Finding Grace Read online

  He struggled against her for a moment. His powerful glutes tensed in her hands, only making her clamp down on him more resolutely, with all of the muscles of her body.

  This time, his moan was more one of surrender, so she was surprised when he rolled, pulling her on top of him into a new position. It took her a few bumpy strokes to figure out how to set a rhythm that would push her over.

  When she finally succeeded, the pleasure was almost too much. Then he started touching her in all the right places, and it started over. His touches were almost too light to even be teasing, and he backed off every time she even got close again. It was maddening.

  He must have sensed that she was too far gone to keep it up because he rolled her beneath him once again, his strokes steady, but too gentle, not forceful as they usually were. He was shaking so hard, she was worried about him. Finally, he let out a yell people up and down the block must have heard and gave her two powerful thrusts before he melted into her, gasping.

  He rolled off her soon afterward, mumbling some words she barely caught—“sorry…after…you need…tried…damn hard…”—and some she didn’t. Then he spooned her back, put his arm around her, and promptly fell asleep.

  Not Thorne. She lay awake thinking what a nice guy Jack was. She knew it had been hard for him—would have known even if he hadn’t just said so himself. It was in the way he’d just made love to her, all soft and sweet instead of hard and demanding as he’d always been. It had taken him a lot longer, too.

  It was the scars, of course. They turned him off. Even if he couldn’t see them in the dark, he wasn’t likely forget they were there. And he hadn’t even seen the worst of them—barely the least.

  But he thought she’d needed some loving, so he’d done his damnedest to give it to her, poor guy. He must feel really sorry for her.

  What kind of woman did it make her to take him up on that? She was thankful her thoughts dissolved before the answer came.

  * * * *

  Thorne slept well and beat him out of bed again. It took some serious persuasion to talk Jack into taking her to get her hair cut, followed by some none-too-subtle threats, pleading, and a promise to make it brief to get him to drive on to Blackridge and give her a few minutes alone, but she managed it.

  Standing in her office, she ran her hand through her hair. It was so short it almost stood up. She’d gotten rid of the purple. She no longer had a use for it, any more than her tinted glasses. Major Shithead had kept the lights on twenty-four/seven, which, besides sucking royally at the time, had made them too dark for her to wear inside now.

  The only disguise she still had use for was her old clothes. She could tell herself that it was because she hated shopping, which was a certain and abiding truth. If it was also true that they hid her scars, there was no need to remind anyone about them, was there?

  She and Jack had walked in together. No point in hiding that any more, either. Even if it was only temporary, until he decided she was well enough to handle his rejection. She didn’t want to think about what would happen after that, whether she’d be able to handle seeing him all the time, knowing he didn’t want her anymore. But hey, people lived with things like that every day. No point in dwelling on something she couldn’t change, right?

  Thorne looked around the room that had once been familiar to her. It felt different. Both her chair and the window looked new, but that wasn’t it. She ignored the niggling possibility that maybe it was because everything was different now and there was no going back.

  It was much easier to crank up her stereo and let the music wash over her while she tried to find her old groove.

  * * * *

  Paul stood outside the door with Farley, observing Thorne. She was pale, but she looked a lot better than he’d expected—than she should—after everything she’d been through. He was seeing firsthand just how damn tough she was. There was fragility beneath, though, and a kind of tired resignation that was new and perplexing.

  He looked up when he heard her say, “Christ, Farley, take a fucking picture, why don’t you? You’re giving me the goddamn creeps.”

  But she turned the music down and waved them in, all sassy charm and confidence. The warmth was real. He wasn’t so sure about the confidence.

  Farley was actually blushing. He tried to cover it with a grin and said quickly, “I don’t know, if it wasn’t for your, uh, unusual taste in music, I wouldn’t have been sure it was really you, Thorne. It’s good to see you…Um, I mean, you’re looking good…uh, cute…uh…” He trailed off.

  First blushing and now tongue-tied? Farley? What was his world coming to? Paul sent up a silent prayer that Dagger was still on the phone with Mills, because if he’d picked up on it, it wouldn’t end well for Farley and there’d be another damn mess to clean up.

