Chapter Two
Grace
A wet nose pulls me from the comfort of sleep. The shower’s running.
Well, ain’t that just grand.
AJ came home from his stakeout and didn’t bother waking me. At least he knows he stepped in it last night.
Belle, my Australian Shepherd/Bernese Mountain Dog puppy, puts her swollen paw on the bed and whines. “I know, sweetie. Wasp stings are no fun at all.” The poor dog stepped on one of the mean little shits out on the deck yesterday morning, and she’s been favoring her foot ever since.
I glance at the bathroom door with a sigh. “He didn’t feed you, did he?”
She limps out into the hall, then stops and peers back at me.
That’s a no. While Belle loves AJ, she’s bonded to me something fierce. Pretty sure this dog would throw herself in front of a whole swarm of wasps for me—even after getting stung and visiting the dreaded v-e-t.
“Come on. Mama’s got you.” I slip into my robe and pad out to the kitchen.
My knees crack and pop for the first few steps.
Six months of training for the Austin City Marathon have left me in the best shape of my life—except for my knees.
They’re not pleased with me. But one more long run, and I can start my taper.
Belle limps along ahead of me. She’s barely putting any weight on her bad paw. If it’s not better by tonight, she’s going back to the vet.
At least the pain isn’t affecting her appetite. She wolfs down her breakfast in record time, then stays by my side while I make a pot of coffee for AJ and a cup of instant Cafe Vienna for myself.
The early morning light peeks over the hills, creating a scene worthy of an oil painting, but I can’t appreciate it. Not today.
Tossing and turning all night left me completely raw. Being the wife of a Ranger isn’t for the faint of heart. But he’s never refused my call before. Never canceled plans by text message. Never failed to wake me up when he got home from a stakeout.
His steady footsteps slow as he reaches the kitchen. And though my morning coffee ritual usually soothes me, tension gathers in my shoulders instead.
Yet, I pass him my mug, the rich scents of cinnamon and vanilla wafting between us.
“You’re up early,” he says quietly.
“I never sleep well when you’re on a stakeout.”
“Grace—”
His tone grates on my last, frayed nerve, but when I feel the heat of him seep into my back, I turn.
It’s the silly little habits you develop after so long together that often mean the most. AJ thinks my coffee tastes like flavored water, but we share this moment of connection almost every morning.
His arm snakes around my waist as he takes a sip of my Cafe Vienna. I can’t help but melt against him. Even when I’m angry—or hurt—his quiet strength still grounds me.
“I’ll never understand how you drink this stuff,” he says. The affection in his tone softens a fraction of my anger.
“Because it tastes like cinnamon and vanilla and everything good in this world.”
“I should have said no, darlin’. I’m sorry.”
Resting my head on his shoulder, I try to find the right words to put us back on equal footing. Or at least make him understand why I was so angry with him.
“I don’t care that you have to work this weekend, AJ. Yes, I was looking forward to a little getaway. We haven’t had much time together the past few months. But you couldn’t even call me to let me know?”
He pulls back and stares down at his boots, a flush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. “Jasper warned me you’d be mad as a wet hen.”
He’s digging himself a deeper hole with every word. I straighten my shoulders and give him my best glare. “Maybe next time you’ll listen to him. I don’t like going to bed without you. But going to bed angry because you were too much of a coward to answer the phone? That was so much worse.”
He flinches, his gaze pinned to the floor. “One more big case—maybe two—and I’ll make captain. Then I’ll be handing out the shit assignments and comin’ home on time every night.”
I choke out a laugh. “Promises, promises. You’d never ask your people to do anything you wouldn’t do yourself.”
He stiffens, his expression shuttering. As much as I want him to own up to his mistake, I can’t handle spending another minute with this still simmering between us.
Cupping the back of his neck, I pull him down to brush a kiss to his lips. “After fifteen years of marriage, I know you, AJ. This is who you are. Who you’ve always been. I don’t want or need you to change. But we work because we’re honest with one another. Always.”
His gaze softens, silver flecks glinting in his bloodshot blue eyes. After a beat, he rests his forehead against mine. “How about, ‘I’ll come home on time more often’?”
“Better.” I brush the backs of my fingers along his cheek. He hasn’t shaved. Or slept. If I had to guess, he only came home because the showers at the office have no water pressure. “You’re exhausted.”
“We waited all fucking night outside of one of the strip malls down by the river, and nothin’.
Either Marvin’s CI got bad intel or they made us.
Fuckers. I could have been in bed. With you.
Instead, I had to hear McGrath snore every time he nodded off for more than five minutes.
Harris is gonna shit a brick when he finds out we came up empty.
We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t put us on traffic duty for the next month. ”
“Is he expecting you right away?” Even after so many years together, when we’re this close, my nipples tighten and something flutters in my core.
The corners of his eyes crinkle, and his voice takes on a smoother tone. “I got an hour.”
“Then come with me.” I link our fingers and lead him down the hall to our bedroom.
“I had a whole romantic evening planned up at the cabin tonight,” he says as I let my robe drop to the floor at the foot of the bed. “Bubble bath, rose petals, champagne, chocolate-covered strawberries…”
I have to stifle my snort with my hand. “In that tiny-ass tub? We have a much better one here.”
