He whirled around. His face was angry red, and his lips were pressed together so hard they were a bloodless white. Pain glowed in his eyes—a kind of pain she hadn’t seen since the day he’d been arrested for killing Lavine and hauled off to jail in handcuffs. “Never, okay! I’m never going to be worthy of that kind of responsibility. I’m great at keeping people alive. You want me to kill someone? I can take them out from so far away they’ll never hear the sound of the bullet that ripped their brains out. But I can’t be responsible for raising anything resembling a normal adult.” His voice grew softer, regretful. “It’s just not in me, no matter how much I wish it was. I know that now.”
Isabelle was stunned silent. She’d had no idea he felt that way. How could one man be so wrong about himself? She had to make him see reason—see the truth. “I’ve never known a man who will make a better father than you.”
“Bullshit,” he snapped.
“Hardly. Do you really think I’d put Dale with someone I thought would be bad for him?”
“You’re desperate,” he said as if that explained everything.
“Asking you was not an act of desperation. Who better to raise Dale than someone who knows where he’s been? What he’s going through?”
“The blind leading the blind?” scoffed Grant. “Is that your idea of good parenting?”
“You’re not blind. You’re experienced. You know the price a child pays when his parents don’t care. You’ve lived it.”
His gaze went to the carpet, and his shoulders hunched in shame. “Which means I’ll make the same mistakes.”
“No. It means you’ll know better than to make them.”
Grant shook his head. “I can’t talk about this anymore. Just let it go, Isabelle. Find someone else.”
He was hurting, and she was causing it. She had to stop pushing, at least for now. She’d give him time to think about what she’d said, but there was one more thing he needed to know. “Taking care of Dale is not something I would ever coerce you into doing, but whoever I’d find to care for him will be my second choice.”
Grant let out a heavy sigh of regret. “I can’t be the man you want.”
“You already are.”
“I don’t mean sex.”
“Neither do I.”
She couldn’t stand seeing him hurt any longer without trying to comfort him. She had to touch him, had to try to ease him. She didn’t want him to feel like he was alone. He’d been alone for too long.
Isabelle went to him and ran her fingers through his hair to straighten it. The smooth strands slid between her fingers, and Grant stood statue still, letting her fuss over him.
“Maybe you were only a good time in bed to a lot of the other women you’ve encountered, but you’re a lot more than that to me. You always will be,” she told him. “You know that, right? You know what a great man you are, don’t you?”
The tightness around his mouth softened. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought she saw the hint of tears welling in his eyes. Sometimes it was easy to forget Grant was human like the rest of the world. He was so capable and confident, like he could carry the weight of the world on his shoulders and still have room for more.
He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “You shouldn’t have so much faith. People will just let you down.”
“Not you,” she assured him. “You’ve never once let me down.”
“If you hang out with me long enough, I will.”
“Is that an invitation?”
His jaw tensed, though she couldn’t tell if it was anger or frustration that caused it. “Isabelle, I can’t—”
She covered his mouth with her fingers. The smooth warmth of his lips made her shiver. “I know. I shouldn’t have said that. I understand the rules between us.”
He pulled her hand away. “Damn it. There aren’t any rules.”
“Yes, there are. For both of us.” She couldn’t give up her dreams, not even for Grant. She’d learned the hard way that a man who didn’t want what she wanted out of life would never make her happy. Nor would she make him happy. And she wanted Grant to be happy, even if it was with someone else.
She’d be smart if she just learned to enjoy him now, get over her feelings for him, and move on with her life. Let him do the same. It wasn’t fair of her to try to make him something he didn’t want to be, no matter how good at it she thought he’d be.
She’d stop pushing so she didn’t mess up what little time they had left. She had now, and for now, she was the luckiest woman alive, and would be until the day he left.
Maybe today if the police found Wyatt.
She wouldn’t think about that now. She couldn’t. Letting him go was going to rip her apart. She loved him. She couldn’t pretend it was something else any longer. Her childhood hero worship had turned into something deeper, something more permanent.
Something she was going to have to learn to live with when he was gone.
Isabelle stepped back, separating herself from him even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. “I’ll leave you alone.”
He grabbed her hand before she moved out of reach. “No. Don’t leave.”
She turned toward him again and saw something in his face she’d never seen before. Uncertainty. He was frowning, and his eyes were darting around the room.
“Grant? Are you okay?”
“No. I just . . . don’t leave me.” The words came out strangled, like he couldn’t get enough air.
“Okay. I’ll stay.”
