Fall Into You (15 page)

“Is everything okay?”

Grant backed away from the car, making sure not to touch anything else, and gave Charli,
who’d poked her head around the corner of the building, a wary look. This was getting
completely out of hand. This was more than someone trying to scare Charli. Someone
was trying to
harm
her. And that shit was completely unacceptable. He wanted to grab her, put her in
his car, and not let her out of his
sight again until he could personally maim and dismember whoever the fucker was.

Even monitoring Charli this closely, he’d barely had time to step in before she’d
gotten into the car with some kidnapping psychopath. Whispers of the night someone
had broken into his and Rachel’s home prodded at his mind.
No. Don’t go there
. He swallowed past the panicky, choking feeling that always accompanied the memory.
He didn’t have time to have a freak-out. Charli needed him operating at a hundred
percent.

Time for a new plan.

Charli wanted training? Well, she was about to get the session of a lifetime.

He tucked his gun back in his waistband. “We better call the cops, freckles. I thought
someone wanted to steal your car, but it looks like someone wants to steal
you
.”

Charli sat on Grant’s couch, trying to rub the chill from her arms, but the too-cold
feeling wouldn’t go away. She stared out the front window, watching the rays of late-afternoon
sun slant over the front yard. Someone had been hiding in the backseat of her car.
If Grant hadn’t been there…well, she couldn’t stop thinking about the what-ifs. It
had been stupid to go off on her own just to prove a point. She’d started to believe
the threat wasn’t real, that everyone had been overreacting. But now she was thanking
the heavens that her brother had a paranoid streak and that Grant was so relentless
in his mission.

“You sure the guy you were meeting with wasn’t setting you up? Couldn’t he have tipped
off someone?” Grant asked as he walked out of the kitchen and handed her a steaming
cup of coffee.

She took it from him, warming her hands against the mug. “I don’t think so. Rodney
was taking a big chance talking to me. He told me in not so many words that he was
paid cash from boosters
during his first two years at Dallas U. before he blew out his knee. If that came
out and was proved to be true, the NCAA wouldn’t just sanction the college, they’d
do a full investigation on the current program. A program that is heading toward the
national championship this year, by the way.”

“So I’ve heard,” he said dryly. “They beat my Longhorns to the ground a few weekends
ago.”

“Your defense sucks. They beat themselves.”

Grant frowned at her, then apparently decided to wave off a football debate. Wise
move. She’d win. “But this Rodney guy refused to give you an official statement. Seems
kind of shady to me, like he was using that info as bait to get you out there.”

She shook her head and tucked her legs beneath her. “That’s not what my gut’s telling
me. I think he was being honest. But he’s got kids now and putting his name out there
as a snitch—well, it’s dangerous. You know how people are about football around here.”

Grant sat down on the couch across from her, his mouth set in that way that told her
he was making plans without her input. “Yeah. I do know. It
is
dangerous. Which is why you’re going to back off for a while.”

She halted mid-sip. “The hell I am. Today proved how important it is to break this
story. We just need to take extra precautions.”

“Charli, this is not a negotiation,” he said, his tone slipping into that dominant
space he’d used with her the other day. “Your brother told me to keep you safe, and
I intend to do that. But I can’t keep doing it from a distance. This story isn’t going
anywhere. You need to cool your heels and let whoever is after you think that they
were successful in scaring you off.”

The chill she’d been trying so hard to chase off disappeared in a rush of angry heat.
“
Cool my heels
? Grant, that’s not how this works. I’m a reporter. This is what I do.”

“And I’m former CIA. When your cover is blown, you have to
back off for a while or send someone else in. You’re blinking bright red on someone’s
radar right now.”

She groaned; of course he’d been a government operative. That explained a lot. “I’m
not going to let them chase me off. I need this story.”

“Why, Charli? Why do you
need
this story?” He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs. “What is so important
about it that you’d be willing to risk your goddamn life to get it?”

She started to open her mouth to speak, to give the knee-jerk reaction that wanted
to come out, but she knew nothing she said would be the real truth. Yes, she believed
that what was happening was wrong. Yes, she believed cheaters should be punished.
But that burning, desperate drive to get this story as soon as possible had nothing
to do with some reporter champion-of-the-truth moral code. This was about proving
something to herself, to the mother who had walked out on her, and to everyone who
ever told her she couldn’t do it. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, really? Try me,” he said, leaning back and using the same words she’d thrown
at him in the kitchen two days ago. Despite her frustration with him, her body’s sensors
perked at the memory.

She shifted on the couch and sighed. “I need to do more than I’m doing now. I didn’t
get into this field to sit behind a computer gathering research for some other reporter’s
piece. If I can land this story, there’s no way they won’t give me a promotion to
an investigative reporter.”

“Is that really the job you want?”

She stared down at her coffee. “No, I want the anchor position. But apparently I’m
not good on camera.”

