Page 67 of Operation Protector
Ali had noticed Colby in the background, and that his jaw was beyond tight. She thought she might know what was bothering him, but didn’t want to bring it up in a crowd, as it were.
The security check was thorough, using some device Teague said their tech guy in St. Louis had developed. She let out a breath of relief when he pronounced the place clean. Then he quickly showed her how to use the handheld scanner, and pointed out likely places for someone to hide any devices. That part made her a little nervous, and she wondered how long it would take her to get that idea out of her head, how easy it would be for someone to spy like that.
He was as nice, and clearly as dedicated as everyone at Foxworth seemed to be. And when he noticed she was a bit antsy about all this, he entertained her with the story of how Cutter had brought him and his wife together. She couldn’t help laughing at the tale of the usually fastidious Cutter rolling in every mudhole he could find, requiring a trip to Laney’s grooming shop every other day. And how everyone else at Foxworth had magically been too busy to go and pick up the mischievous dog when Laney was done with him.
“If he’s got his mind set you belong together, you might as well give in. And by the way,” he said over his shoulder as he headed into her office to check her computer gear for any sign of incursion or spyware, “he’s never been wrong.”
In the time it took him to complete the scans, she worked on convincing herself that all the stuff about Cutter connecting couples who belonged together was just a teasing story they toldto put people at ease in stressful situations. She even almost believed it.
The whole time she kept looking next door, warily. But as it happened, they didn’t have to deal with Liz, only Irene, who noticed him getting ready to leave as she was preparing to go pick up Grace from school. Knowing it would be reported to Liz, Ali cheerfully dragged him over as if he truly were a reluctant sibling, introduced him as her brother, neatly dropped in that his wife had gotten her the dog sitting politely between them, and that he was just here for a short visit.
“Nicely done,” Teague said with a smile when the woman had gone. “You sure you’ve never done this before?”
“Never.”
He got back into his car, still smiling. “Well, you pulled it off like you’ve been performing all your life.”
“Unless you count a school play once, I’ve never acted at all.”
Except when I told people I was fine, after Josh died. That was the biggest fakery of all time.
As she watched him go, she pondered the memory that had just hit her. She hadn’t thought about those days much at all lately. Well, since Grace had come into her life, actually.
And Colby.
That was the biggest shift. She had to admit it. She hadn’t denied that from the first she found him attractive. Even when he’d essentially kidnapped her puppy, and they’d found him worried and bloody back in those trees. But when the full story had come out, when she’d realized what he’d risked, how much he’d put up with for the sake of the little girl he so loved, it had moved him way beyond just attractive.
Chapter 30
After a day of absolutely no progress, and a night spent more awake than asleep, Colby had finally laced up his running shoes just after dawn and taken off to get rid of some of this tension. He pushed harder than usual, thinking that if nothing else, his legs should be too tired for the seemingly endless pacing he’d done all day yesterday.
When he got out of the shower after the workout, he found that the Foxworths had been and gone, leaving a note saying they were checking out something their tech guy at the St. Louis office had found. They’d also thoughtfully brought breakfast, although the famous cinnamon rolls from the local bakery just reminded him of how Grace had wanted him to take one to Ali. And how much he would have enjoyed doing just that.
But no, he couldn’t do that, he couldn’t be seen at her place, or with her. And it was driving him crazy, this taking a back seat through all this. Not that he didn’t think Foxworth was more than capable of handling this—they’d handled much, much bigger cases, after all—but he felt…useless. Useless and helpless. As he so often had when facing the Hollens and the power they could bring to bear.
But he had no choice. If he pushed, they would somehow take Grace away from him completely, and he didn’t think he could bear that. And worse, he was terrified that Grace would do something desperate, something that would blow up everything and endanger her.
When he heard the tires on gravel, he thought maybe the Foxworths had forgotten something and come back. He was startled when the door swung open and he heard dog paw steps. For some reason all he could think of was Quinn explaining to him how with Cutter’s toenail length they had to strike a balance between short enough to not cause problems but long enough to use if he needed to, like running over rough ground, or climbing. But that idle memory vanished when the reality of him appearing here hit.
If Cutter was here then so was Ali.
He spun around, nearly colliding with Cutter. The dog dodged him neatly, nudged his hand in greeting, but then started bumping the back if his knees, as if urging him to move toward the door.
“I was going, dog,” he muttered, unable not to think about the tales he’d been told about the dog’s other capabilities.
“Colby?”
Damn. Just the sound of her voice… Even over the phone it got him revved up. The sound of it here, in person, and saying his name…he had no words for how that made him feel.
And then she was there, a wide smile on her lovely face. Her hair was tied back, and the sight of it just made him want to free it, to see all the colors of autumn tumbling down her back. Those eyes made him think of the spring that was just around the corner, and the trees here in his beloved Northwest that never lost that green.
And when did you start getting…seasonal?
“I was just thinking about you.” He hadn’t expected his voice to be quite so rough, and he hastily cleared his throat and explained. Or tried to. “Quinn and Hayley brought cinnamon rolls, and I was remembering how the last time we were at the bakery Grace wanted to bring one home to you, in case you’d never had one.”
“Are those the famous ones?” she asked, as if she’d noticed nothing odd about either his voice, or what he’d said. She walked over to where he’d gestured at the white bag on the table. And once more he found himself fascinated—a bit too fascinated—with the way she moved, that slight sway, and the way her sweater clung to certain places.
He had to swallow again before he could even say just, “Yeah.”
