Chapter Six
Grace could feel every beat of her heart the entire time Alicia drove toward home. Her friend peppered her with questions she didn’t want to think about.
“Every time you shrug instead of answer,” Alicia pulled onto her quiet street, “I’m inventing answers. It would be easier if you just spoke up.”
“I don’t have any answers.”
“That would be a lot easier to believe if that man wasn’t a sexy six-foot-something built like a mountain.”
Her heartbeat thumped, thumped, thumped its agreement.
Alicia did a doubletake and cackled. “Some answers you don’t have to say out loud, and that face, Grace, was an answer as loud and clear as you’ve ever given.”
“Not true.”
She laughed again and pulled into her driveway. Her beautiful home had been a refuge over the years. Now Grace ran to it for different reasons the second Alicia came to a stop.
“Running inside won’t make him less—”
Grace shut the door before she heard the rest of what Alicia said, but her mind filled in the blank with “good-looking.” Actually, now she was lying to herself.
Calling him good-looking was like calling a hot fudge sundae with all the toppings a little treat.
He’d always been the hero she’d imagined, and there he was.
Good-looking to another level, even after she’d maced him.
And, God, she felt like a horrible person for noticing him like that when he had just learned she lied and was alive.
Grace didn’t know what to do inside Alicia’s house. She wanted to hide until she had total control over her reaction to him. A totally justifiable reaction. He’d ripped his shirt off after she’d maced him, and holy mother of muscles, Callum Hale was ripped.
Not in a ’roided up, scary way, but in that way a man could send shivers straight to a woman’s nether regions simply by walking into a room. She hated how he had always done that to her. She hated even more that he’d never noticed that she thought he walked on water.
The biggest problem with Callum and his good looks and protective bossiness was that she had temporarily forgotten about Dominic. Her ex was always at the back of her mind, but she’d been living like this for years.
She hadn’t seen Callum for just as long. The man could still block everything else from her mind.
Alicia followed Grace inside, laughing as though she could read her mind. “You can’t run from a man like that.”
“Just giving myself space.” She kicked off her shoes and tucked herself into an accent chair, wishing to God she could shut herself in a freezer. “And obviously, I’m not running. I said he could come here.”
Alicia hummed and pushed her glasses up her nose. “Uh-huh. Sure.”
“Don’t look at me like that.” Grace wrapped her arms around her shins, glad to be in Alicia’s charming house that was as sweet and comforting as a homemade pie. She hugged herself tighter and waited for the invisible security blanket that was this living room to cloak her from the world.
Alicia dismissed that with a “we’ll see” look. “I’ll make tea.”
Late afternoon light flooded through the gauzy, draped windows. The living room’s cottagecore décor soothed Grace’s soul with its wallpaper that could have been in a dollhouse. Houseplants sat in every nook and cranny where books didn’t take up residence.
There were so many books, and they always shifted and changed, as Alicia picked up and read whatever was within arm’s reach. From the moment Alicia had opened her home, it was one of the safest places Grace recalled being in.
And now Callum was knocking on the door. The dogs barked, and he let himself in before Alicia reached the door.
“Take a nap,” Alicia said to Argos, the German shepherd, and Toto, the Corgi.
Both dogs obediently stood down and wandered away.
Grace could hardly believe he was in her sanctuary. His gaze darted around the space as if he couldn’t figure out where to rest his eyes. “Nice place.”
“Have a seat,” Alicia called as she walked back to the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable.”
He eyed the furniture. To be fair, it wasn’t just the wallpaper that looked like it should be in a dollhouse.
The furniture was delicate and highly customized.
The cushions were silk-covered, embroidered, or wrapped in handwoven tapestries.
The furniture, carved with custom inlays and intricate designs, brought whimsical touches into the cheerful room.
Callum eyed each piece as if deciding where he’d do the least damage.
He actually loomed over the living room. His jawline could cut glass, and sinewy muscle stretched tight over his forearms. This Callum Hale wasn’t the one she’d last seen at her parents’ house. “Just sit down. You’re not going to break anything.”
His eyebrow crooked as if he didn’t believe her, but carefully lowered himself onto the couch.
Sherlock, Alicia’s inquisitive cat who never approved of guests, hopped onto the coffee table and locked his green eyes on Callum like he was a danger that needed to be dragged out.
