Second Chances (21 page)

Claira fought her own urges not to lean in and reach for a quick kiss. Pushing her warring emotions aside, she grabbed her books and purse from the car
then ran in to greet the twins and her other students for a fresh start to a new week.

Half a dozen
hang-up’s and six hours later she stepped out of her classroom and locked the door behind her, nearly jumping out of her skin when Grey’s hand landed on her shoulder. God she really had to get a grip. How was she going to convince them nothing was wrong when she couldn’t convince herself?

“Sorry,” Grey whispered. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Claira let out a ragged breath and shook off her rioting nerves as she took in his polished, yet rugged appearance. Wearing a pair of black jeans that melded to his strong, lean thighs, another deep-green button up that set off his sparkling eyes so well, she barely noticed the trickle of jet black hair that peeked out from the open collar. His presence was both comforting and alarming. She knew he’d never harm her, felt incredibly safe with him—not to mention aroused—but he saw too much and made her feel too many conflicting emotions. And he was a stubborn
ass.

“Ready to go?”
He asked, his hand gently laying claim on her lower back. She felt the heat from his touch radiate through the thin material of her shirt.

She straightened her shoulders and shook her head. “
You just don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

Grey’s
lips quirked up into a mischievous grin and one brow arched up to match the sentiment behind his words. “You just now figuring that out?”

“Jackass,” she whispered as she fell into step next to him.

“Now you’re getting closer,” he chuckled and ushered her down the long, dim hallway toward the exit.

“Miss Robbins! Oh, Miss Robbins! This was left for you….Oh.
”

Claira cringed when she’d heard the stuffy, aristocratic voice calling her name through the halls. When Grey turned her to face the man that had forever ruined the sound of her new name
, she had to cover her mouth to keep the laugh from bubbling out uninvited. The sour puss look on Principal Dawes’ face as he heel-toed it down the hall after them was priceless. God, you could almost hear the squeak from the stick up his butt when he walked.

“Mr. McLendon, how nice to see you.”
Principal Dawes’ surprised and confused expression never left Claira as he extended a hand to Grey. “Is everything ok with our Miss Robbins?”

Grey held back a groan as he reached for the man’s limp wristed attempt at a greeting.
Not yours, asshole.
“You’ll have to ask her.” He really didn’t like the sniveling, little bug and he’d be damned if he’d let him belittle her again.

Dawes ignored
the retort and with a snarl he handed Claira a legal sized envelope. “This was left at the office for you today, Miss Robbins. In the future, we’d appreciate if you restrict your personal deliveries to your home.”

Grey’s hand
s twitched with the need to bend the little prick over and shove his size thirteen boot up the guy’s tight ass. He grabbed the envelope from Claira’s hand and tucked it under his arm. “I had that sent here and I had expected it to be delivered to her before now. My time is in short supply, Mr. Dawes. I’d expected her to have my schedule available for review before our meeting this afternoon.”

“Meeting?”
Dawes nearly choked on his question, his eyes fixed on the envelope.

Grey crossed his arms over his chest and lean
ed toward the little shit, causing him to take a step back. He knew he was being a dick but he didn’t care. “
Miz.
Robbins will be tutoring my sons this summer. I’ll expect your cooperation in the future if the need should arise.”

“Of course,” Dawes nodded aggressively, looking more like
a spring-challenged bobble head. He turned a panicked smile to Claira. “Anything you need, Miss Robbins, you just let me know.” With that he turned and almost ran back down the hall toward his office.

Claira’s heart pumped fiercely
as it expanded against her chest. No one had ever stood up for her the way Grey had just done, except for Stephan. She looked up at him, studying his hard expression as he stared after Principal Dawes as if he wanted to chase him down and rip him to shreds.
Like he’s the bug to be squashed instead of you.

Grey was the most stubborn, mercurial, sometimes infuriating, tender hearted and pr
otective man she’d ever known, and all of a sudden she found herself in the safe fold of his protectiveness instead of being on the outside. It was a heady feeling; an honor, really. Her insides fluttered with mixed emotions…again. Was he really trying to protect her? Why? Why did he walk away from her at the coffee shop? Why did he look at her like he could eat her alive one minute and then like he wanted to tie her to the bumper of his truck and take off down the road the next? Why…? Just….why? She was so confused. How was she supposed to know which way was up with him? She was nowhere near close to figuring any of those things out when he ushered her out into the sunbathed parking lot and she got her first glimpse of her car, and all four flat tires.

How? Just….how?
Claira stood dumbstruck in the middle of the school parking lot starring at her crippled car. Grey was pacing around, talking to someone on his cell phone. It wasn’t until she heard the tail end of a snarl that she realized who he was talking to.

“I don’
t give a damn if
all
your men are up on
my
ridge inspecting
my
herd! I don’t care if you have to deputize half the goddamn county. Get someone out here to inspect her car, now! And Sheriff, I want someone at her house before we get there! Harvest Lane. Yeah, ten minutes, fifteen tops.”

With another growl he shoved his phone into his front pocket and marched toward her, pulling her to his truck. “Where are we going? I have to wait for the police!” She tried to turn back to her poor little car but Grey kept a tight hold on her as he opened his pas
senger door. As if she was no more than a sack of potatoes without a mind or will of her own, he picked her up by the waist and deposited her onto the front seat. When he tried to close the door, still not having said a single word to her, she jammed her foot against the panel and pushed it back open. “Grey, what are you doing? I can’t just leave.”

Grey paused and
checked his innate need to barrel over her. He let out a frustrated breath and stepped up to her, settling himself between her thighs as much as her long skirt would allow.
Big mistake.
The feel of her wrapped around him, her intoxicating scent and worried expression, along with the sheer terror that ran through his veins at what he’d seen in the envelope nearly brought him to his knees.