  Time to step in. “Farley’s right, it is good to see you. We weren’t expecting you back so soon. I thought you and Dagger—”

  “I figured the best way to thank the team for rescuing me was to get my lazy ass back in here. Besides, you can’t expect poor Jack to babysit me forever, can you?”

  What the hell was she talking about? Knowing how he felt about her, Paul was sure Dagger wouldn’t want to do anything but take care of her. Before he could make any sense of her comment, he heard a male voice with a decidedly feminine inflection in the hall.

  “Hello? Hellooo? Is there anyone home? I’m looking for Thorne, she’s supposed to work here.”

  “Back here, Trent!” She hopped up, smiling, and turned off the music altogether.

  Grateful for an interruption that seemed to please her and distract him from more worrying, he nudged Farley further into the room.

  A small man breezed past them, scarf flapping in his wake, breathless and pouring out a rush of words. “Oh, Thorne, there you are! I’ve been worried sick about you. Where on earth have you been? Are you trying to send me to an early grave? Oh, love the hair. Fabulous. But you look too wan to have been vacationing somewhere sunny and warm with that sulking brute—”

  Dagger’s grunt behind him brought the torrent to a halt. Paul guessed it was the first time he’d noticed anyone else was there.

  Farley started talking, and Thorne, obviously knowing the man much better than any of them, managed to pull out a chair in time for him to collapse into it.

  “Kidnapped? That’s terrible! I had no idea.” Trent held his hand to his head. “Oh my, I’m feeling a little faint…”

  “Slow, deep breaths, Trent. I’ll get you some tea.” Thorne was struggling to get her grin under control.

  “No you won’t,” Dagger said without so much as a blink. “You sit down and I’ll get the tea. How do you take it, Trent?”

  “Sweet and blond—like my men, please. Thank you, Jack.” He smiled seductively and winked right at Paul. Then, with an eye toward Dagger’s retreating back, he leaned over to Thorne and said in a loud whisper, “Will wonders never cease. I never figured him for the nurturing type.”

  Before Paul could find his way back from the never-never land where Dagger could possibly know this guy in time to be offended at the wink, Farley murmured to him that it was too bad Mills wasn’t here because he’d have a heart attack. Paul ended up choking on something between hilarity and relief.

  “He just feels sorry for me.” Her words snapped him like a wet towel. If Thorne really thought that…He saw Trent sit back and tilt his head like she’d said something incomprehensible. The perceptive little man had just earned points in Paul’s book.

  Before he had a chance to get to that worrying he’d been trying to get around to, another voice greeted them.

  “Where is everybody? I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d stop by, see how it went with Thorne’s rescue.”

  “Well, if it isn’t Captain America.” Thorne smiled and called out, “Hey Jack, we’re gonna need another chair.”

  “And none the worse for the wear, if I may say so myself.” Luke smiled back at her.

  Paul saw h
is friend studying the fine bones of Thorne’s face, get a little lost in the depth of those big gray eyes and that soft warm smile. When Dagger came back with Trent’s tea in one hand and a chair in the other, Luke gave Dagger the kind of nod that told Paul Luke had a better understanding now of how Dagger had fallen so hard for her.

  Introductions were made and Luke said, “Wait, are you the Trent Dagger mentioned to me that day down at the precinct?”

  “Who’s Dagger?” Trent looked over his shoulder suspiciously.

  “That’d be me.”

  Farley chuckled.

  “Ohhh, Jack. Why is everyone looking at me like that? It’s perfectly acceptable to use monikers when introducing someone, you know, and it might eliminate some of the confusion. Of course, it does seem more apropos than Peaches.”

  The chuckle erupted into a fit that looked like it might knock Farley out of his chair.

  Thorne frowned and looked at Dagger. “Wait, when did you talk to Captain—uh, sorry, Lieutenant—Rigby, Jack?”

  Dagger swallowed like he had glass in his mouth. “That’s where I was that morning when Darmfelder came.”

  “He was reporting the caddy’s disappearance.” Luke put in quickly.

