Finding Grace Page 21

  The thought scared the hell out of him. He wished he knew what she was afraid of. After last night, he knew it wasn’t sex. He’d used every ounce of self-control and borrowed against a future need in an effort to be slow and gentle. It had damned near killed him. Saint-fucking-Whoever couldn’t have gone slow with that woman. No, sex wasn’t the problem. But she was definitely edgy about something.

  * * * *

  Her behavior over the next couple of days only confused him more. Their lovemaking was great. She was just how he liked her—hungry, insatiable, even. He didn’t push the light issue. Now that he understood she felt safer that way, it didn’t bother him any more. But the rest of the time, she acted kind of distant.

  He could have sworn he heard her whisper that she loved him last night, but this morning, she was chillier than ever. When she insisted on going to the studio for a workout, he gave up trying to talk her out of it.

  * * * *

  Dagger winced. That had to have hurt. Grace had slipped and landed hard on her knee. “Goddamn it, Trent, I told her it was too soon. Why the fuck won’t she listen to me?”

  They both watched her pull off her blindfold and wrap her knee. She tried the move three more times successfully before moving on with her routine. She spent more time than usual at the punching bag.

  Trent tapped his index finger on his lip and said, “Uh, Jack, have you ever told Thorne how you feel about her? Or do you just try to boss her around all the time? She’s terribly fragile, you know, and obviously goes to great lengths to protect herself. If she’s got it in her head that you’re just friends—how do they say it these days?—uh, with benefits…well, it won’t be easy to convince her otherwise.”

  Dagger looked back at Grace just in time to see one of the large clubs coming right toward her face. He let out a yell and her hand reached out at the last moment to catch it before tossing it high again, only to catch another as she came up from the roll. She was going to give him a heart attack.

  In the meantime, though, what if Trent was right and that’s why she’d been so twitchy? He could lose her. And that was just not an option. Shit. It was time he put up or shut up before someone else did. He was damn close to blinding Farley as it was. There was no help for it. He’d have to go on that mission Grace had got him to thinking about the morning Joe called. He’d do it this afternoon.

  * * * *

  “Nah, this is a company vehicle. The caddy got stolen before Christmas. That’s what I get for driving it in winter and leaving it out overnight in a lousy neighborhood.”

  “Why the hell would you do that, Jack? I thought you loved that car. Didn’t you just get it restored? Cost a bundle, if I recall.”

  “I never told you how much it cost, Joe. Knew you’d just give me shit.” He wanted to tell his brother about Grace, but he didn’t think this part of the conversation would be very good timing. He might not be smooth like Joe, but he’d like to think he wasn’t stupid, either.

  Dagger pulled up in front of his apartment building and parked. They took the elevator, walked down the hall, and he unlocked the door and let Joe in first. The place looked great, thanks to Grace.

  She’d offered to help him clean and air it out yesterday and then seemed surprised when he’d taken her up on it. She took everything the wrong way lately. It was getting so he was afraid to say anything. Joe’s timing sucked. He could only hope that it didn’t screw things up with her.

  “It’s nothing like your place, I’m sure, Joe. But I call it home. You’ll be in the first room on the left. I’ll go put your bags up.” While I remind myself, again, that it’s only for a few days.

  He heard Joe’s voice through the hall. “Home? Really? This place looks about as personal as a hotel room, Jack. Nice stereo and TV, though. Actually, the whole place is a lot nicer than I was expecting.”

  Back in the living room, Dagger said, “What do you mean by that, Joe? Did you think I lived in a dump? I’m a full partner at Blackridge, you know.” Christ, already Joe was starting with the shit.

  “Hey, no need to go on the defensive, bro’. You said the caddy got stolen out of a bad neighborhood, so what was I supposed to expect? There’s just not a lot here that says anything about you, other than questionable taste in music and great taste in electronics. I’m going to grab a beer. Can I get you one?”

  “Sounds good.” Dagger thanked God for beer and Grace for reminding him to stock more.

