Chapter 36

The double tapon my front door has Julep barking.

"Come in," I yell out, my hands covered in sticky dough from today's urge to make homemade cinnamon rolls. Baking has become my clear space. I don't muddle it up with overanxious thoughts. It helps me feel close to my dad in some ways, and in others, it lets me just enjoy a task that's only meant for me.

"Hey, Laney." It isn't the Foxx I was expecting to show up at my front door—technically, his front door. I can barely hear him over some morning Ella Fitzgerald.

I jut my chin and lean down to reach the volume on my little speaker perched next to me. "Ace, what are you doing here?"

"I was going to say the same thing about you," he says, leaning against the counter. His hands are slung into his suit pants pockets and an easy smile rests on his face.

I stop stirring the brown sugar and cinnamon. "Shit. Have I outworn my welcome? I know you said you didn't want rent, but I've been putting aside a couple hundred dollars a week in case you ask for it."

He shakes his head no. "I don't need rent. I just meant that I didn't think you would be in here. I had just assumed you were spending time at Grant's place."

"Oh." What was I supposed to say to that? Yes, actually. I've been spending a great deal of time in your brother's bed. Not to mention, the timeliness of your curiosity is interestingly accurate based on the conversation I had with Grant this morning.

I peered out of the corner of my eye as I put mascara on my lashes. Grant surveyed the bathroom counter covered in most of my things. "I'll clean this all up once I'm done."

"Is that the only make-up you have?" He globbed toothpaste onto his toothbrush and started brushing as he watched me curl my eyelashes.

"Please don't be the guy who says, ‘you don't need it.'"

He just smiled over his toothbrush, and then spit, before bringing his attention back to me. "Laney, I value my life. I would never tell you what you do or don't need." He winks.

It was impossible not to smile, especially with that navy towel tucked at the hip and slung so low.

"Eyes up here, baby." Clearing his throat, he rubbed the back of his neck before looking at me in the mirror again. "I'm asking because maybe you should grab more. To have here."

That made me pause what I was doing.

With a tight-lipped smile, he looked nervous. Grant, for all the things I'm learning about him, seeming nervous in any situation isn't one I've experienced yet. "I'm trying to get more of you."

That threw me off. And not in a way where I didn't want to hear it. It was more like, I had never heard those words before. There had never been a time in my life when someone other than my dad wanted more of me. It had always gone the other way. And some of that surprise, and albeit slight panic, must have been showing on my face.

He wiped whatever toothpaste was left behind and shifted closer, leaning down and kissing my shoulder. "Let me have more of you."

The truth was, I wanted it too. Maybe all of it was soon. Maybe it would turn into the worst decision of my life—getting closer to a man who had gone from calling me a liar to claiming me as his.

"There's room for you here. In the top drawer, space in my closet, and the table on your side of the bed is practically vacant anyway." Dragging his teeth along my shoulder, he said, "Think about it," and then strode out of the bathroom, giving my ass a little smack.

It's all I'd been thinking about. Hence the bag of skittles I already powered through after I had made a big batch of granola.

"Prue asked about having a wedding at the distillery. One of her granddaughters is looking for a small venue and she was wondering if that was something we could do. I told her that I would need to talk to my events person before I committed to anything."

I finish sprinkling the brown sugar bourbon mixture onto the rolled-out dough and move toward the little refrigerator for some butter. I really like that he came to talk to me before committing to it. The gesture makes me realize how much I respect Ace and the way he does business. The way he treats people. Especially the people who work for him. "I think if it's in the dead of winter or the heart of summer and they want it outside, it'll be tricky with the weather. But maybe if it's in the fall, that'll allow us to only worry about a tented space and not about temperature control."

"And what if we had a dedicated space for events like that?"

That has me stopping the cinnamon bun multitasking once again. "I would say the distillery is too busy during typical tour hours for a private event. But if you had a special place for things like that, then it would be something we could offer regularly."

"Is that something you would consider sticking around for? Long term?"

I'm flattered at what he's proposing. "Why?" I clear my throat. "I just mean, if hosting a wedding here for a family friend is something we can pull off, sure. But if you're talking about creating a space here that feels like a destination for weddings, well, I think it would be amazing."

He nods, not offering anything else. Just a clipped nod, like that was that.

"Alright. I'll make sure Prue chats with you directly, then. Work up some numbers for costs associated and we can see if it'll fit into her granddaughter's budget."

"Um, sure." I wipe my hands off quickly. Just before he reaches the door, I call after him. "Ace?" He must hear the question in my tone.

"It seems like you're staying. So, I want you to have something here. This is yours if you want it." He gives me a tight-lipped smile. "You deserve good things, Laney. I don't know the details, but I've seen enough to know that whatever you ran from, it was ugly. And I'm telling you, from one hardened heart to another, that no matter what happened, you're allowed to find good things."

You can do hard things.

"And you've brought my brother back." His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. "I recognize him again. I know that's got a lot to do with you."