  “The caddy got stolen? How come this is the first I’ve heard of it? You love that gas-guzzling behemoth more than life itself.” Thorne said, still frowning.

  “More important things on my mind.” Dagger said it in a tone that told everyone in the room how he felt about Thorne.

  “Wait, Capt—Lieut—”

  “Just Luke is fine, Thorne.”

  She was fired up about something, that was for sure. She’d missed the most romantic thing Paul was absolutely certain Dagger had ever said in his life.

  “Okay, Luke then.” Thorne grabbed her backpack and dug around in it before pulling out a sandwich baggie and thrusting it into Luke’s hand. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this. Remember the murder I mentioned after Sarah’s kidnapping?”

  “Murder? Another kidnapping? Oh my!” Trent emptied his tea in a big gulp.

  Farley leaned over. “Need something a little stronger in there, Trent? Why don’t you let me freshen that for you?”

  Trent smiled sweetly. “Well, if it wouldn’t be any trouble…Thank you.”

  Luke fingered the baggie. “I take it this is evidence?”

  Thorne shook her head. “Not evidence, exactly, just fingerprints and DNA under those fingernails. The killer’s name is Darryl. I’m sure that if you go back and examine the evidence you have, it’ll match something. I doubt he did it alone, though. He’s a fucking coward. Probably can’t even pee by himself. Oh, and we can prove he was in the area, too. His initials are on the dance game that night at O’Leary’s, two blocks from where William was found. There were plenty of witnesses who saw him enter the same ones just a few weeks ago, including Jack, Paul, and Farley.”

  Farley had just come back with Trent’s tea. “Wait, did I hear that right? Is that why you let that sniveling little prick beat you? Damn, Thorne, I’m glad you’re on our side.”

  Paul smiled. How many times had he thought that before?

  Luke looked over at Thorne. “And you know he’s the killer—how?”

  “How I know things, Luke. Now that you’ve got this stuff, I’m sure you can nail him, right? Now that you know where to look?”

  Trent took a sip of his tea and coughed. Paul got a whiff and wished he had some.

  “William’s murder…” Trent’s voice softened with what was obviously an unpleasant memory. “Officer Griggs wasn’t interested in hearing that it was a hate crime. He made some very personal and inappropriate comments about our relationship, then dismissed me rather summarily.”

  Luke said, “I’ll oversee the research and tests myself. I sure as hell don’t want somebody like that running around my city.” To Trent, he said, “I’m sorry that my officer was less than sensitive to your relationship with the deceased and rejected your information. If it’s any consolation to you, he’s no longer on the force. His prejudices and actions do not reflect department policy. Personally, I kind of wish I’d let Dagger have him.”

  Thorne’s mouth quirked. Then she turned to Trent. “I’m so sorry that you had to hear about it like this, and that I haven’t been to the studio, and that I made you worry about me.”

  “No apology needed, dear. Actually, I…I don’t know how to thank you…for…” He sniffed and pulled out a spotless hanky. When he finished his tea, he smiled gratefully—if a little too widely—at Farley. “You’re as thoughtful as you are handsome.” Then he looked around the room and back to Farley. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know, would you, if there are any normal-sized men in this part of town?”

  When Katherine’s voice wafted through the hall, Paul thought it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

  * * * *

  As everyone cleared out of the office, Dagger held back, wanting to talk to Grace alone. Then his cell rang and she slipped by before he could grab her.

  Distracted by her avoidance and absorbed in the morning’s events, he forgot to check the caller ID.

  “Oh, Joe. Hi.” He bit his lip and swore in his thoughts loud enough that he was afraid his big brother might have heard him all the way in New York.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “…A visit? Joe, nobody comes to Seattle in winter…Well, uh, things are kind of crazy right now…No, I won’t book you a hotel. You can stay at my place…Yup, still in an apartment, Joe. Same place you sent the Christmas card. And uh, thanks. Sorry I didn’t call. Like I said, it’s been kind of…Flight two-sixty-four at two-thirty on Wednesday? I’ll be there…Yup, next week then.” Dagger hung up and swore out loud this time.

