No Escape

Isabelle hadn’t moved to refasten her jeans, but her breathing had sped. He could feel the quick expansion of her ribs under his thumbs and itched to slide his hands up to see if her heart was pounding faster, as well.



He knew women. Well. He knew the signs of arousal, and Isabelle was showing too many for him to ignore.



Even though the air was cool, a fine sweat had broken out over her skin, or maybe that was his own palms going hot at the chance to touch her. He was careful not to press his body against her sore back, but he was close enough to feel the heat coming from her.



She still hadn’t moved, and he wasn’t sure if it was because she wanted him to make the next move, or because she didn’t. He didn’t want to push her, but he also didn’t want to miss an opportunity see how far she’d let things go, either. If she wanted him, he was more than happy to oblige. To hell with the consequences.



Maybe it made him an ass, but he was dying to touch more of her. Taste more of her. He wanted to feel her body moving under his hands, make her feel good to make up for the injury he’d allowed to happen to her tonight.



“Would you like me to help you clean up that scrape?” he asked, testing the waters.



“I think I can get it. I’ll jump in the shower.”



Grant rubbed his cheek against her silky hair. A short growth of stubble caught and held the fine strands. “You sure?”



She stood there for so long, he almost wondered if she’d heard his question. “Yeah.”



Disappointment made him sluggish, but he took the hint and released her.



Isabelle turned around, still holding the front of her jeans closed. Her eyes were dark, and her cheeks were stained with the blush of arousal.



She wanted him. Grant was certain. What he didn’t understand was why she turned him down.



Of course, women were complicated. He loved that about them when he wasn’t cursing the trait. And he didn’t have to understand a refusal to respect it.



“You’ll call if you change your mind?” he asked.



Isabelle nodded but stood there as if she wanted to say something else.



Grant waited, hoping she’d change her mind and invite him to her room, but when she looked down at the carpet, he knew it wasn’t to be.



“Thanks for being there tonight,” she said.



“It’s why I’m here.”



“Will I see you in the morning before I leave for work?”



“We’ll have breakfast together, you, me, and Dale,” he promised.



“Sounds nice.” She left, and Grant watched her walk away a little unsteadily.



Nice. Breakfast would be nice, but getting there was not going to be any fun at all, not with the erection he had now.



Grant briefly considered hopping in his car and finding some willing woman in a bar. It would have been easy enough to do, but it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted Isabelle.



The knowledge shocked him. One willing and eager woman was always as good as another, as far as he was concerned. What was different now?



Maybe he just didn’t want to leave Isabelle and Dale vulnerable. That was probably it. Nothing else made any sense.



CHAPTER ELEVEN



Isabelle couldn’t sleep. She could still feel Grant’s big hands on her body, his thumbs stroking her skin. That simple touch had made her shake with need, and even though he was no longer touching her, she hadn’t stopped shaking. None of her past lovers had come close to making her feel like this, but a few strokes from Grant’s hands and she was halfway to meltdown. It was almost enough to make her give up her good intentions and go climb into bed with him. Almost.



Only the knowledge that Dale was in the room next door kept her in her own bed. She wasn’t going to set a bad example for her son by sleeping with a man who’d been back in her life for only two days. What a lousy role model she’d be if she did that.



Isabelle squirmed in her bed for what felt like half the night. She couldn’t sleep comfortably on her back, so whenever she would doze off and roll over, it woke her up. By the time her alarm went off, she felt nearly sick with fatigue. Her joints ached, and her eyes were hot and dry.



No amount of caffeine was ever going to fix this, but she wasn’t going to wimp out and call in a sub. She wanted to see Rachel and make sure the girl was holding up okay. If Amanda came home upset last night, Rachel was sensitive enough to pick up on her mom’s tension. A sub would never know how to deal with that.



Isabelle pushed out of bed, stifling a wince of pain. Her back and neck muscles were stiff, and there were new bruises on her forearms where that guy had grabbed her.



By the time she was dressed, some of the stiffness was gone, but it was going to be a long day.



Grant and Dale were already at the breakfast table when she came into the kitchen. They were shoveling down a pile of scrambled eggs and toast. “Wow. Someone cooked on a weekday?”



“Don’t look at me,” said Dale around a bite of toast.



She looked at Grant, enjoying the view. His hair was still damp from his shower, making it look darker than usual. He wore a tight gray T-shirt that showed off his muscular chest and made her question the sanity of her decision to sleep alone last night.



He gave her one of his patented smiles that sent her stomach for a loop and said, “We saved you some.”



Isabelle sat, noticing that she already had a cup of steaming tea waiting for her. “Thanks.”



