I pressed a kiss behind her ear, then took the cup gently from her hand and set it on the counter. Her newly freed fingers fisted my shirt and slid up my chest as I brushed another kiss to her throat.

  Fuck, I loved how she touched me. Like she couldn’t get enough.

  “We may not be traditional,” I whispered as I dragged my lips along her hot skin. “But we’re us.” Another kiss to where her pulse was now pounding on the other side, and her hands raked into my hair, holding my head.

  Her whole body melted against mine as I lavished her skin, and I was a fucking runaway train.

  “Us,” she echoed on a breathy whisper.

  I rose and took in her hooded, lust-filled eyes and flushed cheeks. I cupped her jaw and ran my thumb over her bottom lip, trying in vain to get the words out over the haze racing through my blood.

  “Nothing we did was wrong, Grace.” Tears glistened in her eyes at the word that clearly triggered pain with her. “We had a crazy fun night, and if that night gave us a baby, then it was meant to be.” Emotion flooded her expression. “No mistakes.”

  “No mistakes,” she said, the words sounding weighty.

  “Do you believe that?”

  Her misty eyes dropped to my mouth. “I believe this.”

  Our mouths crashed together. I sunk everything I had into it as I caressed her tongue with mine and ran my hands down her body to drag her closer.

  She responded like I knew she would. Like she was made for me.

  Moaning and clawing and kissing me like she’d been born to do it, it was fucking heaven.

  I backed her up to the kitchen table and pressed her onto her back, lifting her shirt to kiss her belly as I slid a hand up to find a hard nipple under her bra.

  She groaned loudly and bucked under me, seeking more pressure. I yanked her leggings and panties down, wasting no time.

  “Fuck,” she ground out under her breath when I dipped to taste her. “Oh, God, Mateo.”

  “Sweet Jesus, you taste good,” I moaned against her clit, and she bucked against my mouth, her hands in my hair. Seeking more.

  Gladly.

  I ran my tongue from bottom to top in one luxurious sweep, relishing the shudder that resulted. Her knees came up to give me better access, and I grabbed that sweet ass, kneading the softness as I made love to her pussy with my mouth, flicking my tongue over her clit, and her sexy little sounds began to jog my memory. I’d done this before. What a lucky bastard I was.

  My cock was screaming behind my jeans.

  Grace writhed and groaned beneath me, her fingers yanking at my hair, so close to an orgasm, I could feel it and taste it—

  Then my cell phone rang.

  I debated ignoring it. The timing was for shit and I knew her orgasm was chasing her. I could make her come at any minute.

  But her hands released my head, and I felt her looking down at me.

  I lifted my gaze to hers, and while I could clearly see the disappointment in her lusty eyes, she was more clearheaded than I was.

  “Shouldn’t you get that?” she asked in a husky voice. “What if it’s about Olivia?”

  Fuck. She was right.

  I pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, then stood to grab my phone while she righted herself and found her pants, bringing a pang to my chest.

  “Hello?”

  I ran a hand over my mouth, her sexy arousal all over me, stirring my senses.

  “Hey, Chief. Sorry to bother you on a Saturday.”

  Bother didn’t even come close. It was all I could do not to break my phone in half as I mouthed an I’m sorry to her. “Hey, Craig. What’s going on?”

  “Just got a call from the forensics folks that are processing the evidence from the Pittman Meat Plant.”

  “Yeah?” I glanced over at Grace, but she was busy cleaning up our coffee cups at the sink. “What did they find?”

  “You’re not going to believe this, Chief.”

  I’d lived in Vegas. Not much surprised me anymore. “Try me.”

  “Those barrels they found out back?”

  “Yup.”

  “Well, they popped them open, expecting to find more narcs, but no.”

  The hair began to stand up on the back of my neck as I waited for him to finish, wondering if he’d found something more on Pittman and his ties to the plant.

  “Some were empty. Some held assault rifles, no serial numbers, of course. Enough to arm a small army.”

