Chapter 11

As she watched the pissed-off biker get arrested, Grace understood how being a cop could be incredibly rewarding. Opening her mouth, she turned to say something to Hugh, but the look on his face knocked all the words right out of her head. Instead, all she said was, “What?”

“What?” he threw back at her. Of course he did. Because having a conversation with Officer Hugh Murdoch was like trying to discuss things with a twelve-year-old. And, for whatever strange reason, it turned her right back into a twelve-year-old as well, fighting the urge to stick out her tongue or kick him in the knee.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like that.”

“What?”

“That… Okay, this is stupid.” She didn’t even know what her initial question had been anymore. There were more important things to discuss, anyway. “Now that you know all is well, and no drugs were found, can we go before someone catches us up here?”

“You’re with the police. What are they going to do if they do catch us? Call the… Hang on.” He grinned at her. His gaze turned to the street below, and the grin slipped away. “Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh?” That wasn’t reassuring. “Why uh-oh? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing serious.”

Not believing that for a second, she followed his gaze to see Theo glaring directly at them. She froze, feeling like a teenager caught sneaking out by her parents. The cop that Theo had been talking to started to turn, as if to see what caught Theo’s attention, just as Hugh grabbed her by the arm and hauled her away from the edge.

“Time to move,” he said.

As Grace started to turn, she saw someone else was looking at them. “Hugh,” she said.

“What?”

“One of the bikers is staring at us.”

He stepped behind her, looking over her shoulder at the crowd beneath them. “The ugly ginger guy?”

“No.” Not wanting to point, she put her hand on his chin to direct his gaze. The light scratch of his stubbled cheek made her insides tighten in a too-pleasant way. “The ugly bald guy.”

“Huh.” Although Hugh’s voice stayed casual, she could feel tension radiating from him. “Don’t know him. That’s another good reason to leave.” Turning, he ushered her toward the back side of the building.

Grace snuck a final look at the biker, but he’d disappeared. “Where’d he go?”

Hugh turned to look, and his frown deepened. “Let’s go.” He slid feetfirst over the edge of the roof.

“What are you doing?”

“Making an ice-cream sundae.” He grunted as he dangled for a moment before letting go, falling about four feet before his feet hit the ground. “What does it…oof…look like I’m doing?” As he landed, his right leg crumpled beneath him. He stumbled, then regained his balance and stayed on his feet. Once he was steady, he looked up at her with his usual smirk in place, but a slightly green cast to his skin gave him away.

Peering over the edge of the roof, she frowned. “Faker. How badly does your leg hurt right now?”

“I’m fine. It takes more than jumping off a roof to slow me down. Lexi, here.”

With total trust, Lexi jumped off the edge of the roof, and Hugh caught her with outward ease. If she hadn’t been looking for it, Grace wouldn’t have noticed his wince, since it disappeared so quickly. He bent to place Lexi on the ground before moving closer to the wall.

“Your turn. Turn onto your stomach and slide over the edge. I’ll help you the rest of the way.”

She did, her shoes scuffing against the brick wall as she lowered her body over the edge of the roof. There was a second when she dangled from her hands, hanging in empty space, and panic roared through her. Her fingers tightened painfully, and she kicked out, her feet trying to find purchase on the wall.

“Ow!” Hugh yelped, right before he wrapped his arms around her thighs. “Not the face!”

Now that he was gripping her, holding her steady, her fear faded. Grace felt a little sheepish. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t make actual contact.” He sounded amused, so she couldn’t have damaged him too much. “If you had, it would’ve been karma in action. I’m sure I’ve done something to deserve being kicked in the face.”

“Yeah, you have. There was that time you—”

“You can let go now,” he interrupted.

She released her grip on the roof edge, and his arms immediately tightened, lowering her to the ground.

Lexi gave a low growl. Grace looked at the dog and saw that the hair was raised over Lexi’s neck and shoulders as the dog stared at the corner of the print shop. Tugging Grace behind him, Hugh started backing toward the opposite corner.

“Should we call for help?” Grace whispered.

“They won’t hear us back here over the bikes,” he responded, his voice low. “Lex. Here.”

Lexi swiveled an ear toward them. After holding her defensive stance for another moment, the dog reluctantly turned and moved to Hugh’s side. Grace was impressed by Lexi’s bravery. She’d been willing to face off with whomever was about to come around that corner, while Grace was cowering behind Hugh, her brain screaming at her to run away. She dropped a hand to Lexi’s back, taking courage from the feel of her warm fur. Without taking her attention off the far corner, Lexi thumped her tail against Grace’s leg in response.

“Is it the bald biker, do you think?” His flat stare flashed through her mind, and she tensed even more. “He was staring at us.”

“It’s not Theo,” Hugh responded grimly. “We know that much.”

Her heart pounded, and it suddenly became hard to breathe. Not knowing who was around the corner, who Lexi saw as such a threat, was worse than facing someone straight on.

“We’ll go in the back door and cut through the shop,” Hugh said very quietly while keeping his gaze forward. “Once we get out front, there’ll be plenty of backup.”

As they rounded the corner to the back of the building, they all turned and hurried toward the door. Even with Hugh and Lexi at her back, Grace felt vulnerable. The urge to look over her shoulder, to check to see who was chasing them, was almost overwhelming. Fighting it down, Grace rushed forward and turned the knob. Her stomach clenched when the door refused to open. It was locked.

