed the palm flat on the smooth of her skin, the blood pumped harder into his erection. Seeing her, touching her, set off something primal inside him. A need to protect her. To be with her and only her.

He still didn’t get the baby or understand what he should feel other than stunned, but he knew how he felt about her. The same as always: hot and bothered and so attracted that he could barely see straight.

When her fingers went to his belt, his back came off the bed.

“Whoa, tiger.” She pushed him back down with a hand in the dead center of his chest. “I’m in charge.”

There was no way he would survive this. Not after the long dry spell without her and how fucking great the other night between them turned out to be. “What are you going to do with me?’

“Whatever I want.”

His zipper lowered and the fly of his jeans opened. She had his erection out and in her hand before he could form a coherent sentence. The touching did him in. No way could he talk now. Gurgle and babble, maybe.

“I missed you.” She scooted her body down further on his as her hand moved up and down on him.

She bent over to kiss his stomach and he wanted to rip his plaid shirt right off to give her skin. When he moved to do just that, she used her free hand to pin his arm against the bed.

Yeah, this was her show, and there was no way in hell he was putting the brakes on.

Her mouth traveled lower and her hair brushed over him. He had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from chanting her name. When her mouth closed over him, took him deep and sucked him hard, his head fell back into the mattress.

He wanted to take over and give her pleasure, but he couldn’t move. She had him trapped and was rubbing her body all over him. She talked to him but he had no idea what she said. He was lost in the rhythmic pumping of her hand and the touch of her lips over his cock.

Giving up the last of his resistance, he let his hands drop on the bed and stretched his arms above his head. He let himself experience every second. She ramped him up and drained him at the same time.

“I want to be inside you.” He forced the words out, surprised at how rough they sounded to his ears.

She lifted her head and glanced up his body. “Next time.”

Heat pulsed through him. His body tensed and his hand went into her hair. The sensual assault had him reeling and planning and waiting for the moment later when he could pull her on top of him and plunge inside.

Looked like his running days were over.