ChapterEleven
After a lot of desperate, rambling prayers, Emery finally fell back asleep. She thought she’d be more upset and terrified, but she focused on how incredible it had felt to be cocooned in Greer’s arms and she felt at peace.
The next morning, she worried things would be tense and awkward between them, but again she felt surprisingly comfortable around him. Greer was kind and patient as ever. He’d already done the morning chores before she woke up and had sausage and French toast ready for her. She teased him about slowing down and savoring the food and he gave her the most irresistible smiles and sometimes even laughed.
A week went by. A crazy fast, incredible week. They fell into a comfortable but often exhilarating and confusing existence. Greer taught her things she could do to help him with different chores, unless it was something too intricate like when he rewired the barn’s generator that had shorted out and she oohed and ahhed over how handy he was, to which she received a slow, embarrassed grin. Or something that required brawny muscle like lifting hay or straw bales and then she oohed and ahhed over how buff he was, to which she got a slow, adorable grin.
They took breaks from work occasionally and did some fun activities like kayaking, hiking, and mountain biking. He even took her rock climbing and rappelling, which terrified her, but she trusted Greer. That should’ve been the terrifying thing, how much she trusted him, but it was instinctive for her. She wanted to spend every minute with him.
On the Fourth of July, they’d had a private barbecue and watched the fireworks his family set off across the lake from his comfy back patio furniture. She felt bad he wasn’t with his family because of her, but she was terrified to open up the can of worms that she wasn’t Taylor, there was no boyfriend chasing her, that he should mistrust her and she should hate him. So she didn’t broach the subject. He must’ve told his family not to come visit as no one bothered them, but she said nothing about it.
On Sunday they did only the basic chores, had a Bible study together, watched a few episodes of The Chosen, went on two long walks, and cooked more intricate meals.
She talked his ear off most of the time and often made him smile and laugh. Sometimes she got him to talk about himself and sometimes they had a comfortable silence between them.
She used his washing machine every night to wash her dirty clothes, socks, and underwear, then traded them out each morning. Every night she still slept in his T-shirt. He never said anything about her clothes.
In the late evenings, they went for a walk after nightly chores and then watched a movie. They didn’t touch each other often, only when he helped her off a horse or when he held her each night after he woke her up from the nightmare. She wished the stupid nightmare would go away, but she loved having Greer hold her. It was not only comforting and sweet, but it made her warm all over and made her want to kiss him good and long. The problem was after the nightmare she was always reminded of why she was here and why she shouldn’t be clinging to Greer, dreaming of kissing Greer, or letting herself fall for Greer.
This was Growly Greer, who’d murdered her brother.
But it wasn’t. It was her cowboy Maverick.
He was her protector, her friend, and he made her heart race in a very pleasant way. She loved his smile, his patience, his tough body, his accepting nature, his handsome face, his confidence, his laugh, and his kindness to her. There wasn’t much she didn’t love about Greer.
Except that he’d killed her brother.
But had he? More and more, she was convinced that Greer could not have done it. The Greer she was coming to know and … like very strongly, could never coldly shoot someone between the eyes. Especially a good someone like her older brother.
Could the Voice be lying to her, manipulating her to steal something from the Delta family? It seemed likely. The Voice texted her every night, hoping for updates and checking that she felt safe and comfortable. His texts came across as kind and patient. She kept telling him she was gaining Greer’s trust like he’d asked her to and it wouldn’t be an easy or quick thing. She also reassured him that Greer was a complete gentleman.
She wanted to call out the Voice and demand the truth, but she doubted he’d give it to her. She was tempted to tell Greer everything and see what he knew, what his perspective was, and if anyone in heaven loved her, he would tell her he absolutely hadn’t killed her brother and the Voice was a liar and a con artist.
Did she dare ask?
Greer didn’t say much, so it wasn’t like he said her name often. But when he did, he called her Taylor. She wanted to hear Emery on his lips, right after he kissed her.
It was Wednesday night, eight days after she’d first arrived. They were trying to decide which movie to watch—she was lobbying for the old Top Gun—when the doorbell rang. They both froze. He’d told her that his family rarely came to see him. She looked at him and whispered, “Should I hide?”
He nodded.
She hurried into her bedroom and softly closed the door then leaned against it, trying to listen. She heard footsteps, followed by the door opening. A voice called out, “Greer! I’m here!”
“Hi, Bentley,” Greer’s deep voice came.
Bentley? Bentley? He didn’t have a brother or cousin named Bentley, did he?
Their footsteps returned and she could hear this Bentley excitedly talking about a lacrosse game and Chandler. Greer did have a brother Chandler who played professional lacrosse.
There was a rap on her door. “Taylor?”
Her heartbeat ramped up. Who was this Bentley and what would him coming here tonight mean for her?
She pulled the door open and met Greer’s blue gaze. He nodded to her and stepped back, revealing a thirty-something man who smiled pleasantly at her. There was something vacant about his gaze.
“Bentley,” Greer said, “this is my … friend.”
Was he going to get away with not sharing her name?