She turned to Hugh, whispering frantically, “Can you pick it?”

His tools were already in his hands as he crouched in front of the door. “Oh, so all of a sudden you like my lockpicking skills?”

Lexi’s growl ramped up a notch, her body stiff and pointed toward the corner they’d just rounded, and Grace gritted her teeth. “When you’re not using them to walk in on me when I’m in the bathroom, yes. Why are we even talking about this at this moment? Can’t you just do your lockpicking thing quietly without—”

“Got it.” He opened the door. Grabbing her hand, Hugh ducked through the doorway, tugging her along behind him. He had to hiss a command at Lexi before she abandoned her self-appointed post and followed them into the shop. As soon as the dog’s tail cleared the entry, Grace closed the door and turned the lock that Hugh had just opened.

It took several seconds to become accustomed to the dim shop after the bright sunshine outside. The sole window, set next to the door they’d just entered, was filthy, which didn’t help. Her eyes finally adjusted, and the shadows lightened, revealing large machines that crowded the room. Just one was running with a rumbling roar, spitting out large sheets of paper into a receiving tray every ten seconds or so. Scattered boxes filled the rest of the space, leaving only a couple of narrow pathways. One went to the front door, and the other crossed the room to what looked like an office, judging by the little Grace could see through a half-opened door.

Hugh leaned down to speak directly in her ear. “The owner spends most of her time in there.” He gestured toward the office. “She’s almost completely deaf, so we should be able to slip through here without her ever knowing we took a detour.” Despite the circumstances, she shivered when his lip grazed her ear. Stop it, she told herself firmly. There’s a time and a place to get all lusty, and this isn’t it.

She followed Hugh, Lexi at his side, as he moved quietly toward the front door. Glancing nervously over her shoulder, Grace eyed the back door. What had seemed like an insurmountable barrier just a minute ago seemed flimsy now that it was the only thing between them and danger. As she started to turn back around, a movement caught her attention. She refocused on the door, trying to figure out what—if anything—had shifted. To her horror, the knob turned.

She slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her squeak of alarm, but it was still loud enough to make Hugh spin around. She waved frantically at the door, and his expression turned ferocious. He caught her hand and tugged her forward. They wove through the boxes and printers toward the front door, moving quickly.

There was a smashing sound, loud enough to hear over the printer, and Grace ducked, swallowing a scream. Twisting around, she saw the butt of a gun retreating from the new hole it had just made in the windowpane next to the back door. A gloved hand slipped through the opening, reaching toward the door lock.

Hugh ducked behind one of the bulky machines, pulling Grace and Lexi with him. He crowded them toward the wall, keeping his body between them and the path. They crouched in the dust, the smell of oil and hot paper thick around them, and Grace tried not to think about huddling behind that dumpster by the police station or next to her car after the shooting. Once again, she was hiding, thanks to Martin Jovanovic and his army of killers. Rage began to burn away the edges of her fear.

Hugh swore under his breath.

“What’s wrong?” Her words were barely a whisper.

“Nothing we can’t handle.” He gave her a conspiratorial look.

She frowned at him. Her heart was beating so hard it felt as if it were about to break out of her chest, and he was doing his jokey-Hugh thing. “I’d still feel better knowing what you were swearing about.”

“No gun.” He shrugged, but the tension in his body showed that he wasn’t as nonchalant as he was pretending. “Didn’t think I’d need it at the kennel.”

Lexi crouched, ready to spring, and growled. Grace strained her ears, listening for any sound, wishing for Lexi’s keen hearing. All she heard was the mechanical thump of the printer and muted rumbles from the motorcycles outside. There was no way to tell if the man had managed to get inside, or how close he was, or if he was right on the other side of the printer, ready to pounce… If he’d followed the path toward the door, he’d see them. She knotted her hands into fists, fighting the urge to grab the back of Hugh’s shirt. Clinging to him wouldn’t help.

“Stay here,” Hugh said so quietly that she could barely make out the words.

Grace’s stomach tried to turn itself inside out. What was he about to do? It made her want to grab him even more, although this time, it would be to hold him back. He was going to get himself killed, all because he was trying to protect her.

Before she could protest, the huge, bald, leather-clad man stepped forward. He visibly started when he noticed them, but recovered quickly, swinging around to point a silver revolver at them. Hugh launched forward, his shoulder hitting the man right in his potbelly and driving the air out of the biker’s lungs in a whoosh. They collided with another machine before falling to the ground, the gun hitting the floor with a clatter. Hugh twisted as he landed, ending up on top of the other man. He got in two punches before they rolled, and the biker got the upper hand. As the two men wrestled, faces red and muscles straining, Lexi barked wildly, circling the pair on stiff legs.

Grace knew she needed to help, but how? She stared at the interlocked figures, trying to think of some way to assist Hugh, but they were so close together and moving so quickly that any kick or punch would just as likely connect with Hugh, rather than their opponent. She scanned the area for a heavy object she could use as a weapon, and she saw the gun lying just feet from the bad guy’s hand. She rushed toward it just as the men rolled, tripping her. Landing on all fours, she ignored the sting of her hands and knees and scrambled to grab the gun. As her fingers closed around it, she heard a yell from the fighting men, and her wrist was caught in a cruel grip.

“No you don’t,” the biker snarled, his grip tightening until she cried out.