  Well, shit, that was alarming. Along with everything else going on—

  “But we also have a body, Chief.”

  Of fucking course.

  I dropped my head with a sigh and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Who?”

  “Can’t tell yet. It’s too badly decomposed. It’s been taken to the medical examiner’s office.”

  My gaze lifted to find Grace studying me with concern. “Okay. I’ll get there as soon as I can . . . wait. Shit. It’s Saturday, I can’t. Olivia—”

  “I’ll watch her,” Grace piped up, making me pause in surprise. “If you need to go work.”

  I muffled the phone. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know that. I want to. You obviously have something important to take care of.” She waved her hand toward the phone. “Go. Be the chief of police. I’ll stay and handle Olivia for a few hours until you get back.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I handle a classroom full of them all day, every day. I’m sure.”

  Something in me wilted in relief and gratitude. I’d have to make it up to her somehow. “Thank you.”

  She nodded as I turned back to my call.

  “Craig. I’ll be there.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Oh, and, Craig?”

  “Sir?”

  “Next time forensics or dispatch or anyone else calls you with an issue like this, remind them they should be calling me first.”

  There was a pause on the line then, “Sure thing. Yes, sir.”

  I hung up, then turned back to Grace, taking in her disheveled hair and swollen, kissable lips. Damn it, I wanted to kick Craig in the balls for cockblocking me. “I’m sorry about this.”

  “Don’t be. It’s your job.”

  “Still . . . can I buy you dinner to make up for it?”

  Those dark eyes sparkled as she stared at me, interest and wariness warring with each other right in front of me. “Dinner? As in . . . a date?”

  “Well, I don’t have a reliable babysitter yet, so if you don’t mind a four-year-old tagging along, then I guess . . . yeah. A date.”

  I’d just said that out loud. A date. The guarded look that hovered behind her soft smile was one I recognized. I saw it in the mirror every day. Fear. She was afraid to believe in this, and I got that. In spades.

  “I’ll have to check on Faith, and things with my dad.”

  “Oh—of course. Damn I’d forgotten about that, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” Her smile turned amused then sad. “You made me forget there for a minute, too. I’ll let you know if I can get away for—” She gave an eye roll. “A date with my husband.”

  There it was again, that feeling that I was right where I was supposed to be.

  And liking how that word rolled off her lips.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Grace

  It was odd, being alone in Mateo’s house. In his private space. It felt invasive somehow, even though I was there with his full knowledge and blessing to help him out. He’d told me to make myself at home, grab a water, grab a beer, make a sandwich, do whatever I wanted, but one glance at his table made me weak in the knees. I couldn’t believe I’d just done that. I averted my eyes and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, taking it to the living room.

  I sank onto an oversized chair and let my eyes roam the room. The furniture was older but very tasteful and comfortable. The built-in shelves were still mostly empty, as they’d only been there a week, but random items poured from open boxes here and there, and still sealed boxes marked with Sharpie lined one wall. The stack of photos called to me again.

  Curiosity getting the better of me, I got up and repositioned myself on the floor in front of the stack, setting the top one aside. I wanted to save it for last, to look at again. The next one was framed in an ornate nickel design, and I smiled.

  Olivia, probably last year some time, grinning from ear to ear on what was likely a new tricycle. Another was Mateo and Olivia smiling into the camera from a selfie, blue sky framing their faces. My heart squeezed, looking at them. She was so clearly his entire world, and I envied that kind of perfect, unconditional love.

  Two other photos were older, with a young version of Mateo with what was probably his family. One of him and a bunch of guys . . . coworkers, college buddies, couldn’t tell. And then, I was back to the first one.

  It was of Mateo and his wife, with Olivia as a baby in her arms. The brand-new family. I’d played down my reaction earlier, but I couldn’t deny the hit to my chest. Someone had snapped a precious moment of the two of them, foreheads together over their new daughter, eyes closed like they were sharing one thought. It was intimate and powerful, an heirloom for Olivia to treasure forever of the overwhelming love that made her. A love so palpable, I felt guilty just tainting the frame with my touch. I set it down quickly, and swallowed hard, gazing at the image.

