Second Chances (19 page)

From his hidden position inside the dar
k car, he watched as the oldest of McLendon brothers exited the vehicle and crept into the darkness toward her house. He was confident they hadn’t seen him, nor had they been suspicious of his car. He shook his head in near disgust. People could be so ignorant of their surroundings. He wasn’t complaining. It only made his job easier.

Two subtle movements
on either side of the street caught Grant’s attention. Within a millisecond, he dismissed the prowling tabby and zeroed in on the dark form that approached the front steps of his target’s home. Motionless, he watched as Grey McLendon took a seat in one of the two rockers on the front porch, the glow from the overhead light falling across his rugged features. “Looks like Miss Robbins has her own private security,” he mumbled quietly to himself as he settled back into his reclined seat and watched Grey McLendon do the same in the rocker.

Unable to start the car and pull away without attracting unwanted attention, h
e resigned to get comfortable for the next few hours, glad that he’d just taken a piss when the McLendon brothers pulled up. He wondered again why he’d taken this job in the first place. Goddamn his mentor for calling in that last chip. He owed him one, so he’d damn sure pay up, but he sure as hell didn’t have to like it. He cringed at the word
owe
. Hated the act of it even more. Thank fuck this was the last favor he
owed
anyone. He’d sworn off private contracts a long time ago. Hell, he was tired of the legit ones, too, truth be known. He was just tired, period.

He had enough money to buy his own private island and retire in comfortable silence, not a soul around he’d have to talk to and placate with fairytales of what they thought real life was. Most people cocooned themselves in white picket fences and golden retrievers, in total denial at what a shithole the world around them had become. None of them knew how the world really worked, nor did they give a shit as long as people like him didn’t knock on their door. His fists tightened and relaxed repeatedly. Yeah, he really needed a break. That’s exactly what he intended to do when this cluster fuck was over. He’d pick one of his many aliases, start over one final time, away from all the gore and bullshit.

“It’s goin
g to be a long night,” Grey groaned as he propped his Stetson over his face and slouched down in the rickety, old rocker that was about two sizes too small for his large frame. He didn’t really care as long as Claira was safe. And short of dragging her back to Falcon Ridge or terrifying the poor woman in the middle of the night, this was the only option he had. He’d be damned if he was going to carry on like this every night. He would straighten her out tomorrow after she’d gotten some rest.

Claira’s heart jumped out of her chest and her life flashed before her eyes when she stepped out into the pre-dawn air and saw the dark figure out of the corner of her eye. As she turned to run she caught the familiar profile and let out a startled whimper. “Mr. McLendon? What…what are you doing here?”

Grey pried hi
s numb and aching body from the miniature torture rack he’d all but slept in for the last five hours and met Clara’s startled gaze with his own. “We need to talk. And call me Grey.”

“How long have you been out here?” Claira looked out and her brow furrowed in confusion when she didn’t see any of the McLendon’s trucks parked in her driveway. “How did you get here?”

Grey pulled off his Stetson and turned it in his hands a few times before he scrubbed a hand over his stubble covered jaw and motioned toward the door Claira still held half ajar. “Got any coffee?”

She
tried to ignore the butterflies that had replaced the nauseating panic knotting her stomach. He was so ruggedly handsome, even when he was half asleep on his feet. His dark hair was mussed, his green eyes languid and unfocused, his movements slow and a little stiff. He was adorable, like a big, grumpy teddy bear. If she could only find out why he was here she might feel a little sorry for him. “No,” She shook her head and closed the door behind her. “Coffee maker’s broken. I hadn’t had time to get a new one since…” Claira paused, her cheeks reddening with the thought of what she’d put them through the past weekend. What she’d done with his brothers.
What is he doing here?

“Do you always leave t
his early for work?” Grey asked, his hat still clutched in his hand.

“No. I...It was late when Mason dropped me off. I haven’t done any le
sson plans for the week so I’m going in early to catch up.”

“Look, Claira,” Grey’s voice came out a little scratchy after sitting in the night air for the past few hours. He cleared his throat, stalling a little longer. Now that he’
d had time to calm down, asking Claira to come home with him was a little more difficult than he’d expected. He was still adamant about her not staying there alone, but common sense had won out over anger sometime during the night. He knew he couldn’t force her to go. God, how did he talk to her? It had been a really long time since he’d been interested in a woman, much less asked one out for coffee. He’d really never had those awkward dating scenes with Sarah. He watched as she turned the key, locking the two deadbolts, and then cleared his throat again. “Can we go get some coffee?”

Claira paused and stared at him for a moment. She realized that in his disheveled state he wasn’t near as intimidating. She almost felt comfortable enough to tease him.
Almost. “Grey? Why are you here?” She asked again, and then realized with him looking on she couldn’t arm her extra security measures without him asking questions. She desperately needed him to leave.

“As I said, we need to talk.” Grey s
hoved a hand through his mass of raven hair, making the spikey mess a complete and adorable disaster. When he caught her looking at him he quickly shoved his hat onto his head to cover it. “It’s about what happened Saturday and I’d like for us to be coherent and sitting down when we talk about it.”

“
Saturday?” Claira shook her head, understanding and embarrassment colliding like two freight trains in her mind. “It was a misunderstanding, Mr. McLen…Grey. I’m sorry I intruded on your family, with your brothers. I…It won’t happen again. I was just…I shouldn’t have gotten involved with my student’s parents and I…”

“Miss
Robbins. Claira. Will you just shut up and listen for a minute?”

Claira’s
last words derailed from her tongue when she nearly choked at the grouchy rebuke. She desperately tried to hide her shock and indignation, but with her cheeks flaming hot she knew she’d failed.

