Page 51 of Homecoming

“I’m not sick. Just exhausted. My niece and nephews had whatever Andy had earlier this week, and I’ve been taking care of them. I haven’t showered yet, though, so you may not want to be here. It’s really contagious, whatever it is.”

“I don’t get sick,” Owen said, moving to sit on the side of her bed. He reached for her forehead, but she drew back.

“I’m fine, I promise. Mom and I have both managed to avoid it. Seems like everyone else that was at Christmas, though, got sick.”

“I don’t get sick, Grace. Not since Spartan.”

Oh, yeah. That. She let him rest a hand on her forehead, closing her eyes at his touch. He was very gentle, his fingers cool.

“No fever,” he murmured, his voice so deep and raspy. It seemed worse since they’d talked on Christmas night.

“You sound bad,” she whispered. “Are you sick?”

“I’ve been yelling a lot.”

That made her smile slightly. Had she ever seen Owen even raise his voice? Definitely not. He was so steady, and his guys leaned in to listen to him. “Right,” she said, her eyes falling closed. His scent wrapped around her, and in the back of hermind she knew she should probably be upset that he had broken into her house, but she couldn’t find it in her. Quite the opposite, actually.

“Why have you been yelling?” she asked, resting her head back on the pillow.

Owen huffed out a sigh. “I’ve been a bit of a bear waiting for a text message or a call.”

“I’m sorry, Owen,” Grace said, wincing. “My sister-in-law’s parents went down Christmas night, and her daughter got sick the next night, and then her sons. Beck is useless when it comes to sickness, so I volunteered to go over. I’ve been there three nights taking care of them, and I was exhausted. I came home and crashed.”

Owen nodded, clasping his hands in front of himself. “That’s fine. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“But I do,” she said, sitting up to face him. “I wasn’t intentionally putting you off. I just haven’t had time to call. But I have been thinking about what you told me, and I have some questions.”

Owen’s gaze flicked down her chest, and Grace realized she wasn’t wearing much. Just a threadbare tee and no bra. She straightened her back a little, giving the girls a little better look. “Maybe I can shower real quick and we’ll talk. If you’re not in a hurry.”

Owen looked away, nodding. “I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.”

Grace sped through her shower, washing away all the funk and ickiness. She needed to change her sheets, too, make sure the sickness hadn’t followed her home. When she walked out into the kitchen, feeling more normal than she had in days, she felt more ready to talk to him.

Owen sat at the tiny kitchen table, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. His hat rested on the end of the table. She glanced at the clock on the microwave. Two a.m. Maybe notthe best time for coffee. She reached for a tea canister and ran a mug of hot water from the Keurig. She added a splash of cream and settled to the opposite side of the table from him.

Man, he looked good. His dark hair was crimped from the hat, of course, but the curls looked springy. His hard eyes were a little softer as they looked at her, but definitely guarded. Actually, she realized he looked tired. Like he hadn’t been sleeping.

Grace had had a long time to think about what he’d told her about the men on the mountain, and overall, she was just mad. Mad at her own government for sanctioning the testing, mad at the people with money, mad that they had to hide out just to be safe.

She’d seen the way the men up there reacted to her, and reacted to Owen. They just wanted a home like everyone else. And they deserved that.

“First and foremost, you have my word that I won’t tell anyone about your men, or what happened to you. It’s nobody’s business but your own.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I would certainly never risk Fallon’s safety.”

He gave a tight nod.

She took a sip of her tea. “I guess I’m a little unsure what exactly you want to hear? I definitely want to continue to see you, if you don’t mind coming down the mountain, occasionally,” she teased. “Or maybe you’ll finally let me drive up the mountain.”

Owen took a breath, and it seemed a little quivery to her, like a heavy tension had eased away.

“Okay,” he said, voice flat. “I would be happy to come down the mountain.”

Grace chuckled and felt a thrill run through her, despite his deadpan delivery. “You’re very hard to read sometimes.”

He shifted in the chair and looked at her. “I’m sorry for that. I don’t mean to be. We’ve just learned to keep as much as we could inside, and not let anyone see what they were doing affected us.”

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