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Gracie stood looking out the cabin window, barely able to see through the layers of dirt coating the glass. But someone was moving out there. No, two people.
"Do you think it’s Gilbert?" Sam asked, peering through the window.
"No," she whispered, grabbing his arm as the figures moved closer to the cabin. "It's Allison and there's someone with her. But it's not Gilbert. I think it's a woman."
"This isn’t good," Sam muttered, looking around the cabin. "I don't want Allison to see you here. She made it clear at the reunion that she resents the hell out of you."
"Why? She barely knows me. I don’t think we said more than five words to each other back in high school.”
"Who knows? It seemed she was jealous of your relationship with Gilbert." Sam looked under the bed. "No room to hide there."
"They're getting closer," Gracie said, still watching them through the window. "It looks like they're arguing about something, but I can't hear a thing."
He walked over to a small door and opened it, revealing a miniature pantry with shelves lining all three sides. "Do you think we can squeeze in here?"
She frowned at the tiny space. "Are you serious?"
"Completely." He glanced out the window. "We don't have much time."
Footsteps sounded on the porch steps and Gracie knew she didn't have a choice. She dove for the pantry, wedging herself inside. Most of the shelves were empty, but the scent of cinnamon and cloves filled the small space, and she noticed a few spice jars scattered about.
Sam edged in beside her, his large frame just fitting between the shelves.
It was so cramped they were barely able to get the door closed. Gracie tried to keep air space between her body and Sam's, but it proved impossible. Her back was pressed hard against the wooden shelves, the edges cutting into her flesh. The front of her body pressed hard against Sam.
"Can you breathe?" she gasped, wondering how long they were going to have to hide in this small pitch-black space.
"Barely," he murmured, and then his body tensed. "They're almost here."
Gracie could hear their voices now as the front door of the cabin opened, then closed again. "Are you sure we shouldn't confront them?" she whispered. “Catch them by surprise?”
"Let's hear what they have to say first,” he whispered, his mouth right against her ear. “We may learn something valuable."
She fought for breath, more a result of this physical contact with Sam than lack of breathing space. She shifted slightly, finding a more comfortable position as the contours of their bodies fit more closely together.
Gracie swallowed hard, her heart racing in her chest. This little detour wasn't on the itinerary. But she couldn't do anything about it now—even if she wanted to.
"You've got some setup here, Allison," said an unfamiliar voice.
"Nice, isn't it?"
Even after all these years, Gracie recognized that faint Bronx accent in Allison's Texas drawl that had distinguished her from the rest of her classmates at Hay Springs High. The Webb family had moved to Hay Springs in the middle of Allison’s junior year, and she’d hated the town and the "resident rednecks" as she called them. A fact that she'd made plain to everyone she met.
Not exactly the way to win a popularity contest in high school, a place that had proved difficult for Gracie to fit in, too. The local students were big on football and tradition, resenting anyone who tried to make waves. And Allison had loved making waves. She'd boycotted pep rallies, mocked the cheerleaders, and wrote scathing editorials in the school newspaper about the lack of culture and refinement in Hay Springs.
Gilbert had seen her actions as courageous, but Gracie had just thought she was a snob. That opinion had been confirmed the day Allison had laughed in Gilbert's face when he'd asked her for a date.
Now Allison was in his cabin, something that didn't make any sense to Gracie. When and why had Gilbert let that woman back into his life?
A cell phone rang and she heard Allison say, "That's Gil. Come outside with me, Dorie. There's better reception."
Gracie heard them leave the cabin, then the sound of the door closing behind them as their voices faded away. "Who's Dorie?"
"A cousin, I think," Sam replied. "I researched Allison's family at the library. There's a cousin named Doreen Phillips who lives in Fort Worth. So, it could be her."
"There's no way to find out in here," Gracie said, achingly aware of how good his body felt pressed against her own. "Now Gilbert's calling her and we can't hear a thing."
Sam hesitated, then said, "We've got to stay in here and hope they come back inside. If we go out now, we'll scare them off."
She knew he was right and nodded, bumping the top of her head against his chin. "Sorry," she whispered. "It's a little crowded in here."
"I noticed."
Gracie tried not to move, but her arms were trapped between their bodies and starting to grow numb. She wiggled a little, attempting to free them and heard a low moan emanate from Sam's throat.
"Please don't do that," he rasped.
"I can't help it. My arms are stuck."
He shifted slightly, the movement pressing her back into the shelves. Then he gently grasped both her wrists and brought them up around his shoulders. The change in position did give her more room. It also made her acutely aware of the intimacy of holding on to Sam in the dark.
"Better?" he asked, his mouth so close she could feel his warm breath on her cheek.
Much better. "Yes, thank you."
"My pleasure."
She was so tired of fighting her attraction to him. At this moment she wanted Sam and he was right here in front of her.
What was she waiting for?
Gracie knew she shouldn't move, but every nerve fiber in her body vibrated with the need to arch against him. She settled for sliding her hands around his neck and threading her fingers through the thick hair on the back of his neck.
"Gracie," he said, his voice ragged. "This is... torture."
At least she wasn't the only one suffering. Neither of them could deny the tension that had been sizzling between them since that night in the hotel room. She'd been fighting it ever since, but that just seemed to give it—and him—more power over her. Maybe it was time she took control.
"You're a Holden, remember," she whispered against his ear. "Tough enough to handle anything."