“And those idiots who told you that must be touched in the head,” he said, a thread
of anger weaving through his tone. “You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman. Yes, maybe
you’re a little rough around the edges with your approach, but that’s something that
can
be refined. And if they can’t see your potential, then I don’t know if they deserve
to have you anyway.”

Charli looked up, startled by the conviction behind his words.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, his drawl thickening as he got more fervent about whatever
ideas were churning in his head. “You take some time off from chasing this story,
try to do most of your other work from here for a while, and I’ll take you on as my
trainee. I usually require my trainees to stay here full-time for the month. But I
know you can’t take off that long, so give me two weeks. I’ll make sure that when
you walk in for that anchor audition, they won’t be able to pick their jaws up off
the floor. You’ll be so damned polished they’ll have to put on sunglasses to shield
themselves from the glare.”

She stared at him, then couldn’t help it, she laughed. “You may be a little overconfident
in your abilities there, cowboy. I’m a quick learner, but there’s a lifetime of tomboy
in here. Don’t think two weeks is going to cure me of it.”

The corner of his mouth tilted up, drawing his dimple out. “I don’t want to cure you
of it, freckles. But I also know that if you give me a little time, I’ll show you
how much woman is in there, too.”

The promise in his statement and the look he gave her had her swallowing hard. “What
exactly would I be signing up for? Obviously, the other day was a disappointment for
you.”

A crease formed between his brows. “You think I was disappointed in you? Darlin’,
I can’t get you or that damn afternoon outta my head. I’ve barely gotten anything
else done because you’re so…distracting.”

She looked down at her hands, trying to hide how much his words relieved her. After
leaving his place, she’d been convinced she must have done something wrong.

“I was pissed at myself. I hammer into my members the rules of safe, sane, and consensual
play. And here I am hitting a vanilla girl who’s never played before with a belt,
not even knowing anything about your limits.”

She ran a finger around the rim of her coffee mug, not daring to look at him. “It
was fine. You didn’t hit me that hard.”

“Yeah, but what if you’d had an abusive childhood where you were beaten with a belt
and I had triggered that trauma for you? Or what if you had a former injury I needed
to be aware of? It was irresponsible on my part, and I’m sorry.”

She glanced up, surprised by the deep sincerity in his voice. “I didn’t have an abusive
childhood. And…” She attempted an it’s-no-big-deal shrug. “I kind of liked the belt,
for what it’s worth.”

“Is that right?” he asked, a devious smirk forming. “Duly noted. Maybe you’re not
as vanilla as I thought.”

She didn’t know what to do with that observation, wasn’t sure what the hell was going
on with her at this point. All she knew was that for the last two days, she hadn’t
been able to close her eyes without replaying the way Grant had handled her, the sharp
way her body had reacted to his touch and words. She hadn’t been able to go to sleep
either night without sliding her hand beneath the band of her pajama bottoms, touching
herself and imagining it was Grant’s fingers and tongue instead. Her panties were
damp already simply sharing the room with him.

She set her mug down and fiddled with the sleeve of her shirt, hoping her neck wasn’t
as pink as it felt. Damn redheaded complexion. “What do you suggest for training?”

“You sure you’re serious about really trying this with me?” he asked. “Because I’m
not good at doing anything halfway.”

Boy howdy, had she learned that. “Yes. Lay it on me. What do you propose?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, looking resolute and foreboding. “For two weeks,
when you’re not working, you’re all mine.”

She wet her lips, her nerves starting to take root and bloom. “Meaning?”

“I’ll
own
you, Charli.”

Charli had never been to a spa before. Her beauty regime usually consisted of a quick
split-end trim in the salon at her gym with an occasional deep conditioner. For a
rare treat, she’d spring for a pedicure. But today she had the feeling she was going
to experience a whole other side of the rigors of beautification.

Kelsey was sitting in the zen-style waiting room when Charli walked in, looking vastly
different than she had the first time Charli had seen her. The catsuit and expertly
applied makeup had been replaced by jeans, a soft white sweater, and a bare face that
was really unfairly beautiful. If not for the world-weary glint Charli had seen in
her eyes the other night, Kelsey could pass for a college student.

Kelsey looked up from the magazine she’d been reading and broke into a smile. “Hey
there. Guess you didn’t get lost this time?”

Charli pulled the note Grant had left on her counter that morning from her pocket
and held it up. “Grant gives good directions.”

She cocked an eyebrow and her grin turned conspiratorial. “I bet he does.”

Charli shoved the note back in her pocket, trying to cover up her instinctive, awkward
reaction at Kelsey knowing exactly what she and Grant were doing. Being open about
sex was going to take some getting used to. She’d grown up in a household where even
the mention of her period had set her dad into a stuttering, bumbling mess. Any talk
of sex would’ve probably made his poor head explode. An appointment card for the women’s
health center had just magically appeared on her bedside table the day after she’d
turned sixteen. “No comment.”