Long Way Home (11 page)

Callen saw Grace right as she stepped onto the sidewalk in front of Rosie’s Diner. Despite some subtle prodding, Leah refused to cough up much information about Grace’s schedule and whereabouts. When he tried to collect a stray comment here or there, Leah treated him to gems like “Maybe you should try talking to Grace yourself.”

Really not helpful, except she did mention in passing something about Grace needing to find an apartment before she turned into a grilled cheese from Rosie’s due to eating one every day. Which was the only explanation for him leaning against his car in front of the place this afternoon instead of working at Shadow Hill like he should be doing.

She put her hand on the door handle, then glanced over her shoulder at him. A quick double take came next. Spinning on the heel of her scuffed cowboy boots, she headed right for him. Between the frown and the narrowed eyes, she didn’t look all that happy to see him.

That would teach him to run from a woman’s bed with his ass on fire. Not that he didn’t have a reason, but from her perspective it had to seem like a fuck-and-run, which made him the biggest dick on the planet.

“What are you doing out here?” She stopped right in front of him. Didn’t sound all that happy to see him either.

The temptation to push away from the car, kiss her, bundle her in the backseat and drive her somewhere private so he could strip her bare almost overwhelmed him. God knew the good people of Sweetwater would love seeing that sort of thing. They’d talk about it for months.

She folded her arms across her stomach. The move had his gaze bouncing down to her waist. He could barely make out the bump. The long blue shirt and cardigan hung loose over her sexy body, but he noticed everything about her and was especially primed right now, while the need to talk hung between them.

“I came looking for you.” It was the truth, so he went with it.

“Why?”

Yeah, didn’t look like as if she was in the mood to give him one inch. “That talk we need to have.”

“I thought maybe Declan sent you.”

Callen didn’t expect her to drop his brother’s name. It sent his thoughts scattering. “I don’t know what that means.”

She moved to stand next to him, leaning against the car and facing the diner as the lunch crowd shuffled in and out. “He came to see me this morning.”

“What?” Callen tore his gaze away from the guy in the front booth who kept staring at him.

“Wanted to test my intentions.” Callen opened his mouth to protest or yell—something—and Grace stopped him with the back of her hand pressed against his chest. “Don’t get all blustery. I bet you did the same thing and got right in the middle of his relationship with Leah.”

Callen really couldn’t deny that charge, so he didn’t try. Still, some things that happened around the dinner table should stay there. “Did she tell you that?”

“She called to apologize after Declan came clean to her about his visit with me at the motel.”

“She’s going to kick his ass.” Callen didn’t exactly hate that plan.

“She mentioned that.”

“If she does then I won’t have to.”

Callen wasn’t sure how he felt about Declan messing around in his personal life. A year ago shit like that would have sent Callen into a rage, complete with lectures about privacy and all that. Now, after months of hanging around his brothers, he saw getting in each other’s business as a necessity. Certainly not invasive.

And God knew he’d pushed his way into both of his brothers’ personal lives without thinking twice. For him, it was about caring. He suspected Declan’s visit to Grace came from the same place.

“Declan is worried about you,” Grace said.

That struck Callen as overkill. “About what?”

“Apparently you weren’t very happy by the time you got home last night.”

A group of businessmen walked up. Their talking drowned out the street noise and the tapping of their shoes against the concrete. Callen waited until they had passed and filed inside the diner to continue.

He lowered his voice, though he wasn’t a hundred percent sure why, since no one was standing right next to them. “That’s not true.”

Because, really,
unhappy
wasn’t the right word to describe what he was feeling.
Stunned and struck with a case of sudden paralysis
sounded closer. The reality of Grace not only being pregnant but coming to find him rather than running as fast as she could in the opposite direction confused the hell out of him. With all they’d been through, including the drinking and the fighting, it was nothing short of a miracle that she stood here.

Logical arguments refused to stay in his mind. All the reasons why this couldn’t happen bombarded his brain, even though he knew what he thought should happen and what was happening were two very different things.

He hadn’t even let his mind stop for two seconds to think about the real issue: an actual baby was coming, regardless of how long he needed to get used to the idea.

