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Loud voices erupted from the other side of the diner, making her flinch. She checked over her shoulder, her neck muscles creaking as she strained to see past the high-backed bench seats. Two dark-haired men were engaged in a heated argument. Icy dread snaked its way down her spine. Were they here for her?
Louisa returned with two plates of pie, her pencil tucked into the bun at the back of her head. “Will you excuse me?” She straightened, a determined frown forming on her round face as she headed toward the noisy table.
Grace couldn’t tear her eyes away from Louisa as she approached the men, her notepad at the ready. Grace gripped the table's edge, the thud of her heart drowning out every other sound. This is it. This is the?—
Unexpected, deep male laughter broke through the rushing blood in Grace’s ears. Louisa scribbled something in her notepad and returned to the kitchen leaving the men seated at their table, their laughter echoing in her wake. The men didn’t get up or cross the room with guns.
“Grace?” Caleb’s voice cut through the din, bringing her back to reality. He studied her from the opposite side of the table, concern in his eyes.
Grace sucked in a breath of soupy air and engineered a smile. “Yes?”
He leaned forward, his hands lacing together on the table. They were strong hands, weathered by the sun, with a small dent on the back of his wrist where his watch rested. His gaze darted to the two men and then back to her, his expression demanding answers. “I need you to be straight with me. What’s going on?”
Grace sighed, her thoughts in turmoil. The truth could unravel everything, but the consequences of keeping silent could be far worse.
14
Cold sweat popped along the back of Grace’s neck as she lifted her coffee mug to her lips, searching for the right words amidst the weight of Caleb’s expectant gaze. “It’s complicated.”
He forked some pie and chewed slowly. Waiting for more.
The clinking of cutlery and murmured conversations filled the cozy diner, reminding her of how far outside normal life she had drifted. She didn’t even know how she would find her way back.
She twisted a paper napkin between her trembling fingers. “I don’t want to pull you into this.” Her voice wavered. “You could get hurt. You’ve already been so kind, gone out of your way. If something happened to you or your family…” God, just thinking about baby Ellie made her throat ache.
His expression softened as he reached across the table, prying the shredded napkin from her grip and taking both her hands in his. “I was a SEAL before I joined the Coast Guard. I can see how frightened you are. You’re permanently on edge, wound so tight.” He stroked his thumb across the back of her hand, making her pulse leap. “I’ve seen this kind of trauma reaction before.”
A SEAL. It explained so much—the way he held himself with a quiet confidence, the economy of movement that spoke of rigorous training, the calm, measured way he approached everything.
“I left my boyfriend. Partner, whatever. Richard. Things were difficult. I couldn’t stay any longer.” She swallowed hard. Despite the weight of her own fears pressing down on her, there was real comfort in his presence, as though his mere existence offered a shield against Richard. But that was her hormones talking, right?
Her skin cooled as he released her hand. Was it wrong to wish she could hold on to that fleeting connection a little while longer?
“Did he hit you?”
“Hit me?”
“The marks on your cheek.”
She touched them with self conscious fingers, remembering the crack of wood hitting her cheek as she escaped from the FBI’s alleged safe house. “This wasn’t him…or at least not directly.”
“But there were other times?”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
Caleb blew out a breath, spreading his fingers wide on the table. He had such capable looking hands, with callouses on his fingers. Dark hairs peeped out from under his leather watch strap. Desire, a long forgotten emotion, looped lazily in her belly. What would those hands feel like on my skin?
“You’re running?”
Heat scorched her cheeks as she got her mutinous thoughts back under control. “I needed a fresh start, but he’s… Richard is finding it hard to let go.”
“The men in the forest?”
She nodded. “They work for him.”
“Have you spoken to the police?”
For all the good it did me. She forced a brittle smile onto her face. “The police are aware, yes.”
