Page 6 of Homecoming

“If I had known you were going to have this much stuff, I would have brought somebody with me to do the grunt work.”

Grace laughed. “You signed off on the plans and estimates. You knew exactly what I was getting. You were just too stubborn to bring anyone else in.”

Black scowled at her, stinging at the bit of truth. He was kind of shook that she pinpointed that. Yeah, he was a little prideful at being able to do this, but whatever. For a long time, he couldn’t even walk across a room, let alone move furniture. But Gracedidn’t know that. He didn’t even limp now, unless it had been an especially trying day. There was no outside indication of the way he’d been broken, other than his voice, and it would never get better. It was just an astute guess on her part.

They finished loading the boxes, and he watched as she secured the side door. Before he could think better of it, he’d held the passenger side door open for her.

This is not a fucking date, Black.

No, but he could be polite. She smiled up at him as she jumped into the truck, and Black tried not to be obvious as he inhaled her spicy scent. It reminded him of ginger. Was it her shampoo? Clenching his jaw, he circled the hood. The truck was already running, and the vents pumped out heat, once again, swirling her scent around him. This trip was going to be sweet torture.

Shifting into gear, he headed toward the North end of town. They’d gotten some snow two days ago, but the roads were fairly clear.

“How long does it take to get to the compound?” she asked, her gloved hands folded in her lap. At some point, she’d taken off the silly ears, and he kind of missed them.

“About half an hour.”

She lifted her brows. “Wow. I have to admit, I am curious.”

He sighed. That had been a sentiment he’d heard a lot recently. Townsfolk remarking that they would like to see what they’d built. A very few had, but so far, no one had talked about it. The first time someone talked, there would be an epic lawsuit. It was his job to protect these men up here, and he took that charge seriously.

“Do you miss New York?” he asked, then cursed himself. This wasn’t a social outing. He certainly didn’t want to encourage the interest he’d felt building between them.

She made a funny face, her nose scrunching. “I kind of do. It was nice being able to pick up the phone and literally eat your way around the world if you wanted to. I miss Thai food,” she said with a laugh. “It was nice having a store with everything you need within probably twenty feet of your front door. I was born and bred in North Carolina, though. My dad is from here. Mom was from Iowa, but she wasn’t close to her family out there.”

“It seems like you have a lot of family here,” he murmured.

Snorting, she sighed. “Yeah, I do. I’m one of three girls and three boys, and I’m kind of in the middle. We have a bunch of cousins, all about the same age. My dad has two sisters and two brothers who live here, and they had big families. If the surname is Lane or Fields, they’re probably related.”

He glanced at her across the space of the seat. “Wasn’t Lane one of the original settlers?”

Her eyes lit up. “Yes, clear back in Daniel Boone times. He headed in one direction and my great, great, great whatever headed in this direction. Stopped here when his boots fell to pieces, the story goes.”

She seemed proud of her family. It shone in her bright eyes and the slight upturn of her lips. Damn, those lips were so dark pink, and full. He’d dreamed of those lips.

Cursing internally, Black turned back to the road. What was the deal? He’d been dealing with Grace Lane for months now in a professional capacity, but it was hard to be reserved and stoic all the time. He carried a huge amount of responsibility, building up the Foxhole for the men, and it was finally paying off. Now that they had the housing, they were settling into a living rhythm. For a long time, it had been one emergency after another. Now, he was getting a little time to relax and slow down. And it had been a long time since he’d been with a woman.

But the situation they were in wasn’t something he could plan for. Aiden moving down early hadn’t been scheduled, so maybe that was putting him off.

Black slowed for the turn up the hill. The discreet sign with the foundation name and the gold fox head sat at the edge of the drive, and it looked legitimate. They were a real counseling center, kind of. That just wasn’t the entire scope of what they did. Elizabeth had even sicced some of her expensive lawyers on the job of declaring them a charity.

As his heavy-duty truck downshifted to take the grade, he glanced in the back to make sure everything was traveling well. Nothing seemed to have shifted. They reached the preliminary gate, and he keyed the remote on his visor. The big metal gates swung open almost soundlessly.

“Wow. Nice gates.”

Snorting, he headed up the mountain, wondering how bad this was going to be. There was a very good possibility the Foxhole would blow Grace’s mind.

THREE

Grace couldn’t believe how high up they were on the mountain. They had some people with summer cabins scattered around, but she didn’t think any of them were at this elevation. Mount Mitchell was less than twenty-five miles away, and it was the highest peak east of the Mississippi, so she shouldn’t have been surprised.

It was a huge amount of work to live in such a secluded location, though. They had some doomsday preppers and even some militia people scattered throughout the mountains, so she knew it could be done, but it was a massive undertaking.

Owen Black seemed to have the confidence to do it, though.

Owen was a disturbingly interesting man. The first time Grace had met him, she was sure she’d made a fool of herself. It had been at the bistro. She’d stopped in to pick up a to-go order for lunch, and her crazy aunt Tasha, her father’s sister, had grabbed her arm as she was checking out.

“I need you to come over here, Grace. Now. You need to know this man.”

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