He lifted his hand to stroke its orange-and-white fur.
“I wouldn’t do that—”
Sherlock had no problem speaking up for himself.
Callum snatched his hand from the hissing cat. “Regal little fucker, isn’t she?”
“He,” Grace corrected. “His name is Sherlock. Well, originally Purrlock Holmes, but he’s too dignified for a punny name. Of all the alarm and early warning systems I’ve come across over the years, Sherlock has been the most cuddly and reliable.”
His eyebrow crept up as he looked dubiously at the cat. “There are far better security options out there. I could recommend—”
Alicia tsked as she walked in with a tray of iced tea and her dogs by her side. “It’s not your life, and you’re not the one who had to live in hiding. You don’t get to Monday-morning quarterback her choices.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked as he eyed the dogs. “There are personal protection options more dependable than a friend’s pets.”
“You work in the personal protection business,” Alicia pointed out. “That’s what you’re paid to say.”
The personal protection business. That wasn’t a far stretch from the Army, but still another world entirely where he and Hayden lived and breathed with insurgents and roadside bombs. Grace wanted to ask him about it. Later, maybe, when she could pivot his attention from her problems.
He continued studying Argos and Toto, frowning at Grace’s security decisions.
There were things she could have done differently, but the legal system that was supposed to have upheld the law always fell prey to Dominic’s moves.
His release was just another piece of proof that her ex-husband would always have the upper hand.
He blew out his breath. “I’m only suggesting a better option than dogs.”
“You don’t know my babies,” Alicia said.
Argos and Toto flanked her as she set the tray on the coffee table and shooed Sherlock away.
“And before you walk in here, making assumptions and judging what you don’t know, why don’t you keep your mouth shut, Mr. Big Muscles, and listen to what Grace has to say? ”
Inwardly she collapsed. Exhaustion rolled through her body.
Memories ached, and trauma ricocheted. She’d already said more than she wanted to, but explaining the decisions she had made and the ordeal that Dominic had dished out over their years of marriage wasn’t Alicia’s responsibility.
“I’ve already shared most of everything with him. ”
“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” he disagreed.
Whatever she said to him would make its way back to her brother, and Hayden would have covered her in bubble wrap and never let her live her life.
She’d determined long ago that a life-in-hiding was better than a life in a fishbowl where Dominic could find her.
There had always been a balancing act between being scared, staying tucked off the grid, and letting her big brother bury her under an avalanche of protection.
Callum cleared his throat.
Alicia shoved a glass of iced tea into his hand. “It’s sweet. But if you need more,” she gestured to the tray with simple syrup and sliced lemons, “doctor it up.”
“Thanks.”
Alicia stared at him until he took a drink. That was probably her way of giving Grace more time to organize her thoughts.
Finally, under Alicia’s unflinching study, he got the message and sipped. “It’s great. Thanks.”
“Coaster.” Alicia tilted her head toward the hand-tatted doily coasters next to the tray, then signaled for her dogs to sit next to Grace.
Argos and Toto took their places on either side of her chair and folded themselves to face Callum and Alicia. They pinned their sharp gazes on Callum as if he were the boogeyman come to harm their home.
“Stay,” Alicia commanded.
They didn’t move a muscle. The dogs had hearts of gold and more smarts than she’d ever come across. Grace scratched behind Toto’s ear.
Callum assessed their hyperfocus and slowly set his glass on the coaster. “They look like a friendly bunch.”
Alicia added a slice of lemon to her tea. “They are to my friends.”
“Maybe we’ll be buddies by the end of the night.”
“Maybe,” Alicia said doubtfully. “Grace?”
“What more am I supposed to say?” The shock of seeing him—of macing him—had faded, and she was even readjusting to the way he made her insides spin.
Good thing she had a handle on that. He’d barely acted as if he’d known she was alive for most of her life.
All the while, she’d been very aware of him.
If this had been any other situation, she might have dreamed that he could be her white knight.
But nothing and no one could outrun Dominic Marino.
“I’m safe here, Callum. What do you need to know so that you don’t start a five-alarm panic with my brother? ”
He snorted. “Think you did that all by yourself.”
Argos rumbled with a quiet growl.
“Easy.” Grace petted his head.