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He couldn’t save everyone; he’d learned that lesson in the harshest way possible, but that didn’t mean he had to give up, to pull back from the world as he had done for so long. His time with Grace had shaped him and now he wanted more, so much more.
And he wanted to share it all with her. The delight on her face when she tasted his cooking, to feel the way her body shook with a deep belly laugh as he gathered her close, to hear her soft sighs of pleasure as he trailed kisses along her bare skin.
He wanted all of that and he would fight for it, no matter how hard she tried to keep him at arm’s length.
He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, his cabin drawing near.
Even with all the risks, he chose Grace.
31
Grace froze in the middle of the driveway as her car rounded the corner, the familiar scuffed and dented hood a harsh reminder of the events that had brought her here.
Caleb was behind the wheel.
She was too late. Her opportunity to slip away unnoticed had vanished like smoke in the wind. Although with Wyatt on the prowl, watching her every move, had leaving unnoticed ever been a realistic option?
The car rumbled to a halt, the engine ticking as it cooled. Caleb didn’t get out straight away. Her palms grew clammy, and she wiped them on her jeans, trying to steady her nerves. Every second stretched out into a tiny eternity of its own.
At last, Caleb emerged from the car. The drumbeat of blood in her ears swallowed his steps as he approached her. Her stomach clenched, a mixture of dread and longing warring within her. Despite her determination to leave, to spare him the weight of her troubles, she could not deny the depth of her feelings for this man. In another world, another life, she could have fallen in love with him. Hell, maybe she already had, here and now, in this messed up reality that had become her existence.
He walked toward her with easy, long-legged strides, the sun spinning gold in his hair. Desire spiraled in her belly, her body responding to him on a visceral level.
Grace huffed out a breath, re-centering herself. She dropped her backpack to the ground, straightening her spine. This was her chance to make things right, to do what she should have done from the beginning.
“Caleb—”
“Where are you going?” His gaze landed on her backpack. “I told you to stay here with Wyatt, where you would be safe.” His voice was rough, edged with a mixture of concern and frustration.
“My question exactly, it seemed we were going on a walk.” A deep voice behind her made her spin.
Wyatt stood right behind her, his arms crossed over his broad chest, an amused tilt to his mouth. Of course. She should have known better than to try to sneak past a man like Wyatt.
“I’ll leave you two alone.” Wyatt’s words hung in the air as he headed back to the house, the front door clicking behind him.
Grace turned back to Caleb, her heart racing, her mind scrambling for the right words. She owed him an explanation, but the truth stuck in her throat. How could she make him understand the guilt that pressed down on her? She had to make him see that leaving was the only way to protect him, to shield him from the darkness that haunted her like a shadow.
“Grace? You’re leaving?” Caleb’s accusation was brittle in the chill air and left her in doubt what he thought of her decision.
Her cheeks flamed hot. His anger was justified. “Yes. I just …I thought it would be too hard. I thought you might try to change my mind. And I have to go.” Even though leaving you is killing me. She stuffed her hands in her pockets, fighting the urge to reach for him, to seek the comfort of his touch. She couldn’t take the easy way out, not this time.
Caleb exhaled and dragged a hand through his hair. Something else was wrong. She could tell. She had only known him a few short days, but already she understood him as if their hearts were in sync.
“Grace, we need to talk.” His voice was low. “I ran into a reporter in town today. They told me something I didn’t know, something you didn’t tell me.”
Her stomach twisted into knots so tight it was painful to breathe. She knew what was coming, but couldn’t find the words to respond.
“The reporter said you’re under FBI protection. That the safe house you were in was attacked and a detective died. Is that true?” His eyes bore into hers, demanding an answer.
“Yes, it’s true.” She swallowed hard, her mouth dry.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Do you have any idea how much danger that puts us in? How much harder it makes it for me to keep you safe?” His hands were balls of fury at his side.
She didn’t blame him. She had kept this from him, thinking it would be safer, but all it had done was erode the freshly forged bridge of trust between them.
He exhaled. “When were you going to tell me, Grace?”
“I don’t know. Would it make any difference if I told you I did it to protect you?” The words felt hollow, a flimsy excuse.
