Page 84 of Flare Up
* * *
Grant could still see the shadow of fear in her eyes, and even though the most important thing to him was that she’d gotten spooked and hadn’t run—that she’d come to him instead—he wished he could make those shadows disappear.
“Look,” he said, making up his mind. He was going to do what was best for Wren’s peace of mind, no matter what it took. “If you need to run to feel like you’re protecting people you care about—to really feel safe—then we’ll run together. We can go away until they catch this guy.”
Her eyes widened. “And go where?”
“Anywhere. Florida. Alaska. Arkansas. I don’t have a passport, so we can’t leave the country, but I’ll go with you. I love you. I’m going to keep saying that, because it’s true.”
“You said running’s not the answer.”
“I don’t think it is, but if you do and it’s what you need to feel safe, we’ll talk about it.” He grinned. “And you can’t go alone. Even if you won’t let me in your car, I’ll just follow you in my Jeep. We’ve already established I have boundary issues when it comes to you.”
As he intended, she smiled through her tears at the reminder of him making an ass out of himself at their girls’ night out. “I wouldn’t go without you. But if you’re sure everybody’s being careful, then we won’t go at all. I love you and I trust you and I just want to be here with you.”
Then she was moving toward him and he pulled her into his arms. He kissed her, trying to chase the last vestiges of her nightmares away, and then he just held her close. Her arms squeezed him so tightly he could barely breathe, but he didn’t care.
“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” he asked, because he was going to say it all the time now. He never wanted Wren to doubt how he felt about her.
“I won’t ever get tired of hearing that, because I love you, too.” She tilted her head back and smiled up at him. “And I don’t really want to go to Arkansas. I’m sure it’s a perfectly nice state to visit, but I’d rather just go back to bed with you.”
“I can talk in a Southern accent if you want,” he said as he got up and went to turn off the lights, trying to mimic the accents he’d seen on TV. “So you can pretend.”
She laughed, the joyful sound echoing through his apartment. “That was awful. Don’t ever do that again without letting me get my phone to record it first.”
Once they were back in bed, in the dark, Grant stared at the ceiling while Wren slowly drifted off to sleep. He was thankful he’d calmed her fear enough to let her rest, but now he was wide awake.
More than anything, he wanted to get out of bed and go kick over every rock in Boston until he found the one Ben Mitchell was hiding under and make damn sure the asshole would never bother Wren or anybody else Grant cared about ever again.
He wasn’t helpless. Even in his weakened state, he could keep Wren safe if her ex came after her. But sitting and waiting made him feel powerless and he didn’t want this situation dragging on like a black cloud hovering over their lives.
As if sensing his tension in her sleep, Wren stirred, frowning and shifting away from him. Grant forced himself to relax and kissed her hair. Ben Mitchell’s day would come, and Grant would do the smart, responsible thing and focus on Wren instead of trying to bait the guy out of hiding.
All that mattered was the woman in his arms. She loved him and she’d trusted him enough to come to him with her fear so they could work through it together. There may be a wolf at the door, but he wasn’t getting in tonight. And no matter what, he would never come between them again.
* * *
For two days, Wren and Grant hung out in his apartment, eating takeout and watching movies. She wasn’t ready to make any big decisions about her employment yet, so she called in still-sick to the salon and told the market she was okay, but the emergency was ongoing. The lie made her feel guilty, but she wasn’t ready to face the world just yet.
And since Grant was out on medical leave until they ran Mitchell to ground, they were taking lazy to a whole new level. He was feeling a lot better, and starting to get antsy about being confined. And on day three, she admitted to herself she was getting bored.
She did her best not to think about Ben but sometimes, when it was quiet or Grant was sleeping, she couldn’t help it. It was hard, trusting in the system to take care of him, but she trusted Grant. When the fear started taking hold, she told him—even if she had to wake him up—and when he held her and told her they were safe, she allowed herself to believe him.
But something would have to change soon. They both needed to get back to work and start living the normal life they were going to build together. Yesterday had been hard on Grant because his crew worked without him. And tomorrow would be worse, because St. Patrick’s Day was an all-hands-on-deck kind of day for the city, and he’d be sitting it out.
“I think we watched this movie yesterday,” Wren said, frowning at the television. They were curled up on the couch because it was raining and cold and there was nothing out in the world they needed that badly. “I know we did. The jousting and the dancing and rock music.”
“But it’s a great movie. It’s this, talk shows or reruns of cop shows.”
“It really is a good movie.”
But when he started saying the dialogue along with the characters, she elbowed him in the ribs. “Stop that. It’s annoying, and just how many times have you seen this movie, anyway?”
“As often as I can.” He nuzzled her neck. “Let’s dance, you and I.”
“I don’t think that’s what he means when he says that.”
“I’m going off-script.” He pulled her closer and nipped at her earlobe. “I’d probably be censored on TV, though.”