Grey grumbled a curse and took a stride toward her. When she tensed and flinched he paused. “I’m sorry. I’ve normally had half a dozen cups of coffee before now. I’m a little grouchy,
and beat up but I didn’t mean to startle or upset you.”

“A
little
grouchy?” Claira arched a brow and watched as he struggled to rein in his obvious inner grump. She was a
little
grouchy without her caffeine. He was beginning to resemble a completely different adjective.

“Please, can we just go grab a fresh cup at the diner
on Main? I’ll pay and promise not to growl at you again if you’ll just get me there.”

Claira chuckled. Before she knew it she’d nodded her agreement, but then felt a moments panic when she realized she’d not be able to continue her security ritual before she left. She didn’t have long to mourn the loss
before Grey grabbed her keys from her hand and hastily drug her down the front steps to her car. “I’ll drive.” He said as he opened her door and waited for her to get in.

“But…”

He ignored her protest and nudged her in.

“Impatient, much?”
She asked, sliding in and pulling her legs inside.

“Always
,” Grey smirked then closed the passenger door and ran around to the driver’s side. She liked his dimpled smile, she decided, even if it didn’t hide how difficult it was for him to give it at the moment.

It took three tries before he finally gave up and squatted between the open door and the driver’s seat and
hung his head in defeat, blowing out a frustrated breath with a muted curse. “Claira, baby, where is the lever to move the seat back?”

Claira couldn’
t hold back the snort. Seeing a man the size of a small horse trying to squeeze himself into her tiny car was by far the funniest thing she’d ever seen. “It’s broken,” she snorted again, covering her smile with her hand.

Grey was nearly at his breaking point. Lack of sleep, lack of coffee and the innate need to protect Claira from some unknown lunatic while battling his own inner turmoil over his sudden
feelings
for her had all begun to take their toll. Oh, and let’s not forget the constant prick in his jeans. His lips pursed together to keep the curses from flying, he nodded to Claira and rose quickly, moving to the passenger side as she exited and took the driver’s seat. Reaching down, Grey slid the passenger seat back as far as it would go—which wasn’t near far enough—and then folded himself into the still overly cramped space. When he pulled the door closed, his knees were crammed against the dash, his thighs nearly pressing against his chest and his shoulders were bunched together between Claira’s seat and the passenger door. He felt like he was the main attraction in a clown car at a rodeo.

“Not one word,” he warned when he caught Claira watching him, still choking back a train of giggles.
Claira snorted again when his face scrunched up as he tried to turn and grab his seatbelt. It was no use. “They’ll need the Jaws of Life to pry me out of this death trap you call a car, even if we don’t crash.”

Claira shook her head and started the car,
trying her best not to look at Grey as she pulled onto her quiet, still dark street and headed toward Main Street. “Don’t pick on my little car,” she patted the dash as if it were a pet. “It’s a smart, little car.”

Grey looked at her as if she’d completely lost her senses. “Honey, this is the
stupidest
car I have ever laid eyes on in my entire life. Josiah was wrong,” he said as he twisted, grunted and jerked in his seat, already losing feeling in his feet. “There isn’t enough damn room left in this damn thing for a goddamn hamster.”

***********************

Grant Kendal watched carefully as the small car rolled away from him and disappeared around the corner.
Stupid
car
. As he swept silently across her lawn and up the front steps, he noticed that Miss Robbins hadn’t engaged her extra efforts at securing her home, not that they mattered much to him. Before the first sliver of the sun’s rays arched across the sky, he was inside Claira’s home, alarm disengaged and door bolted behind him. With her having finally hooked up with the McLendon’s, it was time to put phase two of his plan into action.

*****************************

Grey leaned over his cup and inhaled the fresh, life-saving aroma. His eyes opened and looked beyond the rim of his cup to notice Claira was doing the same. When her chocolate eyes met his he grinned, recognizing the same desperation for caffeine. Neither spoke a word until the second cup was delivered by an overly chipper waitress, earning herself a disgusted eye roll from Claira and a warning growl from Grey when she tried to take his empty cup. “Just fill it up and leave it,” he ordered.

Feeling as if her brain was slowly awakening from the familiar fog, Claira took in a deep breath
. A small smile pulled at the corner of her lips.

“You look tired,” Grey said b
efore he took another long sip, his deep, rumbling voice rolling over her like a heat wave.

Claira blanched. “Is that what you dragged me her
e to talk about?”

Shit.
Grey shook his head and cleared his throat. “No, that came out wrong. You look beautiful, but also weary. Who are you running from?”

Claira’s face paled
at the sudden and unexpected change in subject. Her gaze dropped to her cup. How does he know? “Nothing, no one,” she lied automatically. It didn’t matter that she felt guilty lying to him. She couldn’t tell anyone the truth anyway.

“If that’s the way you want to play it,” Grey g
rumbled and sat back in the booth seat. He studied her for a few moments and then leaned his elbows on the edge of the table, his hard gaze boring into her. “Tell me or don’t tell me, it’s your choice, but you’re not staying in that house alone. You can come to the ranch or I can move in until whatever is going on with you is over, but make no mistake, you don’t have any other choices than that.”

“I can’t stay at your house!” Claira screeched, drawing the attention
and scowls of other nearby caffeine addicts. Her glance darted around the small café and then back to Grey as she steeled her posture and lowered her voice. “That’s ridiculous! I don’t need a babysitter. I’m perfectly fine.” When Grey didn’t respond, only giving her what she was coming to know as his bully stare, Claira tried another approach. “I can’t stay there while I’m teaching your children. It’s inappropriate and unprofessional!”

“Fine,” Grey nodded. “I’ll pack
a bag and pick you up after school is released. What time do you leave?”