Then Gracie recalled Aunt Jolene’s comment that she was too cautious and realized now that she had been right. Nothing like this had ever happened to Gracie before and she found herself reveling in the excitement, the danger, and the uncertainty. It heightened every feeling, including her attraction to Sam.
She'd been numb for so long, focusing on her career and running her company. Sam made her come alive again. A prospect both terrifying and thrilling at the same time. But that was better than the inertia that had plagued her recently.
Gracie brushed her cheek over his unshaven jaw until he turned his head and caught her lips with his own. He moaned into her mouth, and she held on as he kissed her with an intensity that touched her soul.
Gracie had never done anything like this before—never even imagined it. Now she couldn't imagine stopping. The fact that Allison and her companion could return to the cabin at any moment only added to the heated urgency of the moment.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered into the darkness, bringing his mouth down to nibble on her neck. Soft, tender kisses that heightened the intimacy between them.
Gracie was still trying to catch her breath when she heard voices inside the cabin once more. She had no idea how long the women had been there or when they'd come back in, gratefully aware that the solid wood door must have concealed any sound she and Sam might have made.
Sam held her in his arms as they eavesdropped on the conversation.
"So, it's all set?" Dorie said.
"Only one more week," Allison replied. "Then I can kiss this Podunk place goodbye once and for all."
"Don't forget to hand over my share before you and Gilbert ride off into the sunset,” Dorie said, sounding petulant.
"That's up to Gilbert. He's still not too happy with the way you botched up things before, Dorie."
"That wasn't my fault!"
"You're the one who hired that moron," Allison countered. "He was just supposed to cause a distraction so Gilbert could disappear, not barge in with guns blazing."
"Gilbert got away, didn't he?" Dorie said, her tone defensive now.
"After that deputy got shot. We still don't know if he's alive or dead."
Gracie didn't realize she was squeezing Sam's arms until his fingers gently loosened her grip. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Allison made it sound as if Gilbert was in on the entire plan. This had to be a ruse. Maybe Allison did know they were hiding in the closet.
"The deputy's alive," Dorie replied. "I checked. He's in a wheelchair, but alive. So it's not like we'd be facing murder charges. And it's not like Gilbert hasn't screwed up, either. He's the one who sent that tape to the Delacroix woman."
"He'll get the tape back," Allison assured her. "Don't worry about that. You just need to take care of everything on your end."
"That won’t be a problem."
"Good. Then this thing should be wrapped up by the end of the week. If everything goes as planned, you'll get your share of the money."
Gracie heard the sound of footsteps and knew they were heading for the door. She resisted the urge to bolt after them and force Allison to admit she was lying about Gilbert's involvement.
The woman was setting him up; Gracie was sure of it. No doubt Gilbert was just as enamored with Allison as he'd been in high school, too blinded by his own obsession of her to see that she was trouble. Gracie knew she had to find a way to warn him before it was too late.
They waited several minutes before they finally emerged from the pantry. So much had happened since they'd taken refuge there that Gracie didn't know what to say.
Sam walked over to the window. "They're gone."
She straightened her hair, noticing that Sam's shirt was half pulled out of his jeans. Had she done that?
Her face warmed as she remembered their kiss. Something about that small, dark space had almost made her lose all control. Now she had to think rationally again, to put aside her feelings for Sam long enough to figure out what to do next.
He still stood at the window, his arms braced on the frame. "What do we do now, Gracie?"
She wasn't sure if he was talking about their relationship or the case. So, she answered his question with one of her own. "What do you want to do?"
He turned around, his gaze intent on her face. "I want to take you back home and kiss you again. Hell, I want to do it right here."
She swallowed hard, but before she could reply, he continued. "But we don't know if or when Allison is coming back.” Sam stepped toward her. “The only thing we do know is that Gilbert is in this thing up to his neck."
Her warmth toward him chilled at the hard expression she saw on his face. "Don't tell me you believed her?"
"Didn't you?"
She shook her head. "Of course not. Gilbert was obviously a dupe in this scheme."
"It doesn't look that way now."
"But you got to know him well enough to recognize his favorite candy," Gracie replied, certain she could make him see reason. "You must know he's not the kind of man to get mixed up in something like this."
"In my job, I meet all kinds of people who do all kinds of things for the craziest reasons. Hell, look at us. I never imagined doing anything like what just happened in that closet." Sam moved toward her. "And I'm sure you feel the same."
His words seemed to hold a double meaning.
She stared up at him, wondering if he was using her attraction to him to bolster his case against Gilbert. Just having that thought made Gracie realize she didn’t fully trust Sam. Maybe it was her cautious nature taking hold again, but she wasn't going to gamble with Gilbert's life or her own happiness to fulfill her romantic fantasies, no matter how tempting the prospect.
"We have a problem," she said, steering the subject back to safe territory. "You think Gilbert's guilty, and I know he's innocent."
Disappointment flared in his eyes. "That's really all you have to say. About this?" His gaze flicked to the closet, then back again. "About us."
"Yes." She turned toward the cabin door, not trusting herself enough to look at him, certain she'd falter under the vulnerability she saw in his dark eyes.
"Gracie, wait..." Sam moved beside her. "You're not going out there alone. In fact, after hearing what Allison had to say, you're not going anywhere alone."
"Does this mean you're going to help me prove Gilbert innocent?"
"No," he bit out, closing the cabin door behind him. "I'm going to prove once and for all that you've given your trust to the wrong man."