Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, Callum woke with a crick in his neck and a cat on his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed a hand over his face.
Sherlock kneaded his paws on Callum’s stomach and stared directly into his soul.
The cat might not have been the best home security system, but Callum would be lying if he didn’t think Sherlock had an intuition and an ability to read people and problems. A security cat.
Huh. Never thought he’d run into one of those.
“Come on, buddy. Let me have five more minutes to sleep.” Callum had stayed up half the night holding himself back from crawling into Grace’s bed, then spent the other half of the night imagining what would have happened if he had gone upstairs.
He let out a frustrated breath and pushed the cat away. “Five more minutes.”
Sherlock didn’t budge.
Callum stretched. His neck and shoulder twinged after a long night of sleeping on a tiny couch.
His stomach was still overstuffed after last night’s questionable decision to eat his bodyweight in tacos.
That was worth it. Mostly. Tacos were a fantastic distraction from Grace.
Not to mention, who didn’t love tacos? Totally worth it.
At least until Sherlock used his abdomen as a launch pad and jumped onto the coffee table.
“Come on, cat.”
The sun hadn’t risen, but he was wide awake and directly below the bedroom where Grace slept. What he wouldn’t do to be in that bed right now.
Sherlock glared at him from the coffee table and meowed as if demanding that Callum keep it professional. “That ship has sailed, my feline friend.”
But that was where his mind should be. Fix the problems, and a world of possibilities opened to him and Grace.
What information would Dean have found overnight?
Perhaps Vivian had an update from the DOJ.
If so, he and Grace might have travel orders and a meeting with the attorneys lined up.
Good. Then they could understand Dominic’s behavior.
His stalking her had to be more than wanting to repossess Grace like a lost belonging.
He scrubbed a hand over his face again and forced his shoulders to relax. His mind wandered from work to how this was different than the Army.
Did he enjoy working for Titan?
Yeah, even if he took his current assignment out of the mix, he did more than he realized he would. It was never boring. There wasn’t much sit-around-and-wait.
Sunlight glowed through the gauzy drapes. The too-small couch didn’t make lounging in bed appealing. He wasn’t falling asleep again, especially when the possibility of coffee and breakfast was so close.
Alicia wouldn’t kill him for poking around her kitchen. She’d almost let him cook last night, and he had something to prove after fumbling whether he believed he was a great cook. He absolutely was. A total master in the kitchen.
Twenty minutes later, the bacon sizzled in a cast-iron skillet and the coffee percolated. The scent had pulled him fully into the land of the living and, with the sounds of footsteps upstairs, possibly lured someone awake.
He poured himself a cup of coffee and waited. Anticipation tingled in his chest. He was too old to tie himself in knots over a woman, yet here he was, hoping like hell that Grace came downstairs.
She padded into the kitchen, and his heart double-tapped at the sight of her. Sleepy and soft and so damn appealing that he gripped the spatula harder. “Morning, gorgeous.”
She stopped short, blushing, and then, with a surprisingly shy smile, beelined for the coffeepot. “Good morning to you, too.”
Who knew flannel anything could catch his eye? Boy, had it. Everything about those pajamas was calling to him. “Did I wake you up?”
“The coffee and bacon did.”
“It’s almost done. Are you hungry?”
She leaned on the counter next to the stove and wrapped both hands around her coffee. Callum stepped away from the stove and pulled her close. “You doing okay this morning?”
She blew on her coffee, nodding with a sleepy grin.
He’d never been more aware of a woman in his life.
He wanted his hands on her, unbuttoning the shirt, dragging down the pants, peeling away the layers until his palms ran over her smooth skin.
That wasn’t going to happen in this kitchen, but still, he gently took her mug from her and kissed her lips.
She sighed against him. The antsy energy that had itched in his arms since the moment he heard her footsteps upstairs calmed. Not that he didn’t need so much more from Grace, but if she were in his arms, he was breathing easier.
Her kisses feathered against his mouth. “I’m doing better than I was sixty seconds ago.”
Callum had never lived with a woman. Never made a woman breakfast, and sure as hell hadn’t held someone in the kitchen for a good morning kiss, and he never wanted this to stop. Fuck, he was gone for her. Actually, that had been the case for years.
“What else are you making?” she asked.
Sherlock meowed from the living room as if he had input.
“What do you want?” He squeezed her hips.
“Pancakes? Toast? What do you want?”
Her.
He pulled the cast iron off the heat and shuffled the bacon onto a stack of paper towels. “Whichever is easier.” Then he’d drag her upstairs, shut the door, and have what he really wanted. His heartbeat hammered.
“We could make that… later.” Her eyelashes fluttered, and her tongue darted over her lips. “And go upstairs?”
“Great idea.” He took her hand in his and crossed the kitchen. They needed to find themselves behind a locked door. “We should—”
The click, click, click of Argos and Toto trotting down the stairs slowed Callum and Grace in the living room.
Alicia stood behind her dogs. Her gaze dropped to their joined hands, then she acted as if she had seen nothing.
“I can’t believe I’m up this early for a second day in a row.
” She eyed Callum as she walked toward the kitchen.
“This didn’t happen before you showed up. ”
“There’s bacon on the counter,” Grace said, like it was a peace offering.
He didn’t let go of her hand and couldn’t get her up the stairs fast enough.
The dogs whimpered and trotted back into the living room.
“Come on, boys. Give them privacy,” Alicia called from the kitchen.
Grace faltered on the stairs. He faced her; her jaw fell open, embarrassed and guilty. His lips parted, ready to coax her the remaining few steps, but spotted Argos and Toto, attentive and watching… the front door? Their heads tilted as if hearing what he couldn’t.
Their low growls rumbled. Their fur stood up. His blood ran cold as their barks sounded in a way he’d never heard from them before. Callum jerked Grace behind him—and the front window exploded.