Falling Grace. Melissa Shirley

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      Drawing in a calming breath, I put on my most practiced, fake smile, and turned to face him. “Deputy Wesley.”

      He looked around the table. Rory sat to my left, Jack next to her, her brother next to him, then his wife, and Rory’s parents. “We were wondering…” He motioned to the bar and a group of men, a couple of whom mockingly saluted with raised glasses.

      I leaned my cheek into the open palm of my hand, my arm braced against the table. “I can’t wait to hear. What were you wondering?”

      He looked me up and down, from cleavage to crossed legs, and my skin prickled. For the first time ever, I wanted to cover up in shame, or anger, under a man’s attention. “Do you really think dressing like a whore and shaking your pretty little ass in front of Blane is gonna make that woman any less guilty, or make him take it any easier on your client in court?”

      Jack and Tyler each stood to defend my honor, but handling men was one of my finer tuned skills. I looked over my shoulder and reassured them with a smile. Neither man sat, but neither advanced.

      I swept my gaze over Wesley’s overly ripe form. “Listen, Deputy Dawg, I don’t know how long it took you to drink enough courage to come over here, but I’m guessing you’re about six or seven drinks in.” I stood, tilted my head, and ran a finger under his long tie. As I advanced, he retreated. “And I’m also guessing you have a collection of complaints in your personnel file. I could probably dig up a bunch of plaintiffs who’d be lining up to sue your ass until a card box underneath an overpass would be too rich for your blood. So, I recommend you don’t screw with what you don’t know about. And make no mistake, you don’t know about me.”

      “That bitch is guilty as hell.”

      Blood pounded in my ears, but I shrugged a careless shoulder. “Prove it.”

      “People in this town ain’t gonna take well to some big city lawyer coming here to defend a baby killer. I’d watch my back if I were you.” He spit the words as though they tasted bad in his mouth.

      “Is that your pathetic version of a threat, officer?”

      He shook his head and smiled, holding up his hands and backing away. “Just a friendly warning, sweetheart.” He tipped his Stetson toward the table. “Y’all have a nice evening.”

      I rolled my eyes at his slurred term of anything but endearment. My heart performed a cowardly somersault, betraying the courage I’d spouted. I waited for him to walk away before I turned to Rory and pursed my lips. “Wow. You folks sure know how to make a girl feel welcome around here.”

      “You make friends quickly, don’t you?” Jack, because Rory still wasn’t speaking to me, chuckled as he spoke the words.

      “I’m a work in progress where social skills are concerned.”

      Tyler snickered into his napkin. “What the hell was that?”

      I toyed with the stem of my water glass. “I’m guessing it was the low budget version of the welcome wagon.”

      Rory cocked her head to the side. “Grace took Gabrielle Quinn’s case.”

      As though time shifted to a stop, silence enveloped our table. Six gazes rested on me. I lifted my chin a notch higher and willed the flush of heat to remain buried in my chest.

      “She killed her daughter.”

      It didn’t matter who said it, and at that moment, I couldn’t have pointed a finger at who uttered the words, but anger pulsed hard in my veins. Had no one in the great state of Texas ever heard of the United States Constitution? Did innocent until proven guilty not apply here?

      I picked up my bag, pushed my chair back, then turned to Mrs. Jordyn. “Thank you for inviting me. I’ve had a wonderful time.” I hadn’t seen Rory since we graduated college and vowed to remain best friends. I’d only talked to her a few times before she called to propose this partnership, but I’d assumed bringing me here and inviting me back into her life implied friendship. Yet, she hadn’t stood to defend me against the deputy, and now she had turned our table into a hostile environment.

      “Grace, don’t go.”

      Her soft voice and small measure of pleading came a little bit too late to calm my anger. I shook off the hand Rory put on my arm. “I need to get home and unpack. My place is a wreck.” I formulated the excuse despite the strong urge to call her out on her less than friendly behavior. It took a full ten seconds for my frustration to clear enough for me to remember I’d ridden with Rory and Jack. “I’ll call a cab. You guys enjoy your evening.”

      When I turned to try to fish my cell out of my bag, I slammed forehead first into Blane’s chest. I bounced off, jostling my chair against the edge of the table. His hands caught my waist and held me upright. “Leaving so soon?”

      “Yes.” I stepped around him, gathered the hem of my dress into my fist, and almost jogged to the door. With no ticket to hand the valet, I made my way down the circle drive toward the street. A sharp grip wrapped tightly around my elbow and tugged, stopping my progress. Inhaling a gasp, I jerked free, but didn’t move to get farther away.

      “Let me take you home.” The curved sounds of his words softened the demand in his voice.

      I shook my head. “Why? Nothing can come of this. You’re the prosecutor, and I’m some kind of social pariah for doing my job. Run away while you still can.”

      “I don’t run from anything.” He stepped back. “I’m only sorry you do.”

      “What do you want from me, Blane? You want me to give up and walk away from this woman because her crime is too horrible for you? If it’s not me, it’ll be somebody else. You’re still going to have to fight the same fight.”

      “But I won’t have to fight you.” His voice dropped to a slow, seductive vibration as he stepped closer.

      “Does it really matter?”

      “It does to me.” He ducked his head for a second as though his words embarrassed him. “Come on. Let me take you home. We can work the rest out later.” He blinked twice. “Come on.”

      As though Mother Nature planted her feet on his side of the ride debate, a loud clap of thunder rolled overhead. “It’s hard to make a good exit scene here.” I didn’t have an umbrella, and the shoes, while one of the prettiest pairs I owned, pinched my toes and squeezed most of the blood flow from my feet. Taking the ride made sense. Lightning split the sky. “A ride sounds great.”

      He smiled, held out his hand, and led me back to the valet station. After a moment, a small foreign car with a shiny paintjob and a convertible top pulled up.

      Blane helped me in and leaned down, feathering a soft kiss against my cheek. Then, he straightened and walked around the front. In seconds, we were off, zooming around curves, over hills and down straight-aways toward my apartment. He pulled up in front, and I glanced from my building to him.

      I crinkled my brow, then offered a smile. “How do you know where I live?”

      He shut off the ignition. “I made it my business to know about you.”

      I couldn’t decide if that fell СКАЧАТЬ