Page 22 of Saving Grace

How does this woman put so much stock and trust into someone she barely knows? A little of my annoyance fades. Partially afraid of another round of someone else’s darkness. Mostly grateful I have a roof over my head and a wage. But my gut sinks, clogging my throat, as my eyes burn.

“Grace? Are you still there?”

I suck in a breath, wiping away unshed tears from my eyes. “Yes, still here.”

“Lawson, Mack’s older brother, is coming home for a few days to stay with him. He’ll help you if you need a comrade in arms, so to speak.”

“Backup. That sounds great,” I say, too quietly.

“Sweetheart, I know you have been through it, too. A mother notices those things. We have your back, please know that.”

Now the tears stream down my face freely. “Thank you,” I choke out.

“And when you’re ready to talk about it, any one of us is more than willin’ to listen.”

“Uh huh.” I can’t manage more words.

“Now, deep breath, hon, and get my boy off that damn sofa. He needs sunshine, you hear?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

So, prying the sofa king from his kingdom is going to be a regular occurrence. Yay for me.

“And Grace”—she pulls in a breath—“thank you.”

“Yep.” My words are nowhere to be found.

The line goes dead. I haul air into my lungs like I’ve been drowning and just broke through the water’s surface. It burns and replenishes at the same time. After a moment to fix my hair and dry my face, I cart the groceries inside. Dumping the bags on the counter, I start packing everything away. The TV blares as Mackinlay sits on the sofa, mindlessly flicking through channels.

After all is packed away, I drop on the seat beside him. He startles before giving me another scowl. I do nothing but return the stare, and his brows lower. “What?”

“Lawson is coming to stay. Where do you want him?”

He turns back to the TV, snapping a finger over the remote. The TV goes black. “In New York, where he belongs.” He rises to wobbly feet and stalks down the hall as fast as those crutches can go.

Well, that went well.

Chapter Six

MACK

Addy relays the physio routine to Grace. “He needs to do these exercises three times a day.”

With every word, my babysitter’s face falls. “Are you sure? Because that hasn’t been happening,” she says, worry lining her voice.

Like she fucking cares.

She’s too young to be bothered with me. Too much life to live to be saddled with this shit job. Man-baby sitter. Pay is shit. Patient is an ass. Nope, Grace should make better choices. In another time, another life, where I don’t end up an invalid, she’s damn near perfect. It’s getting harder and harder not to notice.

Those eyes.

Her smile, smell, hair.

Peaches and vanilla.

Long fuckin’ legs for days that get me hard every time I close my eyes. Thinking about those tits is downright improper. Sends me to the brink every time I get close to her. The small noises she makes when she’s concentrating. Like driving into town the other day.

Took everything I had. Every horrible thought I could muster to keep my cock from becoming a raging hard-on, sitting rightnext to her in her tiny tin can car. I tried to make nice, at the car before we ventured into town and again at the gift shop. But everything comes out shit. Everything I touch turns to shit. She should make tracks before she’s sucked into my black hole of existence.

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