  She was probably still clothes shopping. When he’d told her this afternoon that he wanted her to meet his brother, she’d acted surprised again. Hell, she’d almost flipped her office chair when he suggested dinner and then a club for some music after. Something about nothing to wear. They were going to pick her up at her apartment. He couldn’t wait to hear what Joe would have to say about that place.

  They sipped their beers in silence for a few minutes before Dagger said, “Say Joe, I was thinking we’d go out tonight. There’s someone I want you to meet.” He couldn’t help smiling. “We’ll be leaving to pick her up in a half hour. Maybe stop in at the office after that, show you around. Reservations aren’t till seven.” Keep moving, less time for personal conversation and dire judgments from Joe.

  “A girlfriend? Wow, Jack. I didn’t think you did relationships.”

  “Girlfriend?” Dagger frowned. He’d never liked that word and it didn’t fit here, either. “She’s special, Joe, really special.”

  * * * *

  Thorne was torn between wishing she had a mirror and being thankful she didn’t. The women at the stores she’d shopped at had been kind and helpful, but she’d never put an outfit together before. She’d never had to get ready for something like this.

  The scars the hot pink, full-body leotard didn’t hide, the leather choker with matching cuffs took care of nicely. But the little black lace t-shirt she was wearing over it was kind of tight and the black leather skirt was awfully short. She’d even bought some lipstick after trying on about a hundred shades. And she’d practiced walking in the high-heeled ankle boots until she thought she could manage it. They might even be fun to dance in. Jack had mentioned a club.

  She should be prepared for any kind of place Jack was likely to take her. She wasn’t at all prepared to meet his brother, and she didn’t like considering what it meant that Jack wanted her to. There was no point in getting her hopes up. It was entirely possible and more than likely that he just intended to use her to make Joe uncomfortable. He obviously wasn’t looking forward to seeing his brother, so why else would he want him to meet her?

  Just the same, she was downright terrified she was going to screw up whatever his intentions were. It would have been nice if he’d given her a clue, but that was so not Jack.

  Shit, she was dwelling again. Obsessing, actually.

  A nervous little breath escaped her when she heard their voices in the hall. She put her knitting down and listened. Joe’s wasn’t as deep and sexy as Jack’s, and there was no trace of the warm Georgia accent. It took two knocks before she realized the sound was more than just her heart pounding.

  She opened the door and Jack looked her up and down. He said, “Whoa, Grace, you look…wow.”

  Was that wow good? Or wow I-don’t-want-to-be-seen-with-you? He just stood there staring at her. Shit. What was she supposed to do now?

  Oh, yeah. “Why don’t you two come in while I grab my coat.”

  She stepped back and motioned them in, trying not to be more self-conscious about her apartment than she already was about her outfit.

  Jack was still staring at her and his voice sounded funny when he said, “Uh, Grace, this is my brother, Joe. Joe, this is Grace.”

  Joe, at least, was easy to read. His flickering glance spoke volumes of disdain and his smile was barely more than a sneer when he said, “Delighted, I’m sure.”

  Thorne mustered a smile and offered him her hand anyway. He was Jack’s brother. “Nice to meet you, Joe. Um, I’ll just grab my coat.”

  Her fin
gers grazed the super-soft fake fur of the brand new zebra-striped coat in her closet, and she wished she could bury herself in it.

  Jack seemed to agree. He couldn’t get it around her fast enough or tie the belt around her snug enough. Well, at least that answered the wow question. He hated her outfit.

  * * * *

  “I’ll just be in my office, if you don’t mind. I’m sure you guys will want to talk for a while.” And give me a break from all of this tension.

  The air had been so swamped with it on the way there that Thorne had damned near drowned. It didn’t help that she couldn’t tell how much of it was hers and how much of it was between Jack and his brother. She bolted for her office and ran headlong into Farley.

  “Wait now.” He held her back by her shoulders and looked her up and down. “My, my, who do we have here? Can’t be. Are those legs, Thorne? Nice ones, too.” He let out a low wolf-whistle. “Mmm. Now give me a peek at what you’ve got under that coat.”