With a roar, Hugh flipped them over, knocking the stranger’s hand loose in the process. “You! Don’t! Touch! Her!” He punctuated each word with a punch to the biker’s face. Clutching the gun, Grace scrambled back until her back pressed against a stack of paper boxes. She aimed the pistol at the stranger, but Hugh blocked her aim. He had the upper hand, anyway, and she was intensely relieved that she probably wouldn’t have to use the gun.

As she watched, her heart pounding fast enough to make her head spin, Hugh hammered his fist into the biker’s face one last time. The other man didn’t swing back, didn’t try to turn them over again. Instead, he had his hands up as if to protect his face. Hugh, his expression furious, pushed up to a crouch and manhandled the biker over onto his stomach.

“Who hired you?” Hugh demanded, but the man didn’t respond. Blood trickled from a cut next to his eyebrow, reminding Grace of the tortured men’s blood-streaked faces, and she had to look away.

“Police!” Theo’s shout was the best thing she’d ever heard. The cop ran to help Hugh, yanking a pair of handcuffs off his duty belt.

“Good timing.” Although he was breathless, Hugh sounded almost back to his normal self. Grace, on the other hand, was pretty sure she’d burst into tears if she tried to talk. “I don’t have my cuffs on me. I would’ve had to MacGyver something from a piece of twine and a couple of paper clips.”

After he and Theo hauled the dazed-looking biker to his feet, Theo hammering the guy with questions that went unanswered, Hugh moved over to Grace and helped her to her feet much more gently than he’d handled the handcuffed man.

“Want me to deal with that?” he asked, looking pointedly at her hand.

“What?” Her voice shook, and Grace hated that. Following his gaze, she saw the gun still clutched in her hand. “Oh. Yes, please.” She held it out, careful to keep the barrel pointed away from him. It suddenly felt impossibly heavy.

Hugh gently took it and cleared it with efficiency born from lots of practice. “Good job, Gracie.”

“Thanks.” She stared up at him, resisting the urge to topple forward against his solid chest. After everything that had just happened, she wanted to lean on him, take in his wonderful Hugh scent, and hide from the universe until it stopped taking a giant dump on her life.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Rudely snapped out of her Hugh daze, Grace snapped her head around to look at Theo.

“Visiting local businesses?” Hugh offered, but Theo just glared. “Getting some ice cream?” That was the second time he’d mentioned ice cream in the past hour. Hugh must be getting hungry. He handed the gun and the bullets he’d removed from it over to Theo, who deposited them in his pocket without dropping his scowl. “Finding a quiet place to make out?”

Grace flushed and was instantly annoyed at herself for turning red. She wasn’t normally a blusher. Hugh just seemed to bring out unexpected reactions.

“You need to get out of here before LT shows up,” Theo said, his face grim. “If he catches you here, you’re done.”

Grace felt her eyebrows shoot up. What did Theo mean? Would Hugh actually get fired for showing up at the call?

“I need to talk to this guy.” Hugh jerked his head in the biker’s direction. From the rage bubbling under his words, the conversation wasn’t going to be a friendly one.

Theo started walking toward the front of the shop, towing the handcuffed biker along with him. “You need to go. I’ll question him and let you know what I find out later.”

“We’ll go to my house,” Hugh said, although he didn’t look thrilled about it. “You and Otto meet us there once you’re done here.”

“I promised I’d make dinner for Jules and the kids tonight,” Grace protested. Even to her own ears, she knew it sounded silly. Someone was gunning for her, almost killing Hugh in the cross fire, and she was worried about meal preparations. Still, she was scrambling for any hint of normalcy in the sea of hit men and bullets and exploding trucks.

“No.” Theo stopped, turning that too-intense gaze on her, and she struggled not to look away. “If Jovanovic is after you, then I don’t want you anywhere near Jules and the kids.”

“But…” Once again, her life was spinning out of control. After the world’s worst dinner party, all she had was a tiny bedroom in a dilapidated house that she shared with a surprisingly endearing family. Now, the threat of Martin Jovanovic was going to take even that away from her. Of course she didn’t want to endanger Jules or her siblings, but that was supposed to be her safe house. Now, she was cut adrift again, and this time, there was no safe place.

Her voice came out embarrassingly small. “But that’s where I live.”

It wasn’t until Hugh’s arm circled her that she realized how close he’d gotten. Although a part of her figured she should step away and put some distance between them, a much larger part of her wanted to lean against him and take advantage of the comfort he offered.

Although a flicker of sympathy softened Theo’s expression for a moment, his tone remained firm. “We’ll find somewhere else for you to live until we figure out what to do about Jovanovic.”

The “we” surprised her. “You’re going to help me?”

“Yes,” both men chorused.

“Thank you.” Despite the whole wretched mess, Grace felt a flicker of hope.

“We’re cops. Helping people in trouble is what we do. Now get out of here before someone else tries to kill you.” Theo hauled the biker toward the front door. The handcuffed man turned his head and gave Grace and Hugh a blood-streaked sneer, mouthing, “I’ll get you.”

Grace stared back at him as impassively as possible, trying her best to hide her shiver.

“No.” Hugh’s voice was abrupt and cold. “You won’t. You’ll get some time in prison, but you’ll never get Grace.”

