Sweet Surrender

CHAPTER 8

Gray increased his pace as his feet pounded the padded indoor track. He still wasn’t one hundred percent after taking a bullet in the leg the night Alex had been killed, and his body didn’t mind letting him know it.

Sweat rolled down his neck and soaked into the muscle shirt that clung to him like a second skin. Thoughts of Faith crowded his mind, and it pissed him off.

Since arriving in Houston, he’d thought of everything but what he should be thinking about: catching Alex’s killer.

Guilt weighed heavy on him. Fact was, ever since he’d left Dallas, he’d felt lighter, like a great burden had been lifted. In Dallas, he’d woken up every single day to the reality of Alex’s murder. He’d eaten, drunk, and slept with the memories of that night ricocheting through his head like a Ping-Pong ball.

But here…Here he felt freer. A little lighter. When he was with Faith, he forgot about Alex, Mick and that Faith was his only viable link to Samuels.

His body screamed, and he realized he’d pressed to a full run. The muscles in his injured leg quivered and rolled. He forced himself to slow, and then he came to a stop, his chest burning like he’d just sucked on a blowtorch.

He put his hands on his knees and bent over, drawing deep mouthfuls of air into his aching lungs. Punishing himself wouldn’t help. It might make him feel a little better, because in his mind, he deserved it, but it still wouldn’t change anything.

He picked up the towel he’d discarded earlier and draped it around his neck. With one of the ends, he mopped his sweaty brow as he walked toward the locker room.

After a quick shower, he changed into jeans and a T-shirt then slid his cell phone into his pocket. He hadn’t even gotten to the door when his pocket pulsed and vibrated against his leg. He sighed in exasperation and dug it out again.

He flipped it open and put it to his ear. “Montgomery here.”

“Hi, Gray. It’s Faith.”

Her soft voice whispered through his veins, and his shoulders relaxed as the tension uncoiled and loosened.

“Hey,” he said, irritated at the catch in his voice.

“I just wanted to check in and see how you were feeling.”

Gray felt a twinge of guilt. He was supposed to be at home sick, and instead, he was working out in a gym in plain sight. Not entirely smart.

He shielded the mouthpiece of the phone as he stepped out of the club and into the parking lot. He hurried over to his truck and got in so Faith wouldn’t hear the noise of the city around him.

“I’m good, thanks to your cooking,” he said.

She laughed softly, the sound sending a little spasm of pleasure through his chest. “I thought I’d stop by a little later and bring you some supper.”

He paused and shook his head at the giddy rush he got over the idea of seeing her again. He was acting like a lovesick fool.

“Unless you’re resting,” she added in a rush. “I don’t want to disturb you.”

“No, not at all,” he hurried to say. “I’ve been up and around all afternoon.”

“Okay then, I’ll come by around five thirty if you’re sure I won’t be a bother.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Gray said truthfully.

He hung up the phone and checked his watch. Plenty of time to get back to the apartment before Faith and the others got home from work.

It was becoming a habit of hers, standing on Gray’s doorstep, nervous about going in. Which was ridiculous when she thought about it. He was just a man. Okay, well maybe not just anything. But still, she could do without the quivery knees every time she came into contact with him.

She knocked and waited, determined to be confident and composed. When he opened the door, she donned her brightest smile and held out the casserole dish to him.

“Sausage and potato casserole. Guaranteed to cure what ails you. It’s great comfort food.”

He smiled and took the still-warm container from her. “Come in, please.”

Their fingers brushed as she relinquished the casserole to him, and she acknowledged the latent pull between them. It was there even when it wasn’t. If that made any sense.

He set the dish down on his bar and walked around to the fridge. “I just made some fresh tea. You want some?”

She nodded and took a seat on a nearby barstool, watching as he collected ice in glasses. He poured the tea, and the ice crackled and popped, clinking against the glass as it moved around.

When he set her glass in front of her, she took a long sip, savoring the sweet flavor on her tongue.

“Any good?” he asked, nodding his head at her glass.

“Mmmm delicious,” she said as she ran her tongue over her lips to collect the droplets.

He grinned. “It’s my grandma’s recipe. Sun tea. When I was a kid, she’d brew a whole gallon on a post in her garden. She’d let it sit out the entire day in the sun. Always swore there wasn’t anything better.”

“I think I agree,” Faith said as she savored another long swallow.

After draining the glass, she set it back down on the bar and let her gaze wander lazily over Gray. “You look like you feel much better,” she observed.

“Yes, much. Thanks to your TLC.”

She blushed and ducked her head, and he chuckled as if he knew it was how she’d respond.

“Will you be back at work tomorrow?” she asked as she peeked back up at him from underneath her lashes.

“Count on it,” he said.

She put her hand down on the bar and pushed herself up off the stool. “Then I’ll see you in the morning.”

He looked vaguely chagrined, as if he had no desire for her to go. His next words confirmed it. “Do you have to go so soon?”

She smiled. “Yeah, I promised Pop I’d be over to eat with him and Connor. It’s lasagna night.”

He circled around the bar and stopped mere inches from her. He was so close his body heat enveloped her. His scent flitted across her nostrils. Clean. He smelled of soap and a fresh shower.

“One of these days, you’re going to quit running every time we get close,” he murmured. “You’re harder to catch and hold onto than a greased pig.”

“Pig?” Her mouth fell open. “Did you just compare me to a pig?”

He laughed, his eyes twinkling as he raked a hand through his short-cropped hair. “Hell, that didn’t come out well. My point is that one of these days, I want you to actually stick around for more than two minutes. You have a habit of hightailing it every time we get together. I might start taking it personally if it doesn’t stop.”

Heat bloomed in her cheeks, and a tendril of pleasure wrapped around her chest and snaked up her spine.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she murmured.

He seemed to be closer than he was a few minutes ago. She nervously wet her lips and knew that if she didn’t leave, he was going to kiss her. Did she want him to?

Part of her did. Very much. But another part of her loved the anticipation. The subtle cat and mouse game they played. The attraction between them was building, and she knew it was only a matter of time before things erupted between them.

He hovered even closer. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, but instead of kissing her lips, he cupped the back of her neck with his hand and pressed his mouth to her forehead.

Her eyes flew open as he pulled away. She almost grinned. So…he was giving her a dose of her own medicine, was he? She reached up on tiptoe and brushed her lips briefly across his, certainly not hard enough to constitute a full-blown kiss.

Then she smiled as his eyes sparked and his pupils dilated. She settled back on her heels and sashayed toward the door. When she reached it, she turned around and stared at him.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”