Page 39 of His Saving Grace

What if she’s hiding something serious, though? Something that’s going to put your family in danger? Something that would change things permanently?

He shoved the questions aside. Until he had concrete proof, dwelling on the what-ifs and maybes was dumb. And, he was not looking for a relationship, so there was no point in even worrying about that stuff.

They reached the driveway without running into any of his nosey family. A miracle in and of itself. None of them knew he’d asked Grace out, and he was fine with that.

He opened the truck door for her and helped her inside. Tank, who had followed them, got ready to leap in behind her.

“Un-uh,” he said, grabbing the dog by the collar. She went limp, dropping her butt to the ground and staring up at him with her big, brown eyes. Those sad puppy-dog eyes were so not working on him today. “Come on.”

Tank refused to move, digging her paws into the gravel. He pulled harder, and she dug in even more. Jesus, he was so not having a tug of war with the fucking dog in the driveway. Especially since she’d abandoned him as soon as something better came along. Damn Jared and damn his stupid dog.

He was just about to pick her up and physically carry her onto the front porch when Grace intervened.

“Bella, go. Now.” The words had an edge to them, one he hadn’t heard from her before. It made his hormones sit up and turn in her direction. She pointed to the porch through the open truck window. Much to his annoyance, the dog huffed out a breath, stood up and wandered toward the house. She looked back a couple of times, but Grace kept pointing and she kept walking.

Mason crossed his arms and watched the dog make her way up the stairs and then sit at the top. He waited a beat, to see if she would disobey Grace, but she didn’t. She just sat there, watching them. He shook his head at her antics. When he was sure she was staying put, he walked around the truck and climbed in. A twist of his wrist made the engine purr, and they were off.

“Did you rename my dog?” He glanced over at her.

Her cheeks went rosy and she kept her gaze locked out the passenger side window. “She just didn’t look like a Tank to me.”

“I didn’t name her.” For some reason, he felt the need to explain.

She looked at him. “You mentioned that.” She smoothed her skirt over her knee. “Who named her?”

The pang of sadness that smacked him in the chest was unexpected. It, and the lump in his throat, threw him off kilter. So much so that he couldn’t speak for a minute. He’d dealt with this already, so what the fuck was wrong with him?

Grace must have sensed his hesitation had deeper roots. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s okay.” He forced the words out, but they were low, rough. He cleared his throat and swallowed. Now that the lump was gone, it seemed like the words wouldn’t stop. “She belonged to a guy in my support group. He got her because he thought having a dog would be good for him. Give him a reason to want to get up in the morning.”

He kept his gaze on the road but saw her turn toward him out of the corner of his eye. He pulled in a deep breath and the rest just spilled out. “But it didn’t work. And after he committed suicide, I decided to take her.”

Grace gasped, and he looked at her. She’d pulled her sunglasses off and placed them on the seat between them. The horror and sadness in her gaze was why he didn’t like to talk about it.

“I’m so sorry.” The sympathy in her voice made his chest give a squeeze.

He shrugged and turned his gaze back to the road so he didn’t have to look at her. “Yeah, well, it happens way more frequently than it should.” He was proud with how steady he sounded, given that his insides felt like they’d just gone a round with the rotor blade of a chopper.

Thankfully she dropped the subject, because he didn’t know what else to say. Silence settled around them, which was good, because it gave him time to get his shit together.

Except, the longer the silence stretched on, the more tension piled into the truck with them. And it wasn’t the good, sexual kind of tension. It was the stupid I-don’t-know-what-to-say kind. It sucked.

Well, that’s what happens when you start talking about people killing themselves. Have you ever been on a date before? Jesus.

Yeah, but it was done and he couldn’t take the words back, no matter how much he wanted to. Jared and his choices were something he never talked about. Hell, he didn’t even like thinking about it. The past was the past. What was the point of dwelling on it?

You keep saying that, but you know it isn’t true.

Fuck, no. He was not doing this to himself. He was on a date with a beautiful woman, one who drove him crazy in all the right ways, and they were headed to celebrate the Fourth by eating so-bad-for-you-it’s-good food and shit like that.

He let his gaze flick to her. She was looking out the window, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. Her scent wafted toward him, all sunshine and wildflowers, teasing him mercilessly. Unable to resist any longer, slid his fingers over her knee.

She jumped, her gaze shooting first to his hand and then to his face. He held back a grin and kept his eyes on the road.

“Why don’t you turn on the radio?” Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away.

She nodded, reaching for the knob. “Okay.” Her voice was scratchy and low. She flipped through the stations, stopping on a country and western one.