At Hugh’s words, Theo snapped his head around to glare at the biker. “Face front,” he barked, giving the man’s arm a jerk that pulled him off-balance. The biker stumbled forward a few steps as Theo yanked open the door.

“Found this one trying to hide in the print shop,” he called to someone outside as he stepped into the sunshine, biker in tow.

“What happened to his face?” asked a male voice Grace didn’t recognize.

Theo said flatly, “He pulled a gun.” The door swung shut behind them, cutting off the other person’s reply. The gloom settled over Grace and Hugh again.

Glancing at the half-open office door across the shop, Grace gave a huff of laughter.

“What?” Hugh asked, grabbing her hand to lead her toward the back door. Even once Grace was headed in the right direction, he kept hold of her. Honestly, she didn’t mind.

“The owner didn’t hear any of that?”

“When I said she was mostly deaf”—he released her hand and bent to pick up Lexi—“I meant that. Theo will talk to her about the broken window.”

Glass crunched under Grace’s feet, making her realize why he was carrying his dog. He didn’t want Lexi to cut her feet. Grace’s heart softened even more at his consideration for his K9 partner. “Why did that guy come after us? Do you think Martin hired him?” she asked.

Hugh glanced at her. “Could be.” He didn’t sound convinced, though.

“Why else would he want to kill us?” Her voice was thin. It was bad enough to have one killer on her trail. She didn’t think she could handle another.

“Not sure, but I’d like to have a chat with him.”

Grace opened the door. “A couple of weeks ago, a crisis in my world was a long line at the coffee place.”

He grinned at her as he carried Lexi through the doorway. “Sounds boring. Aren’t you glad you moved here?”

“No. Not really.”

He chuckled and put Lexi down, closing the door before reaching to grab Grace’s hand again. She had to admit that, amid all the fear and death threats and panic, this small Colorado town did have a few perks. Shaking the bemused thought out of her head, she focused on crossing the rocky, weedy yard without tripping.

Bullets and scary bikers trump a hot guy, she reminded herself sharply.

Then Hugh snuck an all-too-obvious peek at her out of the corner of his eye, looking so stupidly adorable that her heart accelerated just a tiny bit.

She had to roll her eyes at herself. Fine. So he’s a perk.

* * *

From the second she stepped through his front door, Grace loved Hugh’s house. It had all the cuteness of a cabin, but the lofted ceilings and large windows made her feel almost like she was outside. Despite everything that was going on, she felt her shoulders relax for the first time in weeks.

Lexi’s nails clicked against the hardwood floors as she trotted past Grace and into the kitchen, which was only separated from the living area by an island and several stools.

“You hungry?” Hugh asked.

Her stomach was such a mess of anxiety and leftover adrenaline that she had no idea whether she was hungry or not. She had a feeling that she’d regret trying to eat at that moment, though. “Not really. Would you mind if I took a shower? It’s been a busy, dirty day.”

“Go ahead.” His eyes flicked over her body. “Do you need something to change into?”

It struck her that she was back to the same desperate place she’d been a couple of weeks ago, with nothing but the clothes she was wearing and the contents of her purse, running from Martin Jovanovic. A sense of futility hit her, bringing with it a wave of despair so strong that she swayed as the world blurred around her.

“Whoa there.” Strong hands gripped her shoulders, steadying her. “Sure you don’t want to reconsider eating something first?”

Blinking, she brought Hugh’s face into focus. He’d leaned in close, and she noted absently that, even after crouching in dirty parking lots and cleaning dog kennels and climbing roofs and beating up a biker, he still smelled really good. Kind of warm and spicy and…something she couldn’t identify.

His eyes narrowed and heated, and she realized with a start that she’d been getting closer and closer until they were almost kissing—again.

Grace jerked back as far as she could, which wasn’t that far, since he still had hold of her shoulders.

“You okay?” he asked again. This time, his voice held a little more gravel, and she wondered if he was just as affected by the almost-kiss as she had been.

“No,” she blurted out honestly. “Not really. I’m homeless again, for the second time in two weeks, and this time I don’t even have my Walmart jeans with me. Just today, I’ve been kissed, shot at, cleaned up dog poo, climbed on a roof, and almost killed by a biker. So I’ve had better days. Why are you smiling? What part of my really sucky day is making you smile? Because that stupid smile will probably go away if I hurt you.”

Instead of showing the appropriate fear and intimidation, Hugh actually chuckled. His hands slid down to her upper arms and then back to her shoulders in a gentle caress. “You’re so cute. You actually said poo.”

And just like that, all her righteous indignation disappeared, and she was fighting a return smile. As annoying as Hugh was, he was also charming. That made it very difficult to stay hostile, especially when he was touching her.

When her anger left her, so did the last of her strength. Her legs wobbled, just from sheer fatigue, and she wasn’t able to stop the forward lean that plastered her front against his. He wasn’t comfortable. His chest was too hard for that. Despite that, it was still an amazing feeling to be pressed against Hugh. Grace didn’t want to move—ever.

“Poor Gracie.” His arms wrapped around her, enveloping her in a bear hug, and Grace decided that was even better than the massage thing he’d been doing earlier. Cuddling her against his chest, he kissed her temple. His mouth stayed close, and she felt his next words brush across her skin. She shivered and then decided that, for her own mental health, she would just pretend that she hadn’t reacted, that Hugh was not attractive, and that she didn’t find him stupidly appealing. “What’s your real name?”