He leaves a few beats later, and my eyes well up with tears. I don't bat a single one of them away as they roll down my face. I stare at the door and let myself feel this. The sense of belonging and care that I've found here isn't something I plan on taking for granted. I glance around the small cottage and toward Julep cozied in the corner sleeping. I feel like I have a home.

The loud whinny of a horse snaps me out of my head. I look out the front window and can see the outline of Grant brushing Tawney, wearing that damn blue baseball hat backwards. He went into the cooperage this morning and then for a ride after lunch. It's a typical Sunday for him, I'm learning. There haven't been any days when he's not at the distillery in some way or another. He loves being there and I understand it.

A text message alert from my phone dings over the speaker and interrupts my music.

BEA

Laney, call me.

I've got colleagues asking me about Fiasco. Someone's been poking around.

My stomach bottoms out.

I look out at Grant. And I know right then, this is my fault. I waited too long to tell him. I turn off the timer for the cinnamon buns and pull them out of the oven, working through what this could mean. It's not good. I know that much.

Instead of calling Bea back, I walk outside and across the lawn, speaking before I've even approached him. "Have you been looking into my case? Asking questions?"

He turns from brushing Tawney, the smile quickly disappearing from his face. It's the way a realization takes over that stops me in my tracks.

"Dammit. What did you do?" I whisper. The repercussions of what this could mean—danger, relocating, leaving. My hands start shaking and my mouth runs dry.

He drops the brush and comes closer. "I messed up."

I take a step back.

"Before you told me everything..." He rubs at the back of his neck. "Baby, I knew you were tangled in something the second you mumbled Bea's name. When Ace confirmed that she was the one who brought you here, I eased up. But that night at Midnight Proof, when Waz said something about New York, it had me on edge. Guys like that are never up to anything good." He reaches for me, but I don't want him to hold me. I want him to talk, so I back away.

Dragging his hands through his hair, he releases a heavy sigh. "I had Del do some digging. He has a lot of friends in the FBI and U.S. Marshall service in offices up north."

Shit. My eyes widen, almost not believing this. Why didn't I just tell him sooner? He was a fucking cop, of course he could have handled it!

I spin around and start walking toward my cottage. I need space and I need to call Bea.

As I hear him following me, something has my steps coming to a halt. "How would Waz..."

"I don't know. But Del didn't find anything about you. There was nothing that stood out. So he left it alone. And I waited for you to tell me when you were ready."

Oh god. There's no reason for Fiasco to be on anyone's radar unless a retired cop was looking into a woman who randomly showed up. I close my eyes. A roster of worry revs up within me. If I had only told him sooner, he wouldn't have tried to dig into it.

I only realize I'm basically running when he calls out to me, "Honey, wait!"

"Don't call me that right now." I hold up my phone. "You asked too many questions, to too many people, and it might have put me in danger, Grant. It might have put YOU in danger. Ace, Griz, Lincoln, the girls," I shout, my whole body shaking from the inside out. "Just asking has put everyone in danger." A sob lets loose as he steps closer, trying to hold me. There's too much emotion coursing through me to think about anything logically.

He rests his hands on my shoulders and then bends his knees so I'll look him in the eye. "Baby, tell me what happened?"

"You stopped calling me a liar. I told you everything. But you know what?" I point between us, adding space as I keep stepping farther from him. "I've been the only one sharing things. You haven't told me a damn thing about you. About Fiona. How you and your family even know Bea Harper. I'm the one taking chances and trusting you. And what? For what?"

His expression reflects the stress and pain I'm feeling, and it pulls at my heart. I know he doesn't deserve all of this, but I have no one else to be angry at here. Julep comes barking up behind me, interrupting our stare-off. She knows something's wrong, but I'm too upset and spiraling to soothe her as I storm up toward my place.

"Fuck, Laney, stop!"

I stop on the top step of my porch and turn to look at him.

"Talk to me, honey. Please," he breathes out, his hands clasped together, resting on top of his head. "Tell me what's happened? Is that Bea?"

I nod, tilting my chin up and trying my hardest to stop it from quivering. "I need a minute." My eyes water as I look at him. "I don't know what any of it means, but I need to make a call."

I shut the door to my cottage and lean against it, sinking to the floor. Blowing out a slow breath, I swat away the tears that keep falling down my cheeks and call Bea.

She picks up before it even rings. "Laney, I've got two colleagues now who have asked me about a Colorado asset. And, if I've brought anyone from Manhattan into the program under the radar. This isn't good, kid. It's not just you I have to protect, you understand that?"

"I didn't know," I say, closing my eyes.

"Grant?"

"Yes. We got close and I should have told him sooner."

"It"s just as much my fault. I should have given him the heads-up. I'm going to make my way down to you in the next few days."

There are plenty of other questions I should be asking, but there's only one I want to know the answer to. "Am I going to have to leave?"

She stays quiet for too long. "I promised you that I'd keep you safe. And I promised Ace that this wouldn't come anywhere near him or his family. I plan to keep my promises, Laney."

And the only thing I'm thinking about is that I promised Grant I'd stay.