Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
GRACE
“Can I help?” I ask softly as I pad into the kitchen.
Luke turns, his eyes dark and intense as they rake over me from head to toe.
It makes me feel exposed, and I find myself hitching up the sweatpants that keep sliding down my hips and readjusting his shirt that is hanging off my one shoulder. For years, I've imagined the moment I’d meet Jason's best friend. Everyone in my family has heard all about the legendary Luke Mackenzie. I had a vivid picture in my mind of who he was, but nothing could have prepared me for the reality of him in the flesh.
“Sit,” he grunts, gesturing to a stool at the kitchen island. “The food will be ready in a minute.”
Obeying, I come closer and sit down on the edge of the seat, my bare toes brushing against the cool wood floor as I watch him move around his kitchen.
For such a big man, he seems to be incredibly graceful. I find myself smiling, thinking he’s exactly as Jason described him.
“So…” I start, desperate to hear his gravelly voice again, “you served with Jason?”
Luke’s back is to me, but I can see him nod as he pulls bowls from a cupboard. “Afghanistan. Two tours.”
“He talks about you all the time,” I admit, my cheeks warming just thinking about all the times I’ve pestered Jason to tell me more stories about Luke. “He says you're the best man he knows.”
Luke snorts. “Your brother's got a selective memory.”
Before I can ask him what that’s supposed to mean, the microwave beeps and he pulls out a steaming container of what looks like a thick beef stew. He carefully spoons it into the matching bowls in front of him, then adds a spoon and turns, sliding it across the bar to me. “Eat,” he commands.
My nipples harden, something about his order turning me on, and I can tell he notices. Trying to ignore my body’s reaction, I dip my spoon into the stew and start to eat.
Luke grunts in response before leaning against the counter and starting in on his own food. “So,” he says after a few minutes of silence, “want to tell me about this stalker?”
I flinch, my spoon clattering against the side of the bowl. “Not really,” I admit.
Luke's jaw tightens. “Gracie, I can't protect you if I don't know what I'm dealing with.”
“It's Grace,” I correct him, even though I secretly love the way 'Gracie' sounds on his lips. “And I don't need protecting. I just need... time—for the police to do their job.”
Luke's laugh is dark, humorless. “Sweetheart, if the police could do their job, you wouldn't be here.”
I open my mouth to argue, but the words die on my tongue. He's right, of course. If I really believed the police could handle Derek, I wouldn't be hiding out here in North Carolina.
“His name is Derek,” I say quietly, staring into my half-empty bowl. “He was a regular at Sweeties Cakes. That’s the bakery I work at in Kentucky,” I explain stupidly. “Before I got the restraining order, he came in every morning for a coffee and a muffin. He’d flirt a little, but he seemed harmless.” I risk a glance up at Luke. His face is impassive, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, and I don’t miss the way his fingers are gripping the edge of the counter. I have a feeling this is what Jason meant when he’d talk about Luke's intensity in the field.
“Then he started bringing in gifts. Expensive stuff. It’s against store policy to take stuff from customers, which I kept telling him. He wouldn’t listen, of course. That was weird enough, but as you’d expect, it got even worse. He’d be waiting for me after my shifts, wanting to walk me to my car. I tried to gently let him down because he wasn’t the man I was interested in…” I freeze, realizing what I’ve almost blabbed.
“Who were you interested in?” Luke growls, the sound sending shivers down my spine.
I shake my head. “Uh… that’s not really important,” I say, bypassing his question.
“Right.” His eyes narrow.
“Anyhow, somehow, he figured out where I lived and started showing up at my apartment. He’d leave messages on my car, my door. Hundreds of them and each one was more aggressive than the last. He was getting frustrated that I was ignoring him, is what the police said. Even with everything he’d done, they said they couldn't do anything unless he actually threatened me.”
“Fucking useless,” Luke mutters.
“Yeah,” I agree. “Last week was the breaking point when I came home and found him in my apartment. He'd broken in and was just... sitting there on my couch, like he belonged there.” I shudder at the memory. “That's when Jason insisted I get out of Kentucky.”
Luke is around the island in an instant, his big hands cupping my face. “Did he touch you?” he demands, his eyes blazing.
I shake my head, my heart pounding at his proximity. “N-no,” I stutter. “I ran next door to my neighbor’s apartment and called my brother. He arranged for me to go to our aunt’s, but after Derek showed up there too, he sent me here.”
“And here you are,” he says, his thumbs brushing gently across my cheeks.
For a moment, with the way he’s looking at me, I think he might kiss me. Part of me wants him to, even though we've technically only just met in person.
Before I’m ready, he clears his throat and takes a step back, taking the warmth of his hands with him, and just like that, the spell between us is broken. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have—” he shakes his head. “You're safe here with me, Gracie. I promise.”
“Grace,” I remind him again, but there's no heat behind it this time.
Luke's lips quirk in what might be his version of a smile. “Right. Grace.” He glances at the clock on the microwave. “It's late. We should get some sleep.”