“Kaylee.” It felt strange to say it aloud now.

“Kaylee,” he repeated, as if trying it out. “Hmm. I like Grace better.”

“Too bad,” she grumbled, although she wasn’t annoyed enough to move yet. “I’m not going to change it just to make you happy.”

“Grace fits you. You’re very graceful.”

The compliment made it hard to build up much indignation, so she just shrugged, the motion moving her body against his. “Whatever. Grace is fine.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “It doesn’t annoy you?”

“Not really.” She couldn’t hold back a yawn.

He hummed. “That’s not fun, then.”

She raised her hand to smack him, but it was halfhearted at best. “Jerk.” Her arm fell back to her side. “I don’t care what I’m called. I just want this to be over.”

“I’m kidding. Kaylee’s a pretty name, too.” His arms tightened around her. “I promise we’ll get Jovanovic put away so you can go back to your life.”

“Grace is good. I’m used to it now.” She ignored the rest of what he said. As much as she wanted to be free of Martin Jovanovic’s death threats, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to give up Monroe, Colorado. The harsh truth was that, right now, the thought of her LA home didn’t bring the same melancholy feeling as it had a few days ago. At this moment, Grace was completely content to stay right where she was, wrapped in the warmth and safety of Hugh’s bear hug.

“You still with me, Grace?” he asked. Even the underlying thread of teasing humor wasn’t enough to force her to pull away. She knew that once she stepped out of Hugh’s embrace, she’d have to return to reality, and reality had been a little too full of near-death experiences lately. “You’re not glaring at me or telling me how annoying I am. This new docile side has me worried.”

“Docile?” she repeated, jerking her head back so she could scowl at him. “What am I? A cow?”

Hugh gave her that innocent, wide-eyed look that was more aggravating than any of his other rage-inducing habits. “I would never call you a cow, Gracie.”

As she eyed him, waiting for whatever punch line he was coming up with, she realized that he still had his arms around her. With a reluctance that she wished she didn’t feel, she stepped back, and his hold loosened and then fell away, leaving her cold and vulnerable.

His smile turned from devilish to wry, as if he knew fun times were over. “Let me make you some food, and we’ll eat on the deck. The view from there is pretty nice.”

“Shower first.”

After giving her a measuring look, as if to reassure himself that she wasn’t about to collapse from low blood sugar, Hugh waved toward the stairs. “Bathroom’s the second door on the left, and my bedroom is the first. Feel free to raid my dresser and take any clothes you want.” He faked a frown. “I don’t have any Walmart jeans, though, so I can’t help you there.”

Grace seriously considered making a rude gesture, but she didn’t have the energy. Her arms suddenly felt incredibly heavy, so she settled on ignoring his attempt at humor. “Thanks.”

“Need help?”

“With finding something to wear?”

“Sure.” He took a step toward her. “Or getting up the stairs, or undressing, or…” When his voice trailed off into silence, they both stared at each other, and the air got thick and warm.

“Um, no.” Her voice sounded several notes deeper than it usually did. She cleared her throat. “I’ll be fine climbing the stairs. And with…everything else.” She couldn’t say undressing without turning bright red. Although she normally wasn’t a blusher, there was something about Hugh that brought heat to her cheeks, as well as to other places she wasn’t going to think about at the moment. They both had enough going on—like being chased by killers—without this stupid crush making things awkward.

She hurried away from him. Despite being distracted by the way Hugh watched her until she was out of sight, she noticed that the stairs were amazing. The heavy cross-sections of logs were held in place with curled wrought iron that looked almost delicate. The design gave the illusion that every step was floating. It was beautiful and unique and fit perfectly with the rest of the house. Her first impression had been that his house was rustic and homey, but the longer she was there, the more careful details she noticed.

When she was in Hugh’s room, though, she tried not to notice any of those details—not the slightly mussed bed that looked like he’d just rolled out of it, or the way the room smelled faintly like that spicy, stupidly good scent that clung to his skin. Hurrying across the space, she fixed her eyes on the dresser. She needed to get some clothes and get out quickly, before she gave in to temptation and sniffed his pillow or something.

Yanking open the top drawer, Grace stared at the stacks of underwear for a second before jamming it shut again. The second drawer was more helpful. She pulled out some athletic shorts and a T-shirt before closing the drawer and escaping to the bathroom.

The shower felt amazing. Tipping her head back into the hot, needling spray, she closed her eyes, only to snap them open a second later when she started to tip sideways. Although she’d heard of the saying “falling asleep on your feet,” she’d never actually done it before. She seriously needed some rest. After briskly finishing washing and rinsing, she turned off the shower.

His clothes were huge on her. The T-shirt was fine, except for wanting to slip off one shoulder or the other, but the shorts were a challenge. Grace finally tied a knot in the waistband, which kept the shorts from falling around her ankles. A glance in the mirror made her groan quietly. She looked like a kid playing dress up. Tugging the T-shirt away from her sides, she decided that at least two normal-sized humans could fit into Hugh’s clothes with her. He was just that massive.

“Grace?” His voice coming from behind the closed door made her jump. “You okay?”

She sighed, allowing the fabric to drape around her body again. “Fine. I’ll be out in a second.” She paused. “Don’t pick the lock.”