  Thorne blushed even though she knew he was just trying to make her feel pretty. They’d all been like that since she got back, since they knew. They’d been nicer to her, but at least not openly, unbearably, pitying. She sighed and let the coat slide down her arms before tossing it to her chair from the hallway. It was awfully warm.

  “Farley, you spend a lot of time with girlie-girls, right? Be honest. Is this too…? Am I…? Did I pull it off okay?” She did a slow turn and stopped with her hands on her hips, wearing the most self-assured smile she could scrounge up, and held her breath. The way his mouth was open but not answering made her regret asking, so she just followed her coat into her office and tried to shut the door and slink under her desk in shame.

  But the door bounced off the foot he’d stuck in it.

  “Holy fucking hell, yes, you pulled it off. No wonder Dagger’s been keeping you all to himself. Shit, Thorne, you’re hotter than a Las Vegas sidewalk in July.” Turning his head, he called, “Hey Markham, Hawks, Mills, come take a look at what we got here. You’re never gonna believe this.”

  Surrounded by them like she was, Thorne almost didn’t see Jack come in. He must have overheard what Farley said, because he was looking at him like he was considering different ways to end the man’s life. He’d been acting overprotective lately, sure, but that was partly his nature and partly part of his idea of taking care of her until he thought she was ready to be dumped. One part of a whole lot more she was going to miss terribly.

  Jack growled, “What the fuck are you all doing here?”

  He must have forgotten about the late meeting Paul had called for the team. They took one look at him, mumbled apologies and took a step back, even if they did keep right on gawking. Shit, she couldn’t believe she’d bought Farley’s line. The way they were staring, she had to look like a complete dork. No wonder Jack wanted to hide her.

  Then Paul said, “You look great, Thorne. I wish Katherine could see you,” and kissed her cheek.

  Great? Paul had never lied to her before. The man was painfully honest.

  “I don’t know Paul, it’s not like anything she’d ever wear.”

  “No, it isn’t. But it suits you just fine.”

  Well, if she were to believe Paul, that meant that even if everyone was staring at her like she was the dorkiest dork ever, at least she looked like herself. She couldn’t decide whether that was reassuring or not. If she didn’t stop biting her lip soon, there’d be a hole in it.

  She caught Paul’s grin when he said, “So Dagger, where are you and Joe taking our little angel this evening?”

  It was the sort of grin someone wore when they were indulging in a private joke. That was definitely not reassuring.

  But when Jack said, “Terrelli’s. We have reservations for seven, so we’d better get going,” she went from not-very-reassured to scared witless before she could take another breath.

  She let out a wail, “Terrelli’s! Goddamnit, Jack, you could have fucking warned me. Never in a million years would I have guessed Terrelli’s. I can’t walk into Terrelli’s dressed like this! You have to wear one of those little black dresses to a place like that. Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and all the angels on a bloody hat pin, Jack, I can’t wear something like that.” Not with these damn scars. No place to hide them in one of those.

  Now she knew Jack had invited her to scare Joe off. He had to have known she’d freak out over this, and he knew how she was when she freaked out. It had worked, too. Joe’s reaction was again easy to read—thoroughly stunned and more than a little appalled. It was reassuring in its believability. Well, she’d been nothing if not effective. Good plan, Jack. And I was so predictable you didn’t even have to clue me in.

  But Farley must have noticed the look on Joe’s face, too, and taken exception to it. “What you have to understand about all this fuss, see,” he said with one of his perfect smiles, “is that up until a few weeks ago, we thought Thorne was one of the boys.

  “Now I can hear you asking yourself how could we have thought that—looking at this sweet thing standing here, I’ve been asking myself the same thing. It’s like this, see: Thorne was always wearing these big dark glasses and butt-ugly loose men’s clothes. And then, of course, there’s that mouth you just got a sample of. Besides that, she can fight. You just ask those limping dickwads of Major Darmfelder’s if you can find their yellow asses. By the way, Thorne, honey, have the twins here tell you about the welcome mat Dagger had them arrange for the major in Fargo last week.” Turning back to Joe, Farley went on. “Anyway, looking at her tonight…well, now, it’s probably just as hard for us to understand how we were ever fooled as it is for you.” His smile was teasing, reassuring.