He didn’t act like he heard her, he just kept talking. He pulled her against his body and caged her with his arms. “I’ll make you feel good if you stay, Isabelle. I swear it.”
Instantly, her body responded to his offer and his nearness. Her skin grew warm and her stomach tightened. She couldn’t seem to look away from his mouth. She wanted to kiss him, but not because he was worried she’d leave him. She had to convince him that she’d stay with him even if he didn’t make promises that heated her blood.
“You don’t have to do that to make me stay,” she told him.
He tightened his grip as if he thought she might be jerked away from him if he didn’t hold on tight enough. She’d never heard Grant beg, but he was getting frighteningly close. “I need you. Please.”
She opened her mouth to reassure him she wouldn’t go anywhere, but before she could speak, he kissed her. It was a hot, desperate kiss that made her toes curl inside her shoes and her lungs work overtime. His tongue slid inside her mouth to find hers, and all her thoughts scattered. All she knew was that the man she loved was kissing her—needing her—and she couldn’t bring herself to push aside something she wanted so much.
Her body relaxed against his, melting into his tight embrace. She didn’t even have to worry about standing up under her own power. Grant would keep her steady.
His kisses moved over her chin and down her throat, nipping and licking as he went. “That’s right, honey. Just let me make you feel good.”
And he was. Already her body was humming along, eager for whatever he did. Her fingers dug into his back, and she loved the feel of his hard, powerful muscles bunching whenever he moved. He was so strong, but it didn’t make her feel weak by comparison. Instead it made her feel safe, protected.
His quick, elegant fingers unhooked her bra and slid around front to tease her breasts. Without touching her nipples, where she wanted him most, he traced a spiral path over her skin, making her arch her back.
“I want to see you,” he told her as he tugged her shirt and bra off over her head. She was sure her flyaway hair was a static-y mess, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.
The room was bright, with sunlight streaming in through the window, but she didn’t care about that, either. She wanted him to look at her if that excited him, and it had last night. She’d never forget the way his eyes darkened to bronze when he looked at her naked body. Just like they were right now as he stared at her naked breasts.
His half-lidded eyes, heavy with arousal, fixed on her chest. He drew one long finger over the swell of her breasts in a touch so light she wanted to scream for more. “I love how you blush here for me. Such a turn-on to know you can’t hide how much you want me.”
Isabelle hadn’t realized her flushed chest turned him on, but she was glad it did, because there was nothing she could have done to stop it. “It’s only fair,” she told him as she pressed her palm against his erection. “You’d never be able to hide this, either.”
Grant groaned, and his head fell back. Isabelle was filled with a rush of womanly power knowing she’d done that to him with just a touch. It made her feel bold and more than a little aggressive to wield such power over a man as strong as Grant.
She wanted him naked so she could feel his erection filling her hands as she stroked him. She wanted to hear the sounds he made when she touched him just right and see the way his body tensed as he held back from the brink of orgasm.
Isabelle managed to get his fly open, but his jeans were too tight for her to push them down. Grant obliged her by stripping, flinging his clothes to the floor.
She watched, fascinated by the way he moved. Sleek, powerful muscles shifted under his skin, making her mouth water. He didn’t try to hide from her but stood there and let her look her fill.
He was blindingly beautiful in the bright light of day. His skin was smooth and tan, though there were a few pale scars here and there that marked the risks he’d taken and sacrifices he’d made in the line of duty.
She found one near his left shoulder and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the mark.
Grant shivered. “Take off your pants, Isabelle.”
She ignored his order and found another small scar on his ribs. She kissed it, as well, and watched in awe as the muscles in his stomach rippled.
She spied another scar on his right hip and knelt so she could reach it, too. She lingered over the kiss, swirling her tongue over the mark, making him shiver.
His erection bobbed in front of her, impossible to miss. She gave him a wicked smile, then ran the tip of her tongue up the length.
Grant hissed out a vivid curse and fisted his hands in her hair. Since he’d come into her life, she finally understood all those women who enjoyed performing oral sex on men. It was a thrill to see his reaction, to wield the tremendous power to make him feel so good he shook with the force of it.
She took him into her mouth, and she could feel his body quiver with barely controlled passion. Oh, yeah. She could get used to this.
He didn’t give her much time to enjoy herself before he pulled away and lifted her to the bed. “Pants. Off,” he said in words so thick with need they were nearly unintelligible.
Isabelle grinned and obliged him by stripping out of her slacks. She lay back on the wide bottom bunk bed, wearing only a pair of green satin panties.
Grant’s eyes zeroed in on those panties and his cheeks darkened. “Tease,” he accused.