  How could I ever compete with that?

  Shock at that thought shot through me so hard and fast, I nearly fell scrambling to my feet. Breathing raggedly, I backed up to the couch, knocking my water bottle over.

  “Shit.”

  I sprinted to the kitchen, grabbing a dishtowel off the counter as I side-eyed the table.

  Compete with that.

  What the living hell was I thinking, letting that even seep into my conscience. Love? Please. Getting wasted and picked up at a bar at a wedding and fucking like rabbits . . . that wasn’t the thing palpable love stories were made of.

  That was what drunk mistakes were about.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and knelt with the towel, my hot tears joining the water soaking into the carpet. We weren’t drunk thirty minutes ago in the park when we kissed like two people starved for the taste of each other. We weren’t drunk fifteen minutes ago when his mouth was between my legs, making love to my still sensitive clit.

  I rested my elbows on the couch seat and leaned my hot forehead on my arms. That wasn’t love. That was primal need.

  “I have no business playing with this.”

  This was a family, and I was broken. They had enough on their plates without my dysfunction jumping in.

  Today was the day, and nothing had happened. It was time to quit stalling, and just rip off the Band-Aid. Go buy the damn pregnancy test and get it over with so I could make an informed decision and plan out my life.

  My phone buzzed from the end table, and I saw Faith’s smiling face fill my screen.

  I reached for it and stopped, suddenly filled with trepidation as thoughts rolled through my head on superspeed. Dad screaming at me with his twisted face. Needing to check with her so I could have a dinner date with my superhot husband and adorable stepdaughter.

  That wasn’t happening. I didn’t need to check with anyone because I wasn’t going. I knew what would happen if I did. We’d find a way to be alone, and he’d touch me and I’d get lost in him and it would be over. He’d finish what he started and more, and my heart would climax right along with me.

  Because this time I’d remember.

  My phone silenced and went dark, followed by a ding and a line of text.

  Faith: He’s in ICU. No control on right side. Speech garbled. Be there till stable.

  I closed my eyes and breathed in slowly, then typed back.

  Me: Are you ok?

  Faith: Are you?

  I had no idea how to answer that. Was I okay? Fuck, no. But one thing I’d always done was take care of my sisters. Especially this one. As much as I’d love to be equals now, we weren’t.

  Me: I’m fine. Need me to come back?

  Faith: No visitors right now. ICU has limited hours. I’m going home.

  Me: So…

  Faith: We can come tomorrow 8am for an hour. They’ll call if something happens before then.

  If something happens.

  Fuck.

  Me: Faith, are you ok? Need me to come over?

  Dots danced for a few seconds, then . . .

  Faith: I’m going home, then to the office. I need to make some calls.

  Faith: Please don’t dwell on what Dad said.

  Faith: See you in the morning.

  Faith: Please get ahold of Hope.

  As if on cue, Hope’s face, with her dark, trendy hairstyle and smoky lined chocolate eyes filled my screen.

  Don’t dwell on what Dad said.

  Of course not. Who would dwell on such a thing? Silly, really.

  I pressed the green button. “Hey.”

  I filled Hope in on Dad’s condition, Faith’s frustration, and didn’t correct her when she said she sucked and was a total sister fail.

  “You can remedy all that, Hope.” I took a deep breath. “Come help us out.”

  There was the expected pause, even though I was one hundred and fifty percent positive she’d already run all the possible scenarios before she ever called back. “I’m in the middle of a big case—”

  “You’d have to leave it to come to the funeral,” I said, a little snippier than I meant to be. “Look at it as being proactive.” I sighed. “Hope, I’m not Faith. I’m not gonna try to sell you a sack of lies about our dying daddy or tell you he’s had a change of heart. He hasn’t. He’s—” My breath left me for a moment, and I had to pull it together. “It’s like there’s just the nastiness left.”