  “Never fooled me,” Mills snorted.

  “Yeah, right, that’s why you made such a big deal about Thorne being a fag.” Markham pointed out dryly.

  Even in her damn near altered state of freak, she could tell that the guys were, in their own way, defending her from Joe’s disdain. They obviously weren’t aware of Jack’s intentions.

  To let them know she appreciated their efforts, she said, “God, don’t you assholes ever know when to shut up?” And gave them her sweetest smile.

  Then she remembered the second part of what Farley had said. A blessed distraction. “Wait. Welcome mat? Jack, you promised!” Good, she’d managed that without uttering a single expletive, even if she was still shouting.

  Okay, next step: tone down the volume.

  She slid closer to Jack and whispered in his ear, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to screech at you, unless that’s what you wanted. I’m so confused and nervous I can’t think straight. Would you like me to rent a tux really quick or something? Or should I just have Farley give me a ride home? And, uh, I think Joe may have swallowed his tongue.”

  Jack’s arm around her tightened and he whispered back, “What? Why would I want you to…You’re not going anywhere, especially not with goddamn Farley. As far as Joe goes, I hope he did swallow it. I like him better this way. And Grace, you’d be the most beautiful woman in the restaurant, no matter what you wore.” His voice rumbled in her ear before the hammering of blood in her ears started.

  There was just no way she could have heard that last part right.

  * * * *

  Dagger gave himself shit all the way to Terrelli’s. Grace was right; it wasn’t his kind of place at all. He’d never even been there before, had just heard that the food was good, and expensive. It sucked that, after all these years, he still wanted to impress his brother. And worse, he’d made Grace uncomfortable trying.

  The stunning red car waiting for a valet in front of the restaurant distracted him from his miserable self-examination. “Wow, Joe, look at that! A Ferrari Testarossa. Too bad they don’t make those anymore.” He couldn’t help sighing.

  “Sure, Jack, it would make a nice replacement for the caddy.” Dagger heard the sarcasm dripping from the back seat of the Escalade.

  “Do you think it has an iPod interface or at least a CD playe
r? The old behemoth was short on pertinent amenities, if you ask me,” Grace said in her serious, thoughtful tone while she looked the car over with that intent way she had.

  Joe’s laugh was loud. “Nobody buys a Ferrari for the sound system, baby.”

  “So you want it just because it’s pretty?” She was biting her lip again. She’d been doing that a lot lately. It would be cute, if it didn’t make him think that she might be worrying about something she wasn’t talking about.

  “Pretty? Baby, that car is sex on wheels. Women just can’t resist a man with that much power in his hands.”

  A glance in the rearview mirror revealed the expected flash of Joe’s perfect white teeth.

  A glance at Grace’s mouth was less irritating, but more troubling.

  Shit. He’d gotten her past the whole dressed-wrong thing—which he could at least understand—but how was he going to get her past this when he didn’t even know what was wrong? He didn’t have any more smooth lines. Hell, he didn’t have any smooth lines. He’d only said she’d be the most beautiful woman in the restaurant because it was a simple fact that she would be the most beautiful woman any place.

  He said, “Shut up, Joe,” because that was a no-brainer.

  Then he said, “Driving that Ferrari would be a hell of a lot more fun than driving this Escalade, or even the caddy,” because it was the truth. Contrary to what his big brother had led him to believe about women, the truth had always worked with Grace.

  “Oh, I get it now. Like knitting wool with super smooth needles. It’s almost like flying.”

  He risked a glance to make sure she wasn’t yanking his chain.

  Nope, serious as an ATF intelligence report. He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss, only because the valet was coming their way and he didn’t have time for a longer one.

  * * * *

  The low hum of background noise in the restaurant went quiet as the maître d’ led them to their table. Dagger couldn’t help wincing inwardly. Another thing he should have thought of when he picked this place. If he could silence O’Leary’s, what had he expected here?