“No problem. I wanted you all agreeable when I asked you for a favor.”



Doing favors for Grant sounded like a nice time. Especially naked favors. She could get into something like that. “What favor?”



“My buddy David wants to test out this new security system he designed. I was hoping you’d let me install one here to help him out and give me some practice putting one into an older home. They can be tough.”



Isabelle was sure that asking for her agreement in front of Dale was not a coincidence. It sounded like a cover story to her—one that would keep Dale from worrying about why she’d need a security system.



“I really can’t afford something like that.”



“Not a problem. David said he’d comp it for the chance to test it out.”



“If I agreed, he’d have to let me pay something.”



Grant shook his head. “David would never go for that. Sorry. You should still do it, though. With Wyatt sniffing around, I’d feel better if you had some protection once I’m gone.”



Isabelle’s lungs tightened at the thought of him leaving. She didn’t feel vulnerable when he was in the house. He made her feel safe, and she was going to miss that. She was going to miss him.



Still, he was right about Wyatt. She would feel better knowing she had some measure of security. Who knew what the future might hold and what she might be facing with the other foster children she’d take in. Dale was nearly a man, better equipped to take care of himself than the younger children she might care for. She owed it to them to do what she could to protect them.



Isabelle nodded. She’d find a way to pay for it. “I suppose we can work something out.”



“Great. I’ll have to drill some holes in your walls. Not too many, but a few.”



“Need any help?” asked Dale, his eyes lighting up over the possibility of getting to use power tools.



“Sure. That’d be great. Assuming Isabelle will let us.” Grant and Dale both looked at her expectantly.



“How can I refuse?” she said.



“Don’t worry,” Grant assured her. “I’ll patch everything up once I run the wires, and the place will be as good as new.”



“Better,” said Dale. “It will have a security system. Keep thugs like Wyatt from nosing around.”



“Has Wyatt bothered you again?” asked Grant before Isabelle got the chance.



“No. But that doesn’t mean he won’t. Better safe than sorry, right?”



“Absolutely,” agreed Grant. “What are you doing after school? Do you have another study group?”



“Not tonight.”



“Do you want to help me when you get home?”



“Sure, if I don’t have any homework.”



“Sounds good.”



She reached for the salt, and Dale’s face drained of color.



“What happened to your arm?” he asked, pointing to her forearm with his fork.



Isabelle saw the bruise and pulled her sleeves down to cover it. “I fell last night.”



“Fell?” asked Dale in a flat voice. He looked between her and Grant, wearing the strangest look, like her bruise was somehow Grant’s fault.



“You sound like you don’t believe me.”



“My mom used to ‘fall’ a lot, too,” he said to Grant, his accusation blatant in his harsh tone.



Grant sat there looking guilty, though Isabelle had no idea why. Her injuries were not his fault.



“I really did fall, Dale. In the restaurant parking lot. That’s why there’s no takeout in the fridge for you. It got smooshed all over the pavement.”



“Did you accidentally hit Grant in the face on the way down? Is that how he got hurt, too?”



Isabelle opened her mouth to respond, but Grant beat her to it. “I already told you what happened,” he said. “Some guys wanted my car. They jumped me, I got hit. Isabelle fell trying to get me help.”



“I should have watched where I was going,” said Isabelle.



“I should have gotten you out of harm’s way,” argued Grant.



“You were a little busy dealing with the carjackers.” If that’s, indeed, what they were. She still wasn’t convinced they weren’t friends of Wyatt’s sent to get rid of Grant so it would be easier to get to Dale. It was just one more reason to get that security system installed before he left.



“I should have handled it better,” said Grant, his voice tight.



Dale looked back and forth between them. Finally, he seemed satisfied that they were telling the truth. “You’re okay, right?” Dale asked her.



“I’m fine.”



He frowned for a moment, thinking, then said, “I’ll take care of the laundry and vacuuming this week—just until you feel better.”



His sweet offer made her want to hug him, but she resisted embarrassing him. “I feel fine, Dale. It’s no big deal, and you do plenty of chores around here already.”



“I’m still doing the laundry,” he told her as if daring her to stop him.



Isabelle couldn’t help but smile. He was such a sweet kid to want to take care of her instead of the other way around. “Be my guest if it’ll make you feel better.”



“It will,” he said. “You can wash your own underwear, though, ’cause that’s just gross.”



“Gee, thanks,” she said, secretly pleased because that comment somehow made her feel like a real mom.



He checked the clock on the wall. “I gotta run.”



“Have a good day,” said Isabelle.



“We’ll start that project as soon as you get home,” said Grant.



“Cool.” Dale slipped his jacket on and grabbed his backpack on the way out the door.