She heard a huff, but she wasn’t sure if the sound was amusement or offense. Shrugging off Hugh’s reaction, she turned back to the sad figure in the mirror. Her drooping shoulders made Grace give herself a mental slap. Considering how the past couple of weeks had gone, too-large clothes were such a minor problem that they shouldn’t bother her. It was just annoying that Hugh had seen her in so many unflattering situations—the coveralls, her Walmart jeans, her post-roof-climbing outfit.

Abruptly, Grace cut off the mournful thought. She didn’t—couldn’t—care what Hugh thought of her.

Gathering her discarded clothes, she opened the bathroom door, and Hugh stumbled in, apparently having been leaning on the door. Once he recovered his balance, he took in her tentlike apparel and opened his mouth.

“Don’t say a word if you want to live,” she growled, pushing past him into the hall.

With a choked cough that sounded suspiciously close to a laugh, Hugh raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. “I was just going to tell you that the food’s ready.”

“Uh-huh.” It was getting harder and harder to hold her irritation at him. Instead, as she headed down the stairs, she was struck again by how beautiful his house was. Although it was vastly different from her own decorating style, the interesting mix of elegant and cozy made her feel immediately at home. When she reached the bottom, Lexi trotted over to greet her, shoving her furry head under Grace’s hand.

“Go on out to the deck,” Hugh said from right behind her. “I’ll bring out the food.”

Walking toward the sliding glass door, through which she could already see a breathtaking view of the mountains, she felt a flicker of regret for her snarkiness. “You didn’t need to cook for me.”

He laughed. “I didn’t. During your five-thousand-year shower, Otto stopped by to see for himself that I hadn’t been dismembered by bikers. Knowing that all I have in my fridge are aging condiments, he took pity on us and brought food from the diner… Well, the VFW posing as a diner, I guess.”

Stopping, she turned so she could give him her best glare. “You shouldn’t joke about that. You could’ve died. It’s serious.” Even though she wanted to keep her stern tone, she couldn’t keep from adding, “And we’ve been calling it the viner.”

“Viner. I like it. And I know it’s not a joking matter.” Despite his words, a residue of amusement still lingered in his expression. “Otto said that, too. He was slightly annoyed that I’d been at the traffic stop today, and more than slightly annoyed that I’d dragged you along.”

It seemed that, along with the bald biker, everyone on the police department had spotted them on the roof. Apparently, the camouflaging trees had been pretty much useless. “He saw us, too?”

“Nope.” Although Hugh made a face, he didn’t look too irritated. “Theo, the huge blabbermouth, told him. I knew he’d tell Otto. At least I got food with my lecture.”

At the reminder, Grace crossed the last few feet to the door. She slid it open, marveling at how the deck jutted into space. The cliff fell away beneath them, plunging to a river that had worn a deep groove in the mountain. It was beautiful and, despite the severe, vertigo-inducing drop, calming. As she stepped onto the deck, Lexi brushed by her. The railing slats weren’t very far apart, definitely not wide enough for a good-sized dog to squeeze through, but Grace figured she’d check, just in case. “Is it okay if Lexi’s on the deck?”

“Sure,” Hugh called back from the kitchen. “Just leave the door open so she can come back in if she wants.”

Leaving the door open as instructed, Grace moved to look over the railing. Her head spun. The cliff face plummeted to the river so far below that it looked as if someone had drawn the water using a dark-blue Sharpie. The dramatic plunge made her stomach lurch, and Grace took a hasty step back. Even though she didn’t usually have a fear of heights, this was different. It felt as if she were suspended above nothingness, and looking straight down at the drop made her feel as if the deck was shifting under her feet.

Moving back another step toward the door, Grace focused on the view straight ahead of her. It didn’t matter that she was no longer looking down, though. It still felt as if the deck was swaying beneath her. Frowning, she turned toward the door. Eating in the security of Hugh’s kitchen suddenly seemed like a good idea.

There was a crack, and then another, and Lexi let out an uneasy whine. Grace froze, trying to identify the sound. Her first thought was that someone was shooting at them again, but the noise was different. Besides, there was nowhere to shoot from, unless the wannabe assassin was a rock climber, as well. Despite the improbability of a cliff-scaling killer, Grace looked around, but saw nothing but silent mountains and the setting sun.

Her instincts screamed at her, telling her that something was terribly wrong, and she took a step toward the door. “Lexi.” The dog looked at her, tail tucked and her body slightly crouched. Her posture confirmed to Grace that, shooter or no shooter, they were in danger. “Let’s go inside.”

With a final squealing groan, the deck collapsed beneath her feet.

Too shocked to even shriek, Grace grabbed for the edge of the open door, catching it with one hand just before she began to slide across the almost vertical surface. Her arm wrenched painfully as her entire weight pulled against her hold, but she managed to keep her grip.

Lexi yelped, making Grace twist her head to see the dog sliding toward the far railing. The dog’s nails futilely fought for purchase as she skidded across the now-slanted deck.

“Grace!” Hugh shouted, sprinting toward the door. She opened her mouth to answer, but all she could do was suck in rapid, panicked breaths. Another yip caught her attention, and she watched in horror as Lexi collided with the tipped railing. One hind leg slid off the edge, and the dog scrabbled to pull herself back on the deck. Her second rear paw slipped over the top board, so that her entire back end hung over the railing, dangling over a terrifying, deadly drop.