  * * * *

  From the sounds in the hall, Thorne gathered that Katherine and Trent knew each other. She tried to duck out before Trent told Katherine—and, much worse, everyone else in the room—how he knew her. But it was already too late.

  Just as she came into the big office, Trent was saying, “Why Katherine, Thorne is a captivating dancer with a truly unique style. Terribly shy, though. I’ve been trying to get her to perform publicly for years.”

  “No fu—” Thorne cut herself off. “Sorry, Katherine. Never gonna happen, Trent.”

  “Oh, I see. For her you watch your language. Me, I get the face of an angel and the mouth of a—”

  “Trent, have you met my husband, Paul?” Katherine made the introduction and turned back to Thorne, who gave her a grateful smile.

  “Oh, Grace? May I call you Grace now?”

  “Sure, Katherine. If you have to.” She sighed and struggled to maintain the smile. Just another sign that things weren’t going to be the same. But it was hardly Katherine’s fault and she did like the woman. “What can I do for you?”

  “Grace is such a lovely name. And before I forget, thank you so much for the lovely scarf. It’s simply perfect. I’d much rather talk about commissioning some of your knitting—perhaps we can arrange some time soon to do that?—but my father mentioned that he’d spoken with a very impatient General Ross and that he’d said something about negotiating patent rights, as soon as you were up to it. For some reason, he wanted me to mention it to you instead of Paul, so I promised I would. You should know he feels terrible about what happened. We all do.”

  “Oh yeah, the patents. I’d forgotten all about that.” Thorne smiled. Feels terrible, does he? “Money’s boring, but negotiating’s fun. I’ll take care of it this afternoon. Thanks, Katherine. And I, ah, don’t know about the ‘commission’ part, but I never turn down an offer to talk about knitting, so yeah, let’s do that. Bye Trent. I’ll be back in the studio in a few days.” She made her good-byes to the rest of the team. “Good luck with that investigation, Luke…Later, Farley…Enjoy your lunch, Katherine, Paul.”

  Poor Paul. Thorne thought he looked kind of overwhelmed, but she figured that probably happened to him a lot, being married to a sophisticated, social woman.
She wondered what it would be like to have someone look at her the way Paul looked at Katherine. She headed back to her office to finish organizing and hopefully get a start on that new comm prototype she’d been working on before Jack made her leave.

  Thorne was stopped cold by the look on Jack’s face when she arrived at her office.

  “What happened? They find your caddy in a wreck or something?”

  “Caddy?” Jack looked confused. “No, that was Joe.”

  “Your brother? That Joe? It can’t be that bad, can it? I mean, it was just a phone call.” She looked at his face again. “I’m sorry, Jack. Did someone die?”

  “No. It’s just…he’s coming for a visit. Next week.”

  “For how long?” She didn’t know why Jack looked so bummed; it would be the perfect way to avoid her, if he didn’t just dump her before Joe got here. Great, now she was bummed, too.

  “He didn’t say. Probably not long. He’s never visited me before. I wonder what’s up.”

  “Maybe he needs money or is getting married and wants you to be the best man.”

  Jack laughed like she’d suggested Trent and Mills would make a cute couple.

  “Joe? Not likely. He’s a successful lawyer, has lots of money. Always was a smooth talker. Got the looks in the family, too. Women fall all over him as bad as Farley. He’ll never settle down, too worried about losing some of his money or missing out on a richer woman. He always wants the one he can’t get. ‘Trading up,’ he calls it.”

  “I guess I’m safe then.” Thorne grinned, trying to chase the frown from Jack’s face.

  But it only deepened. Shit, she’d been right. He was trying to work out a way to dump her before Joe got here.

  * * * *

  Dagger felt another shiver of worry work its way into his gut. Those big dark glasses Grace used to wear had kept her hidden from the world. She’d been his beautiful secret. Not anymore. He hadn’t missed the way that bastard Farley had been ogling her, or that even Luke and Paul treated her differently. Shit, now every man could see how beautiful she was.