His hands frame my breasts through my thin tank. “Yeah, but the cabin don’t have a landline. Or a single reliable cell tower within fifty miles.”
Dropping to one knee, AJ presses a kiss to the black cotton panties covering my mound. Goosebumps race over my skin.
“God, you smell like rain,” he whispers against me. “Lie down so I can taste you.”
AJ
Grace curls her fingers around my tie and pulls me to my feet. “Get naked first, handsome.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The Ranger double belt looks cool, but times like this, I curse the damn thing. My zipper is strangling my dick by the time I get it loose.
Grace’s deft fingers flick open the buttons on my dress shirt one by one until she can press kisses across my chest. Her nipples strain against her thin tank, hard points I ache to wrap my lips around.
Instead, I sink my hands into her dark blond hair and crush my mouth to hers.
Fuck.
Boots.
I stumble and almost fall on my ass—with Grace on top of me—trying to get the damn things off without the use of my hands.
“Careful there.” Her voice takes on a sultry tone, a hint of Texas twang infusing her words, as she grabs my hips to steady me. “Unless you want to do it on the floor.”
“Perfectly good bed…right behind you,” I manage as I tug at her panties. “But these have to go.”
Her blond curls glisten with arousal as she lies down and spreads her legs for me. The first light touch of my tongue is like coming home in every way. Her scent, her taste, the sound of her breath catching in her throat…even the slight tremble of her thighs is perfection.
I find my rhythm quickly, tracing patterns over and around her clit until her heels start to dig into the mattress.
“Aaron…please…”
She only uses my first name when she’s about to come—or when I’m being a complete jackwad—and I reach up to give one of her nipples a hard pinch. It’s enough to send her flying over the edge. Her body coils like a spring, her back arches, and her moan turns into a keening cry.
I slow my strokes, lapping up her release like it’s water in the hottest desert until her tremors fade.
At forty-three years old, I shouldn’t be this close to blowing my wad in my briefs, but precum leaks from my crown as I strip off the dark blue cotton.
“Turn on your side, darlin’.” Positioning myself behind her, I wrap my arm around her waist. Her channel’s tight, and I kick myself for all the overtime I’ve put in this month.
Slowly, I start to move my hips. Grace matches me thrust for thrust. Her hair tickles my nose as I kiss my way up the curve of her neck to her ear.
“Touch yourself, darlin’. I want you to come again.”
From this position, I can’t see her face, but when she fondles her clit, her soft breaths quicken.
I don’t deserve this woman. I never have. I never will. But by some miracle, she’s never given up on me—even when I’m being a fucking idiot.
Under my hand, her abs start to quiver. “Harder,” she moans.
Anything she wants, I’ll give her. Each thrust brings us closer. The ache in my balls turns into an all-consuming fire.
“Fuuuuck.”
With one last thrust, I let go, and Grace comes with me.
The minutes slip away too quickly. Delaying the inevitable just a little longer, I trace the lines and curves of her tattoo with my fingers. The phases of the moon arch over a cluster of pink, white, and red oleanders—the official flower of Galveston, where we were married.
Our legs tangle under the sheets. I’ll have to go soon, and she’ll spend the rest of the weekend alone. Fuckin’ job. At least on stakeout, we shouldn’t be in any real danger. This is an intel-gathering op only.
Grace rubs her foot up and down my calf with a sigh. “Will I see you at all tonight?”
“Not unless we can convince the chief that Marvin’s intel is as worthless as teats on a bull. You painting this weekend?”
“Maybe tomorrow.” She stretches, and her nipples tighten under the sheet.
“One of my students wants to turn in his final project early. I told him no the other day, since we were supposed to be gone, but I emailed him back last night. I’ll meet him at the community college a little after noon.
If I start my run there, I can get in a flat, eighteen-miler that takes me around part of Lady Bird Lake. ”
I trail kisses along her shoulder. “There ain’t a lot of traffic out that way. You’ll take Belle, right?”
Grace turns to face me, disappointment churning in her blue-green eyes. “She stepped on a wasp yesterday. I left you a voicemail. The vet doesn’t want her running for at least a few days—if not a week. I’ll drop her at Bark Away so she doesn’t destroy another pair of my shoes.”
“Dammit. I did listen. Fucking all nighter is messing with my head. But I don’t like you running out there all alone.”
“Aaron—”
I cringe at her tone and hold up a hand. “I know, I know. You’re a grown-ass adult who can handle herself. But…take your pepper spray and your whistle. Please. And call me when you’re back in the car.”
Her expression softens, and her palm against my cheek is reassurance we’re mostly square after my fuckup.
“I’ll be done by five. Don’t worry.”
I press a kiss to her forehead and get to my feet. “Darlin’, I always worry.”
Straightening my tie, I stand in front of the mirror and cast a glance over my shoulder at Grace. She’s still in bed, Belle curled up next to her. God, she’s so fucking beautiful.
“I know we ain’t supposed to go to bed angry, but the make-up sex is pretty damn hot.”
She throws her head back and laughs, then narrows her eyes at me. “AJ Stone, if you pick a fight with me again tonight, there won’t be any ‘make-up sex’ to be had. Now get out of here before the chief comes banging on our door looking for you.”