The dog’s muscles bulged as she strained to pull herself to safety, her eyes wide in terror, the whites showing clearly. If Grace didn’t help her, didn’t do something, Lexi was going to fall. As Hugh reached to seize her hand and pull her to safety, Grace knew she couldn’t let that brave dog die. She released her grip on the door.

“No! Grace!” Hugh shouted. She slid, faster and faster, grabbing at the smooth deck flooring, but it didn’t provide any handholds. All her efforts at stopping her free fall didn’t even slow her down, and she crashed hard into the railing next to Lexi. The wood bowed at the impact, and every one of Grace’s muscles braced in anticipation of the slats breaking, sending her plunging into the chasm below.

The railing held. Grace sucked in a sobbing breath, opening eyes she hadn’t even realized she’d squeezed shut. Immediately, she wished she’d kept them closed. The cliff next to them dropped straight down, leaving only air beneath them. They were dangling above nothingness. If the railing broke, she’d plunge hundreds of feet until she hit the rocks so, so far below. Only then would her fall—and Grace herself—be broken.

The drag of nails against the railing supports yanked Grace’s attention away from the endless emptiness below and back to Lexi. Lunging toward the dog, Grace managed to grab her harness. Her fist closed around the nylon strap just as Lexi slipped over the edge of the railing.

With a yelp, Lexi fell. Her weight jerked Grace’s whole body down against the railing. Her shoulder screamed in pain, but she clung to the harness desperately.

“Hold on, Grace!” Hugh shouted from the door. He’d tied a rope around his waist, and he was rappelling down the almost vertical deck floor toward them. If Grace had been able to spare any oxygen to yell, she would’ve screamed at him to hurry, but the only thing she could manage was to suck air in quick, panicked gasps.

Lexi flailed her legs as she dangled in the air, jerking on Grace’s agonized shoulder. The railing slats pressed painfully against Grace’s front, and she prayed that they continued to hold. Her fingers were numb from the tight clench of her fist, but she managed to grip the harness even tighter. She couldn’t let Lexi go.

When Hugh was just a few feet away, the deck shuddered and dropped again. It only fell a few inches, but it was enough to jar Grace. For a fraction of a second, she was suspended, weightless, in the air, and then she connected with the railing—hard.

One of the supports under her hip gave a sharp crack and broke. The slat under her ribs splintered next. With a sobbing breath, she felt her body lurch against the too-few remaining supports. Her back stiffened as she tried to keep from dropping through the newly formed hole, and she wrapped her free arm around a post.

“I’m almost there, Grace. Just keep holding on.”

She wasn’t sure if Hugh was talking about holding on to Lexi or keeping her grip on the wooden post, but Grace was determined to do both. Just as the thought passed through her mind, the slat supporting her shoulders snapped, and she was plunging through the railing.

Vaguely, she heard Hugh’s panicked shout, but everything was a blur. Her body jerked once when her downward drop was halted by her grip on the post, and a second time when Lexi hit the end of her short free fall. Agony shot from Grace’s fingers all the way up her arm and through her shoulder, but still she didn’t let go.

“I’ve got you, Gracie.” Hugh’s hands were on her, and she’d never been so relieved. He pulled her back through the hole in the railing, Lexi’s weight a painful drag on her shrieking muscles. Grace welcomed the pain, though—it was so much better than numbness. If she couldn’t feel the nylon strap burning her palm and cutting into her fingers, she wouldn’t be sure that she still had the dog safe in her grasp.

As Hugh hauled her toward him, her feet struggled to find purchase, but the broken bits that remained of the railing supports cracked off like Popsicle sticks. Grace finally managed to stand on a post—the same one she’d been clinging to just a second earlier. As soon as she found her balance, Hugh reached down and grabbed Lexi’s harness. In one motion, he slung the dog over his shoulder.

“You can let go,” he said, but the words didn’t make any sense. She wasn’t about to release her grip on Hugh’s shirt. It was only when he gently worked her fingers free of Lexi’s harness that she realized she still clutched the strap. It almost hurt worse to release her grip than it had to hold the dog suspended in the air, but her fist finally unclenched. As soon as Hugh let go, her arm dropped to her side. It felt like the entire appendage was on fire, and Grace wasn’t sure if she could even lift her arm.

“Ready to get off this?” Hugh asked. Although he sounded steady, almost teasing, she could feel how tightly drawn he was, how he shook slightly under her clutching fingers.

There was no way she could speak, so she just gave a jerky bob of her head. He turned around, and she gasped as she was pulled with him by her one-handed death grip. Immediately, he stopped and looked at her.

“Get on my back,” he said, crouching slightly. The command was a relief. Her body moved to obey him even before her brain could start doubting if she could manage it. She climbed on piggyback style, wrapping her legs around his waist and hooking her good arm around his shoulders, careful not to strangle him accidentally. In that position, Lexi was right next to her, and Grace turned her face into her furry shoulder. Small, continuous shudders ran through the dog.

Step by laborious step, hand over hand on the rope hooked around his waist, Hugh climbed the steep slope of the broken deck. Grace clung to him, shaking harder than the dog. On Hugh’s fourth step, there was a low groaning sound and the deck listed to the right. His foot slipped, and he lurched sideways with a pained grunt, the rope holding all three of them going taut with the strain.

Swallowing a shriek, Grace tightened her grip on Hugh and focused on breathing. In and out. In and out. They would make it back into the house. Hugh wasn’t going to let them fall.

