She looked out her front window. The flowers in her window boxes were still blooming. Had her sweet neighbor Amanda watered them this entire time?
A black Tesla pulled up to the sidewalk in front of her house. Emery’s eyes widened and her heart beat high and fast. She didn’t move as Greer climbed out of the car, back-lit by the rising sun. Her breath rushed out.
He looked so incredibly good. Tall and strong and wearing his pistol on his hip like he always did around his ranch. The first moment she’d met him, that pistol had terrified her, but then she’d learned how good he was.
What about him killing Travis and all the anger, hatred, and resentment that had fueled her screaming at him and running from him last night?
She didn’t know how to reconcile all the conflicting emotions and confusing stories. Even though the Voice had revealed he was lying and she’d always thought he had his own agenda, she still was spitting mad at Greer. He’d killed her brother.
As Greer strode up the walk, she saw that he actually didn’t look good. He looked tired and disheveled and concerned. Ah, Greer. No matter what, he looked amazing to her.
Could she resolve loving the man who’d killed her brother? Not anytime soon, she couldn’t.
The doorbell rang. She couldn’t think about her messed-up relationship and feelings right now. She had to stop the Voice from killing them both and stealing some weapon from the Deltas.
Her jaw tightened. He’d even said he blamed himself for his son, Flynn, and Travis being in the situation. Was he or his boss to blame? His threat after pretending to be so kind made him sound unhinged and extremely dangerous. Maybe losing his son had put him over the edge.
Shakily, Emery walked to the door and swung it wide. Greer’s blue eyes met hers and all the worries and anger and sadness disappeared. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked so tired and beat up. She wanted to hold him close, but her feelings about her brother and the entire mess were too raw. Had he really raced through the night to get to her?
“Emery,” he murmured in a husky tone that sent shivers through her.
She stepped back and gestured him inside, surprising herself by not yelling at him again. “You’re not safe,” she whispered. “Get in here.”
His eyebrows rose, but he obeyed. She shut and locked the door, then turned to him. She wanted to say so many things, but she tried to focus on the essentials. “The Voice said he’ll kill both of us if I don’t find out the secret location of your weapon and tell it to him.”
Greer studied her. She felt her face flare. That had sounded like a dramatic line from a spy novel. Sparks crackled between them and it was hard not to get distracted with the need to throw herself against his beautiful chest, to feel the protection, safety, comfort, and excitement only Greer could offer her.
“I’ll keep you safe,” he said. He touched his hip, and she glanced at the gun he had strapped on. Was it the gun that had killed Travis? She’d gotten used to him wearing a pistol when they worked on his ranch and rode the perimeter of his property, and she knew Greer would never hurt her. He’d only protect her.
She blinked at him, wanting to cry, wanting to hold him, but knowing she couldn’t. “I know you will.” She backed up a step so she wouldn’t do something irrational like hug him. He’d treated her so kindly when she was at his home. She tried to return the favor despite the angst pulsing through her. “You’re probably exhausted. What do you need? A drink? A nap? Some food? The bathroom’s dusty from me being gone, but it’s semi-clean.”
He smiled slightly at her and her stomach flip-flopped. “The Voice’s phone number.”
“Oh. Yeah.” She opened the contact and handed the phone over to Greer. Their fingers brushed, and she jolted. He affected her every which way.
He gave her a longing look that yanked at her heart before pulling out his phone and texting the number to somebody. He handed her phone back, and she carefully took it without touching him.
“Well, let’s get you some food and something to drink and then you can nap while we wait for your papa to figure this out.”
Or for the Voice to show up and try to kill them both.
That was silly. The Voice shouldn’t be anywhere near here.
She tried to smile at Greer, but every part of her was shaky. She was so angry at him and part of her hated him for killing her brother and trying to objectively explain it to her last night.
“You’ve been taking care of me for nine days. I guess it’s time to return the favor,” she said when he only studied her with those penetrating blue eyes of his. “I have to warn you, though. The food in the fridge is probably all expired. Except the eggs. Eggs last a long time, right? And I just pulled a loaf of bread out of the freezer.”
She couldn’t handle him looking at her any longer. It was a begging look. Aplease forgive melook. Aplease love melook.
Pushing out a breath, she turned toward the kitchen. Greer’s hand on her arm stopped her, and she paused and stared up at him. Her traitorous body filled with warmth from the simple touch.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She blinked at him. A few moments passed, then she admitted, “I know you are.”
Did him being sorry change anything? Could she forgive him?
“Can you ever forgive me?” he asked, as if he’d read her mind.