Page 18 of Graciously His

Chapter 10

Grace

Everything blurs again, static muting the world. I don’t resurface until Nate and I are on a noisy tarmac. I sleep through the short flight, curled up beside him, the arm rest between us raised. His fingers never release their hold. There’s a strange generosity to Nate’s touch, and without the terrible yearning I associate with Nick. It’s unsettling, feeling close to him right now. Nick’s death is an oncoming toothache, the rot slowly going deeper, approaching nerve endings that’ll be alive with agony soon enough.

A flight attendant serves snacks partway through the trip, but I ignore the food. Nate doesn’t push me to eat. The flight ends, and the next time I’m properly cogent is when he’s lowering me into another car. I catalogue things vaguely. Leather seats. A grapefruit and jasmine air freshener. The man beside me leaning over the console, the harsh line between his brows deepening.

“Are you with me, Grace?”

“How long?” I ask, my body demanding to shut down again.

“The drive is a little over two hours. Sleep now.” His hand goes to my thigh. “I’ve got you.”

I put my hand over his, intending to remove it. He shouldn’t be touching me like this. But I end up interlocking our fingers, and the last thing I hear is a throaty murmur, something like approval as our linked hands lock against my belly.

The sound of the highway reaches me in between sips of sleep. Nate’s hand drifts away, though I feel it return occasionally to shift my hair off my neck, or trace along the inner seam of my jeans. My sleep deepens and I dream, my brain replaying the worst moments of the day: Mother’s face when I opened the door; Constable Tim’s expression when I told him she would kill me; Nate arriving, looking like my dead husband from a distance, but nothing like him at all…

When I finally get past the static of dreams, I hear the soothing sound of waves approaching a shore. The waves enfold me in deeper rest than should be possible. I float, suspended yet comfortable, restoring some of what I lost, though loss still aches somewhere deep—in my diaphragm, or my pericardial cavity, or my parietal pleura. It’ll ache from within for a long time, maybe forever.

A voice drifts across the waves, low and intimate, and much too close. “Ready to surface, love?”

“Mmm,” I answer, trying to turn over, only to realise I’m not in bed. There’s firm leather beneath my cheek rather than a pillow. My eyes flutter open.

We’re in Nate’s parked car, and I can barely make out the shape of him beside me. The wave sounds are issuing from the radio, drawing me out of sleep.

“How long was I out?”

“Most of the ride home.” A squeeze to my thigh. “I let you continue sleeping for a good two hours after we got here.”

Four hours total, which makes sense, given that night has closed in. Stars are visible through the sunroof above, the Milky Way muted by the tinted window. The clock on the dashboard confirms what the stars say. It’s late.

“We’re here?” I sit up properly to look around. Everything is dark outside, though I see windows outlined in light close by.

A new noise arrives from Nate’s side, something like a whine.

“Hang on.” My full awareness returns. “Wait, is that Shep just outside?”

“Yes, and he’s not meant to whine like that—ever.” Nate peers through his window, disapproval in his rigid shoulders. “Back to your place, Shep. Place.”

Instead, scrabbling footsteps go around the car, then the huge dog appears outside my window. I recognise him from the few pictures Nate has sent over the years: a huge black dog with smart, sweet eyes. As I watch, he does a series of capering turns, clearly begging to be let in. Smiling, I fling my door open and the dog bounds forward and nuzzles right into my lap, his whines filling the small space.

“Oh, you absolute love,” I murmur, wrapping my arms around him. Shep gives a pitiful sigh and burrows further into my lap, his whole backside sticking out of the car, wagging tail thumping against the open door. He smells like sun on fur. He’s heavy in the best way.

“Absolute lug,” Nate mutters.

“I’m Grace,” I tell the big dog, and he gives me a grin as if in answer. “And you are much sweeter than you have any right to be, aren’t you?” I ruffle his ears and he leans up to give me a sloppy kiss.

I laugh despite the slobber, but Shep pulls away at a command from Nate.

Light erupts outside the car, blocking out the stars, but now I can see that we’re on a large concrete driveway in front of a house that’s dark behind the floodlights. A natural stone walkway leads to the front door, with a line of dwarf trees on either side. Nate blocks my view a second later, backlit as he extends a hand to help me from the car. I hesitate, realising that we’ve travelled a long way while I’ve been out of it, and that I have only the vaguest notion of where we are. He reaches into the car and takes my elbow.

“Time to come inside, Grace,” he murmurs.

Before I can say anything or find my feet, he scoops me up, kicks the car door shut, then carries me bridal-style towards the house.

“Where’s Shep?” I ask, craning my neck to see more of our surroundings.

“Making the rounds.” He looks down at me. “He’s a working dog, Grace. He’s got a job to do.”