“Lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere.”
Oh, holy shit no. “Meaning?”
“I’m staying in town, at the Severn Motel.”
The historic place in the center of town, right next to the fire station and far too close to Shadow Hill. He could get in
his car and be there with her . . . yeah, he needed more distance. “For how long?”
“However long it takes.”
Callen blocked Declan out. Pretended he wasn’t there, or at least couldn’t hear. “I’m serious here. Are we talking a day, more than one? What the hell does your cryptic comment mean?”
But Callen feared he knew. Grace Pruitt was not a woman to be ignored. From the way she looked to the confident way she carried her body, she demanded attention. Just seeing her on that bar stool that day nine months ago had him plunging under and scrambling to find air. They talked and flirted, and when he’d left three hours later he had her number. By the next night he didn’t need it, because he had her right beside him, most nights under him.
Or so he had thought. Apparently it had all been a part of a plan to collect information.
“Really, Grace, what do you want?”
“I don’t think you’re ready for that answer, so I’ll just say your running days are over.”
There it was again. She shifted all the blame to him, as if he were the problem, rather than her convenient memory loss. “I have no idea what you’re getting at. Do you have a plan?”
“To make you see reason.”
Declan snorted. “Little chance of that.”
“You, I like.” She shot Declan another smile as she stepped between the brothers and headed for her car. “Room two-eighteen.”
“I won’t be visiting.” For some reason Callen felt the need to say it. Maybe if he shouted it loud enough and often enough he could make it true.
She waved a hand in the air but didn’t turn around or say anything. Just kept going, those impressive hips swishing from side to side, until she got to the car. A chirp of the alarm and she opened the door and hopped in.
A minute later Callen watched her vehicle back down the driveway, inching away as that familiar sense of dread clogged his throat. He wanted not to give a shit, to write her off as a liar and not care. More than three months away and he hadn’t mastered that skill yet.