“I’ve got you,” he grunted, as if he could hear her panicked thoughts. She felt his chest expand as he took a deep breath, and then he was moving again. His breathing was rough, and Grace remembered that he’d been shot just weeks earlier. She could only imagine the agony he was in. Despite that, he held strong, hauling them closer and closer to the sliding glass door.

They were so close. If she hadn’t been clinging to Hugh for dear life with her one usable arm, she could’ve reached out and touched the doorframe. The muscles in his arms and shoulders were straining as he surged up and forward, finally landing one foot inside the house. As he pushed off with his other leg, there was a loud, splintering noise followed by several explosive cracks. The deck dropped, falling out from under them, and Hugh lunged through the doorway, throwing all three of them to the blessedly solid and horizontal floor.

For endless seconds, they lay there in a panting, shivering heap. Lexi was the first to shift, wriggling out from where she was half pinned by Hugh’s shoulder. Immediately, she pressed close to them, as if seeking comfort.

The dog’s movement brought Grace back to reality, and she realized that she was sprawled across Hugh’s back. A vague pang of guilt pricked her through the foggy haze of shock. He’d saved them, and she’d plopped her entire weight on him as thanks. She rolled off him—at least she tried. Before she could land on the floor next to him, Hugh had turned over and snaked out an arm, hooking it around her and pulling her back to him, on his chest this time.

Too dazed to fight and not really wanting to be away from him anyway, Grace relaxed, allowing him to hold her against his chest. Lexi burrowed in, pressing her head into Grace’s side.

“You okay?” Hugh’s voice was gravelly, sounding as if he’d been screaming for hours.

“Yes.” Her first try was soundless, and a sharp pain shot through her right shoulder, making the answer a lie. Taking a deep breath, she tried again. “Not really.” Although her voice didn’t even sound like her, at least it was audible.

Hugh pushed himself into a sitting position, letting Grace slide into his lap. With a whine of protest, Lexi shifted until she was plastered against both of them again. “What’s wrong?”

The question almost made her laugh. Tipping her head forward, she pressed her forehead against his collarbone. “Besides almost dying? Again?”

“Yeah. Besides that.”

“My arm doesn’t seem to want to move.”

His hands were instantly on her, running from her wrist to her shoulder. “Where does it hurt?”

“My shoulder, mostly.” As he started manipulating it, she flinched. She’d been automatically stroking Lexi with her other hand, but she stopped for a second so she could shove against his chest. “Ow. Stop it.”

His face set and serious, he didn’t react to her push—or stop moving her shoulder. “It’s not dislocated. If it were, or if it were broken, I’d be peeling you off the ceiling right now.”

“Are you done with your sadistic science experiments now?” she asked, although her sarcasm was thinned by the quaver in her voice. Now that her shock was wearing off, and the realization that all three of them had survived was slowly starting to sink in, Grace wanted to laugh or cry or maybe dance around wildly, if only her shoulder wasn’t hurting so badly.

Hugh carefully lowered her aching arm to her side before reaching for Lexi. “How about you, partner?” he crooned, running his hands over her furry body. With a sound that was more sigh than whine, Lexi lay down next to them, not flinching at Hugh’s probing touch until he reached the area just behind her front legs. When Grace started to move out of his lap so Hugh could reach the dog more easily, he wrapped one arm around her and brought her firmly back down onto his thighs.

“Okay,” he said, finishing his examination of Lexi with one hand, since the other was busy keeping her snugly against his chest. “Hospital for Grace, and vet for Lexi.”

Any objection that Grace had about going to the emergency room disappeared when she shifted and accidentally jarred her injured arm. A wave of pain—so sharp she could taste it—flooded her. “Oh. Yes. Hospital, it is.”

Hugh shot her a look so full of concern that it made her want to cry again, but she clenched her teeth and forced back the tears. If she started, it would be big and ugly, with a ton of snot and racking sobs. She needed to wait until she got back to her new room and…

The thought trailed off as she remembered that she couldn’t go back to her safe-house bedroom, not without endangering Jules’s whole family. The tears rushed back, and Grace had to bite her tongue hard to keep them contained this time.

Hugh shifted her off his lap onto the floor next to him, and she instantly missed the comforting warmth of his hold. As he hauled himself to his feet, he kept his injured leg straight, hopping a few times on his good leg before he caught his balance. She watched him, concerned. Hugh always hid any sign that his injury was bothering him. If he was showing her that he was in pain, then he had to be in agony.

“How bad is your leg?”

He shrugged, concentrating a little too hard on untying the knotted nylon rope around him. “I’ll live.”

“I’m only going to the emergency room if you promise you’ll let them look at you, too.”

He eyed her sharply, but she held his gaze without flinching. “Fine,” he grumbled, throwing up his hands. The movement made Grace notice his palms, and she sucked in a harsh breath.

“Your hands!” Scrambling awkwardly to her feet, she rushed the few steps to him. Grabbing one of his wrists, she gently turned it over. His palm was raw and bleeding. Her gaze moved to the yellow rope, several feet of which had been stained a rusty color.

Following her gaze, he made a wry face. “Didn’t think to grab a pair of gloves.”

A laugh burst out of her. “So between us, we have one working hand? Good thing I don’t drive a stick shift.”

His grin, the one that usually infuriated her, was now the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.