She held up her hands. “
Unhappy
was Declan’s word, not mine. I’m not judging, merely repeating.”

Oh, Callen heard her tone, and remembered her pained expression as he headed for the door last night. “Maybe a little judging?”

“Possibly a tiny bit.” She balanced the bottom of her boots against the edge of the sidewalk. “You did all but leave skid marks behind when you raced down the hall and out of the motel.”

“It wasn’t the sex.” That seemed obvious, but he thought he needed to be clear.

She tilted her head, and her hair fell over her shoulder. If he reached out, he could run the smooth strands through his fingers. One brisk wind and it would blow on him. They stood that close.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” She shot him a quick smile. “I was there for that part, and you seemed fine.”

More like on fire and reeling from how fast she went to his head. “Understatement.”

“That’s good to know.”

“It was what I realized right after.”

Her feet fell flat and she stood up straight. “What are you—”

“I see you don’t take good advice when it’s offered.” Marc Baron popped up over her shoulder.

Callen didn’t hesitate. He had only one answer for this jackass. “Leave.”

“Callen.” Grace’s eyes narrowed, and she sent him a be-respectful glare.

Because she didn’t know. No one knew the truth but Marc, Leah, the Hanover brothers and a handful of others.

Grace looked and saw the wiry frame and slightly stooped shoulders, the somewhat fragile body type and the gray hair, and probably thought Marc qualified as a nice man from town. Callen knew better. This guy was a hundred and sixty pounds of pure lying hypocrite. A fucking asshole who treated his daughter like dirt and Declan like a felon.

Callen despised the guy for the last two most of all.

For years Marc had stoked his hate for the Hanover family. He insisted the sons followed in the footsteps of their father and turned Leah into a full-time Hanover hater. Marc talked a good game about how Grandma Nanette “stole” his house. He was pretty invested in the story. True, he lost the house after he lost the money as part of Charlie’s first-ever scam, this one against the back accounts of Sweetwater, but Marc was also Charlie’s secret partner in that deal and spent his entire life burying the trail.

Declan uncovered the truth and it nearly destroyed Leah. Not that Marc cared what his choices did to his wife, now dead, and his daughter, from whom he was estranged. But Callen cared. He loved Leah like a sister and hated seeing her ripped apart and missing the father she thought she knew.

“I told you to get out before this family sucked you in.” Marc practically spit when he talked. His hatred stayed right at the surface and shot out of him with every word.

Something in the tone or the fury whipping around him must have registered, because Grace moved a few steps closer to Callen. “Clearly you two have an issue.”

No matter what Grace said and all the protestations about not being in the FBI or having him under surveillance, Callen knew she’d dug around in his life. That didn’t mean she knew everything.

He filled her in on the basics. “This is Leah’s dad.”

“Really?” Grace’s face softened and a smile lightened her face. “Leah is lovely. Very warm and inviting and—”

“You’d like her better if she left that house.”

Grace’s smile disappeared. “Excuse me?”

“And that piece of garbage she’s sleeping with.” Marc swore under his breath, then increased the volume. A couple walking behind him gave him wide berth.

Spouting off or not, that comment was the one step too far. Try to pin bogus charges on him and drag him to jail, fine. Callen could deal with that. Mess with Declan . . . no.

Callen took a threatening step forward, putting Grace just behind his right shoulder and aiming all his pent-up fury in Marc’s direction. “You have two seconds to go away.”

Marc threw out his arms in a gesture that could only be described as
bring it
and talked even louder. “What are you going to do to me?”

Callen knew Marc had a heart condition. He’d used his health and history of heart attacks to blackmail Leah into staying close. That worked until she found out the role he played in the con he held up as the reason the Hanover family needed to be run out of town. Calling her mother a whore for falling for Charlie’s sick flirting hadn’t helped his case either.

While Callen thought about ways to shut this whole scene down, Grace actually tried to do so. She reached out to Marc, but he shrunk away from her.

“Let’s calm down,” she said.