I nod, suddenly realizing how exhausted I really am. After the events of the last few weeks and the long drive, it all comes crashing down on me at once, and I feel my body sway.
“Easy there, sweetheart,” Luke says as his hand shoots out to steady me.
I want to protest that I'm fine, that I don't need his help, but I'm too tired to argue. I let him guide me down a short hallway to a bedroom. It's like the rest of the cabin, minimal and functional, but at least the bed looks comfortable.
“This is your room,” I realize, looking up at Luke.
He shrugs. “I'll take the couch.”
“Luke, no. I can't put you out of your bed. I'll sleep on the couch.”
His eyes narrow. “Not a chance in hell, Gracie. You take the bed. I'm not arguing about this.”
There's a finality in his tone that brooks no argument, and again, it excites me, but this time, I'm too exhausted to examine exactly what that means. “Okay,” I concede. “Thank you.”
Luke nods, his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture is so tender, so at odds with his growly demeanor. “Get some rest,” he says softly. “I'll be right outside if you need anything.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
Luke lingers for a moment longer, his eyes searching my face for... something, and then suddenly, he turns and leaves, closing the door behind him.
Holy shit, he’s intense, I mime as I collapse onto the bed and bury my face in his pillow. I breathe in his scent and almost moan at how delicious it smells. It’s comforting in a way I hadn’t expected.
Pushing everything out of my mind, I reach for the quilt at the foot of the bed and pull it over me. My eyes close instantly.
Heaven.
As I drift off to sleep, my last thought is of Luke's eyes, dark and full of promise, and the warmth of his hands on my skin.
I wake with a start, a scream tearing from my throat. “NO!”
My eyes blink rapidly against the darkness as I try to gain my bearings. My hand drops onto the bed beside me and my heart starts to race. This isn’t my bed. My mind is racing, trying to retrace my steps and put the pieces together, when suddenly everything comes rushing back. Derek, the threats, Luke.
Luke.
As if summoned by my devil himself, the bedroom door bursts open, and Luke fills the doorway. “Gracie!” he shouts as he scans the room with his gun raised and his eyes are wild. “Fuck,” he breathes, lowering his weapon. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head, tears streaming down my face. “It was Derek,” I choke out. “He was here, he was going to?—”
Luke is at my side before I could even finish the words, his gun abandoned on the nightstand as he gathers me like a child into his arms. “Shh, baby, it's okay,” he murmurs, his hand stroking my hair. “I’ve got you.”
I cling to him, burying my face in his chest. “I'm sorry,” I whisper. “I didn't mean to wake you.”
“Don't apologize,” he says firmly. “I told you, I'm here if you need me. Always.”
I pull back slightly, looking up at him. In the sliver of light filtering through the curtains, I can see the concern on his face. Without thinking, I reach up and trace the line of his jaw with my fingertips.
Luke catches my hand, his eyes darkening. “Gracie,” he warns, his voice low.
“Stay with me,” I whisper. “Please? I... I don't want to be alone.”
His brow lifts as he looks at me uncertainly. Realizing the mistake I’ve made, my heart sinks into my stomach and I try to pull away, but his hands on mine tighten. I peek through my lashes, embarrassed by his rejection and upset that he won’t let me go.
“Scoot over,” he finally says.
“What?”
“Scoot over. I’ll stay.” I obey, and Luke slides into bed beside me.
As careful as he is to keep some distance between us, I can still feel the heat radiating off his body.
“Try to get some sleep,” he murmurs.
I settle back against the pillows, and surprisingly, I quickly drift off to sleep.
“Why’s it so hot in here?” I rasp, blinking against the sun pouring through the open blinds. My eyes drop to the arm that’s draped over my waist, and I become hyper aware of his rock- hard chest pressed snugly against my back. His breathing is slow and steady on the nape of my neck. Unable to stop myself, I carefully turn in his arms. He’s beautiful, and my fingers itch to touch him.
As if sensing me staring, Luke's eyes flutter open and for a moment, he looks confused. “Gracie,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep. “You okay?”
I nod, biting the corner of my lip.
Luke lifts his hand and cups my face, his thumb brushing across my cheek, “No more nightmares?”
I shake my head. “No more nightmares,” I confirm.
Luke's eyes darken, his gaze dropping to my lips before snapping back up. “Good, baby,” he says, his voice low and husky. His eyes stay locked on mine and the air between us starts to feel charged.
Please kiss me.
My heart sinks when suddenly he clears his throat and starts to pull away. “We should get up,” he says, his voice sounding strained.
“Sure,” I force a smile, trying to ignore the pang of disappointment as Luke slides out of bed and quickly leaves the room.
“I’m so stupid,” I whisper to myself as I climb out of bed.
I have to figure out a way to apologize to Luke for my behavior. I mean, I’ve got a lot going on, right? I’m in a vulnerable situation, and he was nice enough to comfort me. The last thing I want is for him to be uncomfortable in his own home because of my stupid crush.
Yeah. That’s what I need to do. Somehow.