“Claira, baby, we need to get you home. The
Sheriff will take care of your car.” He didn’t want to tell her about the pictures until he had her safely tucked away at the ranch. He didn’t want her to see them at all. He could feel the worry and confusion, mingled with weariness rolling off her in waves. Seeing that vial filth would only make it worse. “I’m sorry about this morning,” he sighed, rubbing his hands reassuringly on the tops of her thighs.

After he’d left her sitting in the diner that morning, he’d kicked himself down the street, not having a clue where he was going or why he’d left. No, he knew why he’d left. It was the same fucked up reason everything else in his life was a mess. Sara
h. Never once, in the twenty four years he’d known her, not even in the three of those years they’d been married, had she overwhelmed him the way Claira had with just one kiss. Everything inside him ached for Claira in a way that was completely unfair to the memory of his wife. It wasn’t bad enough that she’d died because of him. No. Now it seemed his traitorous body was hell bent to destroy the very essence of what she meant to him. How could he be more attracted to someone, need someone, love the taste and the feel of someone more than he ever had his own wife?

He’d called Mason, told him briefly about what had happened at the restaurant and then asked him to pick him up at the cemetery.
It had been nearly a year since he’d gone to see her. He’d all but begged and pleaded for answers but none came. No answers ever came.

Grey felt himself changing inside while he
glared at the words scripted across the top of the polished granite stone that stood in front of him.

Our hearts beat as one, for one.
Always.

He’d always known he and his brother’s would share a wife, and that person had always been Sarah. As far back as he could remember she’d always been theirs. They could never love separately. It just wasn’t who they were. Was it possible for the three of them to love two different
women in such different ways, together, without losing Sarah completely?

By the time Mason pulled up along the curb and got out of his truck he’
d just about made himself sick trying to reconcile his feelings for Claira against those he’d had for Sarah.

Mason didn’t say a word when he’d walked passed him, his hands tucked into his jean pockets as he bent down and brushed a kiss over the top of Sarah’s headstone. A moment later he’d slapped Grey on the shoulder and nudged him toward his truck. When they were both seated inside the silent cab Grey looked over and noticed the confident expression on his face.

“You know how fucked up I am right now
, right?”

Mason
had smiled and started the truck. He’d paused, his hand on the gear shift, and looked over at him with those soulful eyes that seemed to see right through him. “Yep,” he’d nodded and threw the truck into drive. “But I know you, Grey. You’re as stubborn as the day is long but you’re not a coward. You’ll get it all figured out soon enough.”

Now, standing in the parking lot with a scared and frantic Claira, somewhere deep inside he knew things would never be the same. He had to get her home safe and keep her that way. At least until he could work through his fucked up thoughts.

“
I have a lot of things I’m trying to work out in my head, Claira. I need to…I need to talk to you, about a lot of things, but I need for you to trust me. Just for a little while. Can you do that?”

She
did trust him. Strange, but there it was. He was so different from Matt and Mason, yet similar, almost an exact mix of the two, with a twist of uncommon dominance and darkness added into the mix. She nodded wordlessly and turned in her seat to allow Grey to close the door.

When Grey slid into the driver’s seat and closed the door, he reached over and wrapped his long arm around Claira’s waist and pulled her across the bench seat until she was snu
ggled up beside him. With a strained smile and a wink he started the truck and pulled away from the school.

A throng of neighbors, a fire engine an
d two Sheriff’s deputy cars filled her little yard when they pulled alongside her driveway. Claira stiffened against him as he shut off the engine and opened the driver’s door. Benton came rushing down the front steps, the Sheriff in tow. “Stay here,” he patted Claira’s thigh and stepped out of the truck. Claira leaned forward to watch as their cousin Frank pulled up and ran over to join them.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod
!
He’d found her. It was starting all over again. She didn’t want to believe it. It was supposed to be over. How could he have gotten to her this quickly? The phone calls, the tires, and now her house was on fire? Even through the trembling and paralyzing fear, Claira sensed something was off. If this was Lucian, there would be no house left. Flat tires and prank calls weren’t his style. It had to be him, didn’t it? No one else knew enough about her to hate her this much. Had she run over something on the way to work? She was so distracted by Grey’s frustrating behavior and the prank calls she might not have noticed. Could this just be a coincidence? She hadn’t ironed anything. She hadn’t left the coffee pot on, because there wasn’t one to leave on. God, would this day ever end?

Grey
ambled back to the truck and offered his hand to help her out. He stopped her as she reached the edge of the seat, his arms bracketing her thighs on the seat. His piercing green eyes held nothing but concern as he tightened his embrace. “Looks like my brothers crossed a wire installing the water heater.”

“
Grey, I’m telling you they didn’t…”

“Not now!” Grey turned and shouted over his shoulder at his cousin Frank, the owner of her now charred
, little rental. When Frank stifled a grunt, Grey turned and faced Claira again. “The neighbors called it in before it got too bad, but the back half of the place is a total loss. We can salvage a few things from your room and office but it will take weeks to clean the place up and make it livable again. Looks like you’ll be moving in with us after all.” Grey couldn’t help but grin at the irony of the whole damn mess. Sure, his brothers were idiots, but it saved him a hell of a fight to get her to where she should have been in the first place. Their home.

“I…” Ugh, Claira felt like screaming, crying, yelling. Anything but the wordless nod she gave Grey. What else could she do? She didn’t know anyone else she could stay with. There wasn’t a hotel for fifty miles and the only bed and breakfast in town was booked through the fall. She knew because she’d checked there when she first arrived in town.
Without a car, or any other friends, she didn’t have a choice. That was what had chaffed her the most. She’d come all this way, literally through the fires of hell to gain her freedom, and she still didn’t have any more choices than she ever had before. What a mess.