Page 57 of Ultimate Justice

“Not to my dad.” He shook his head. “At least, not back then. He was a colonel in the Air Force, all rules and regulations. He wanted us to study hard, get good grades and sports scholarships. He never understood Gracie wasn’t wired that way. So they argued. A lot. And my mom was passive about it. That’s what led to Gracie becoming a habitual runaway. Whenever the arguments escalated, she bolted, but she always came back.”

“I’m guessing after Gracie disappeared,” Marlie said, easily seeing where this was going, “your dad blamed himself for not accepting her for who and what she was, and your mom blamed herself for not standing up for her.”

“You nailed it.” He nodded sadly. “The Amazing Grace Foundation is their way of making up for their mistakes. Or trying to. Since then, they’ve helped a lot of kids. Most who walked in the door stayed until they reunited with their family or child services found them foster families. Only a few left and never came back.”

“I read the Foundation brochure. They’ve done a wonderful job making a safe place for kids.” According to the brochure, the Amazing Grace Foundation had been established over twenty years ago. “Your parents are special people for doing what they do.” If only she could have taken a page from their book.

“They are.” He uncapped the bourbon and poured another inch into the glass. “So are the Wilsons. Gracie used to babysit for their daughter, Jenny. Whenever Gracie ran away, we could usually find her at their house.” He took a sip before handing her the glass.

A lump of selfish guilt clogged her throat as she recalled how dysfunctional she’d been in the years following Aiden’s death. “I admire what your parents have done. I never had the strength to channel my grief into something productive.” The room had turned cold, and a shiver ran through her. “I wish I’d been stronger.”

He tugged a blanket from the edge of the sofa. As he draped it around her shoulders, his fingers grazed her neck. She shivered again but not from the cold. This time it was from the undeniable arousal of his touch.

“You’re not weak. Don’t ever think that. I’ve seen people deal with the loss of a child many times. Everyone handles it differently. Including me.” He took a deep breath and shoved a hand through his hair. “All these years, my parents blamed themselves for Gracie running away. In the end, it was my fault.”

“Your fault? How could it possibly have been your fault? You were twelve at the time.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “The last time I saw her, I was playing ball with my friends. She and my dad had just gotten into a raging argument, so she didn’t want to go home. She wanted to hang out with us, but my friends knew she wasn’t good at sports. Nobody wanted her on their team.” He clenched his jaw so tightly white lines fanned the corners of his mouth. “I should have stood up for her. I didn’t. She stormed off, and that was the last I ever saw of her.”

“No, Evan. No.” She scooted closer until her thigh pressed against his. “You can’t blame yourself. She didn’t run away because of what happened. If she hadn’t run off that day, she would have done it the next day or the next. You know that.”

“I keep reliving that moment again and again, wondering if things would have been different if I’d only let her stay.” He threw back the contents of the glass, then set it on the table with a resounding whack. “I’m a goddamn coward.”

He had to be kidding. “The awful people you deal with every day…the danger you put yourself in is incomprehensible, hardly the actions of a coward.” Gently, she stroked his face, the stubbly shadow on his chin prickling her fingers. “You were just a boy then.” As the boy he’d been all those years ago, the man he was now was still wounded, hurting inside, and grieving like his sister had disappeared only yesterday.

She leaned in to his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. For a moment, he did nothing, said nothing. With a groaning sigh, he slid his hands to her back. Warm breath fanned her face.

“You are not to blame,” she whispered, stroking the back of his head. And maybe she wasn’t to blame as much as she’d been telling herself. She hadn’t deserted Aiden. All she’d done was turn her head once, for only a few seconds. That was all it had taken, but she wasn’t to blame. Not really. The animal who’d taken her son was, and perhaps it was time she stopped torturing herself quite so much.

“Marlie.”

Their faces were so close she could see silver shards glittering in his eyes. Then his lips grazed hers, softly at first, then with more pressure.

He pulled her onto his lap, cradling her head in the crook of his arm as he deepened the kiss. When their tongues touched, it was like fire and ice went to war. Heat seared her from the inside out, while icy shivers raced over every inch of her skin.

She sifted her fingers through his hair, trying to pull him closer, his lips more firmly against hers and his tongue deeper inside her mouth. God, he tasted so good, felt so good to her intimacy-deprived body. She was like a plant in the desert, one on the verge of shriveling and dying from lack of water, and she couldn’t drink fast enough. When he pulled back, she practically groaned out loud.

“Is Noah asleep?” he asked, dropping kisses on her face and nuzzling her cheek.

“Uh-huh,” she mumbled, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back to give him better access to the sensitive part of her neck. “Blue’s with him.”

“Good.” His hand skimmed the side of her ribcage. When his thumb touched the curve of her breast, she snapped open her eyes to find him watching her intently, questioningly, and he was asking a question.

Did she want to make love with him? Even if it turned out to be just sex, did she?

Yes.

He must have interpreted her hesitation as a “no,” because he dropped his hand. She locked her fingers around his wrist and pressed his hand fully on her breast. This time there would be no misinterpretation.

She wanted him, and he wanted her. There was no doubting that, either. Not judging by his hard length beneath her legs.

He took her mouth in a searing kiss, parting her lips and thrusting his tongue inside to dance with hers. In one swift motion, he picked her up, carrying her to his bedroom, which she had yet to see.

Against her cheek, his heart thudded hard and fast. There was no need to put a hand to her own chest to know her heart was racing like a thoroughbred down the homestretch.

He kicked the door shut behind them, flipping on the lights with his elbow. He set her on her feet. This time, the kiss was gentle, sweet, and slow.

With his thumb and forefinger, he tipped up her chin. “Are you sure about this?”