Almost on cue, Chef Darber appeared out of nowhere. One second people parted on the sidewalk to take the long way around the arguing group. The next Darber stepped out of the diner, still holding what looked like a third of a chicken salad sandwich.

“Is there a problem here, Marc?” he asked his friend of more than three decades.

“Just a Hanover causing trouble, as usual.”

Before Callen could say anything, Grace shifted and stepped right in front of him like a human shield. “Now wait a minute. That’s not true.”

“Why don’t we go inside and have a seat?” Chief Darber lifted the sandwich, then lowered it again without taking a bite. “We can talk this through.”

If Darber thought his calm voice of authority would break this up, he was dead wrong. Grace did not cede one inch. “Not while your friend is lying.”

“Uh, Grace.” Impressed but not willing to give the whole town a show, Callen put his hand on her shoulder and gave a little squeeze. “It’s okay. I’ve got this.”

“This man came up and started talking negatively about the Hanovers and his own daughter,” Grace raged on, causing more and more onlookers to gather and listen in. Then she turned on Marc. “You should be ashamed, by the way. She is charming, and she loves Declan.”

Marc didn’t back down either. If anything, he stood up straighter, and his cheeks flushed red. “He’s going to drag her down to the gutter with him.”

Callen would have gone off, would have lost his fucking mind, but the soft touch of Grace’s hand on his outer thigh calmed him right back down.

“Declan seems like a good guy to me,” she said, clearly trying to defend Declan and tweak Marc a bit at the same time.

“I gave you solid advice.” Marc poked Grace in the shoulder. “If you’re too stupid to take it—”

That was it. Callen didn’t care if he got arrested. No one touched Grace without her consent. And the name-calling? No fucking way.

The chief got there first. He grabbed his friend’s arm and dropped the sandwich in the process. Pulling Marc back, Chief Darber lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “Marc, settle down right now.”

“See!” Grace turned around, gesturing toward the crowd that had gathered. “Other people watched him launch the first verbal volley Callen, and now we have this.”

“Maybe we should bring in that FBI agent and let him settle this once and for all.” Marc leveled his threat directly at Callen. “I am counting down the days until you get dragged off in handcuffs.”

As if the FBI scared Callen. Walker and his type had been hunting him for years. Tracking him and never finding anything.

“If Walker were here he would listen to
me
, not you.” Grace raised her voice to match Marc’s. “He would tell you to leave Callen alone.”

Now that amounted to a pretty big overstatement since Walker had been beating the arrest-Callen drum for a long time. “I don’t know about that,” Callen mumbled in her ear so only she could hear.

“Did you say Walker?” The chief squinted as he asked the question.

“I’m his former partner.” Grace had been dropping one info bomb after another, but that one had more than one nosy onlooker whispering to the person beside him.

Marc’s head actually dropped forward. “You’re FBI?”

Seeing Marc Baron’s mouth fall open in shock just about made Callen’s year. Forget the problems between them and the questions still to be answered—that comment from Grace erased a lot of his remaining anger, leaving only the questions behind.

“
Was
FBI, but I still have my contacts and remember my training.” She looked from Marc to the chief. “You might want to keep that in mind before you go issuing threats to innocent, law-abiding citizens.”

“We’re done here.” This time the chief tugged harder and shifted Marc out of the path of Grace’s wrath. The sandwich squished under their shoes and the murmur of the crowd died down as the chief took off, towing Marc beside him.

It took another few minutes for the crowd to disperse. Many nodded and a few smiled. After months of being an outcast, Callen realized Grace had just given him some sort of credibility in about two minutes and four sentences.

Standing in the middle of the sidewalk with the fall sun beaming down and the cool breeze kicking up, Callen was grateful to and a little in awe of her. He’d recognized her strength from the start. He’d seen it in action. One of the things he’d always admired and liked most about her was her refusal to take his shit—and he had been pretty shitty. But this was a whole other level.

She’d gone all mama bear on his accusers, ready to strike and willing to highlight whatever fact she needed to tilt the argument in her favor. Every word was the truth, at least he thought so, but using the FBI against Marc had been a stroke of genius.