  I told her what he’d said to me.

  “Jesus,” she breathed. “And you’re still going back?”

  “I’m . . . not right away,” I said. “As long as he’s in the ICU, visitation is limited, but I need to be there for Faith. She can’t do it all by herself, and I’m telling you she isn’t going to let him stay there alone.”

  “Grace, as crappy as it sounds, I can get leave for a funeral easier than asking to see my sick father. I know that’s awful, but honestly, I . . .”

  Her words trailed, and I understood. God, I understood.

  “I get it.” I rolled my stiff shoulders and pushed to my feet. “You know I do. But we need you. At least call, for now? Not like this,” I amended, knowing she was about to argue. “I mean every day. Call Faith. Ask questions. Get involved. Do something.”

  I heard a heavy sigh on the other end. “Okay, yes, of course I can do that. And I’m sorry this is so hard.”

  “But, Hope?”

  “Yeah?”

  I picked at a piece of lint on my leggings. “If you want to get things off your chest or . . . have some kind of closure with him . . .” I sighed at the screaming silence. “I guess I’m saying don’t wait. I don’t think there’s a lot of time to do that.”

  The seconds ticked by in slow motion. “Did you?”

  “Well, he thinks I’m Mama and called me a cunt, so, you know, I think that ship has sailed.”

  She chuckled on the other end, the only other person in the world that could do that and it be okay. The only one I’d even have this conversation with. “I’ll call Faith as soon as we hang up.”

  “Okay.”

  “Right after we talk about your husband.”

  I grimaced. “Oh, God.”

  But I was grateful for the subject change. Even this one.

  “Still looking at it that way, huh?” she asked. “Because that’s what I’ve been so busy ignoring y’all for. I have a certain set of papers in my hot little hands, ready to scan and email.”

  My mouth went dry and my belly clenched.

  Wasn’t it just last week that I would have literally climbed through the phone to yank those papers my way? Now . . . what was this feeling in the pit of my stomach?

  “Wow, really?”

  “Yes, really.” There was a pause. “Is that still what you want? Anything changed?”

  “What? No!” I said quickly. Maybe too quickly. “Of course, it is. So there were no issues?”

  “I had to pull a few strings,” she said. “But it’s relatively straightforward. You just both have to sign them and scan them back to me, and I’ll send them on. There’s a fifteen-day waiting period once they’re logged in as received, but then you’ll officially be free.”

  Free.

  The waiting period was longer than our marriage so far.

  “Okay.”

  “Grace.”

  I blinked and walked in a circle, my eyes landing on all of Mateo’s things at every turn. “Yes, what?”

  “What’s going on?” she asked. “Have you changed your mind? Sprouting feelings for this guy?”

  Feelings.

  I have no idea what I want.

  “No, it’s just—confusing.”

  I heard a shuffle of the receiver. “Uh-huh. Confusing like small-town drama, or confusing like . . . you keep falling into his mouth by accident?”

  I covered my eyes with my free hand. “It’s a really good mouth.”

  “I see.” There was humor in her tone, and I wanted to smack it out of her. “And the rest of him?”

  I paced in a circle. “Stop it.”

  “Have you done the deed?” she asked, nearly purring. “Again, I mean.”

  “Not yet.”

  Fuck if I didn’t hear that as it came out of my mouth.

  “Gracie,” she said, my feet coming to a halt at the more somber tone. She sounded just like our mother when she did that. “Are you late yet? Did you buy a test?”

  I blew out a slow breath. “Officially today, and I’m doing that in a little while when he gets home.”

  “When—when he gets home?” Shit. “Home from—where are you?”

  In hell.

  “I’m in his living room, waiting on his daughter to come home from a party, because he got called to work, so I said I’d stay and wait for her and watch her till—”

  “Let’s rewind,” she interrupted.

  I groaned. “Let’s not.”

  I couldn’t tell her about the near sexcapade in his kitchen and the hot and heaviness in the park’s parking lot. Not now.

 

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