Page 16 of When He Defends

He slowly rose to his feet. Gray’s breath eased out. “You did the right thing tonight.”

“You have my card, Misty,” Emerson said. “You contact me anytime.”

“I’m…I’m gonna go home to my mom in Georgia. I already called her. The cops, um, they said I have to fill out some paperwork. Then Timothy and I can go.” Her feet shuffled nervously. “Could you, um, would you—one of you—um, go with us? To the station, I mean? I’m just—I’m scared.”

“Yes,” Gray answered. He’d go. He’d take steps to make sure she had every resource she needed in Georgia, too.

“Yes,” Emerson replied at the same time.

His gaze collided with Emerson’s.

“We’ll be with you,” Emerson promised Misty. “Every step of the way.”

He could not look away from Emerson. And he should. He absolutely should. Because Gray was very afraid at that moment…

Emerson is seeing too much of me.Seeing into him. And discovering the secrets that he tried too hard to hide.

The sun was startingto rise when they got back to the motel room. Weariness pulled at Emerson. All she wanted to do was fall into a puddle. A puddle that—hopefully—landed in her bed.

Gray had made arrangements for Misty and her son Timothy to be transported to Misty’s mother’s home. He’d also made a few, secretive phone calls. Calls that her instincts said were all geared around Misty and her protection.

As soon as he parked their rental at the motel, a weary sigh slid from her. “You’re really a good guy, aren’t you, Gray?” Gray. The shortened version of his name slid easily from her now.

Because I almost had sex with the man.

Something that they would have to discuss soon.

Gray exited the vehicle. She started to push open her door, but he beat her. Opening it for her. With his face expressionless, he told her, “I’m good to some people.”

Yes, he’d certainly been good to Misty and to Timothy that night. She rose from the vehicle. Her heels tapped on the cement as she edged closer to him.

He slammed the car door. “But to most people, I’m a real nightmare.”

Chapter Four

“Did I grow up intending to be an FBI agent? Uh, no. No, the plan was much different. What was it? Trust me on this. You don’t want to know.”

– Gray Stone

She staredup at his face. The strong angles. The stubble that covered his square jaw. Shadows lined his eyes, and the golden brown of his irises seemed to shift and swirl as he gazed down at her. She thought of how gentle he’d been with Misty. How he had knelt to be on a closer level with Timothy as he signed to the boy. Emerson slowly shook her head. “I don’t believe you’re a nightmare.” Quite the opposite.

“That’s just because you don’t know me that well.” He turned away. “I’m sure you’re ready to crash.”

Beyond ready. But she had things she wanted to say to Gray. Questions she needed to ask.

“We’ll have to pay a visit to Jake Waller later. Tie up loose ends. Then we’ll be getting the hell out of Briar.” He glanced down at his wrist, at the gleaming watch there. “But we can spareat least five hours of rest. I’ll talk to the clerk at the motel’s front desk and arrange a late checkout for us.”

She touched his wrist. Right near that gleaming watch.

He tensed. “You don’t want to do that.”

“I think we need to talk, Gray.”

His head turned toward her. “Not right now, we don’t.” A low warning filled his words. “You need to rest. I need to rest. We’ll regroup. Talk later.” He swallowed. “You don’t want to be touching me right now. Trust me on this.”

“Why would you think that you’re a nightmare?”

He pulled away. Backed away. “Don’t try to profile me, Emerson. It’s a bad idea.”