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And . . . I wasn’t sure what else to say. The guy in the store could’ve been looking for anyone. This could all be a coincidence.
I’ll help him out until you two come home, I added. Don’t feel you need to rush. Everything’s okay here. Gravor can’t wait to see Kuunik again, though.
I stuffed my phone back inside my pocket and flopped against the seat, pinching my eyes closed.
Tension spiraled inside me to the point I felt like I was going to throw up.
It was easier to say the man in the general store hadn’t been looking for Gravor than to believe it. Coincidences happened, but this one felt too close to Gravor’s tenuous situation than I liked.
I wasn’t one to ignore my instincts. They screamed beware.
I started the car and took the long way home, peering in my rearview mirror more than I did through the windshield. But not a single car followed me. When I’d parked halfway down a dirt road, watching the main throughway for at least ten minutes without a vehicle passing, I pulled back out and continued home, parking three places down at a vacant house where the owner had recently died.
I waited again before getting out, locking my vehicle, and with the bag of things in my hand, I scooted around the back of the house and jogged through the other backyards. The owners all worked, and they wouldn’t even realize I’d been here.
When I reached my back door and unlocked it, I wasn’t sure what to expect inside. The guy from the store holding a gun against Gravor’s head?
I told myself the man was looking for someone else. Of course he didn’t mean Gravor.
But the scars, the hair and eye color—and the extraordinarily tall height he’d mentioned—kept my pulse racing in high gear.
When I walked inside my house, Gravor was pulling the quiche from the oven. Under normal circumstances, I’d gape at his gorgeous ass again. Instead, I slumped against the locked door and caught my breath. Should I call Mom and tell her to keep Asher longer?
Gravor shot me a smile. “Just in time. We’ll give it a few minutes to cool then dig in.”
“Awesome. It smells amazing.”
I wasn’t sure that I could eat. First, I had to tell him about the guy at the general store. Keeping information like this from him could make the world of difference. If someone was after him, though I wasn’t convinced they were, he needed to know.
It was still hard for me to believe I’d invited my one-night stand into my home again. But he had a good excuse for not calling me, one even a court of law wouldn’t find fault with.
Although, they might find fault with what he said he’d done after he escaped.
I still wasn’t sure what to do about that, but there was no way I was calling the sheriff. What if the guy from the store decided to contact the police? They’d connect the dots quickly, and I’d lead that man right to Gravor.
In the brief time I’d known him five years ago, I knew I liked him a lot. That was the only time I brought a man I’d just met home and dragged him off to my bed. That’s why it hurt so much when I woke to find him gone and no note. Then no phone call, though I’d given him my number.
I might be a fool, but I suspected my heart had taken me right back to the moment he walked out the door all those years ago.
It was merrily on its way to falling in love.
Chapter 8
Gravor
Mazie appeared tense. She kept peering out the back window and shifting the bag she’d placed on the counter.
“What’s up?” I asked as I got out plates, put them on the island, located a knife, forks, and a spatula, and brought them to the counter as well.
We sat, and she stared toward the back door, gnawing on her lower lip. She’d placed her bag of purchases on the opposite end of the island. “What would you think about going blond?”
“Why blond?” I tugged on my dark hair that was in dire need of a cut. This wasn’t something my captors cared one way or another about. If my facial scruff didn’t disappear each time I shifted, and I hadn’t taken scissors to my hair once I’d escaped, I’d look like a mountain man. Although, in this rural area, I’d probably fit right in.
My dragon constitution took care of my teeth and general health, which was a good thing for me, since the guys who’d captured me took great pleasure in testing how quickly I healed. The scars on my skin went deep. Some traveled all the way to my bones.
“Blond may be safer?” she asked.
“I’ve heard that blondes have more fun, but last I knew, safety wasn’t enhanced by hair color.”
