Maria let out a soft tsk. “Ricky, no.”
That’s when Grace realized that Maria had returned. And as Grace’s gaze fell on Maria’s bat, it was as if she was seeing it for the first time. Rick didn’t understand, couldn’t figure what it was about the wooden bat that changed her mind, but he watched as she straightened. She gulped, then shuddered. She ran her hand across her face, rubbing her eyes, plucking her lip.
She was working up the nerve for something. He got that. But it also glaringly evident that she was scared out of her head. And he had the sinking suspicion that he had everything to do with it now.
Shit.
The last thing he wanted was for Grace to ever know fear when he was around. It was bad enough that, despite how hard she tried to hide it, she could never truly shake it thanks to the ex whose possessiveness scarred her. To have her be afraid of him?
He couldn’t take it. She had to trust him. She had to believe in him. This fragile thing building between them would shatter and break if she didn’t.
He would shatter and break.
Rick was a big man, tall and strong. He worked hard at it. He trained hard. He built up every muscle he could. But his heart? It chipped when Caitlin Scott became Caitlin De Angelis, and cracked when she was murdered. He slapped a bandaid on it after the funeral and promised he’d never give it away again. Then, like a thief in the night, Grace snuck in and she stole it. He never even put up a fight. He just let her tak
e it.
Now that it was in her tiny, little hands, she had the power to smash it to smithereens.
The entire time Rick was active in the Marine Corps, he never quite understood why he was fighting. He joined because it was his way out of Hamlet, and he became the best damn Marine he could because he made a promise when he enlisted. But he never knew the reason why he fought.
He found it in a ballerina who liked to dance in the moonlight.
This? What they had? What they could have? This was worth fighting for.
Rick’s grip was gentle as he cupped her chin, tilting her head back so that he could look in her eyes. She tried to move and, when she couldn’t, she closed her eyelids.
That just about killed him.
“Don’t hide from me, Grace,” he pleaded. He’d fucking beg if he had to. “I can only help you if you let me.”
Her long, thick eyelashes fluttered. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes again.
Rick thought she was going to deny him. Tell him no. Grace opened her mouth, then closed it with an audible click. Something passed across her face, a sort of resignation that he couldn’t quite explain.
And then she nodded.
“You’re right, Rick. I’m sorry… so, so sorry. I know that this—us—it’ll never work if I can’t be honest with you.” She trailed her hand down his chest, drawing back when she reached his navel. “I’ll show you. Just… don’t hate me, okay?”
“I could never do that.”
She smiled sadly. “You say that now,” she told him before heading back toward the porch swing.
He didn’t want to let her go. There was something in her smile—and a surrender in her eyes—that he never wanted to see. Rick surged forward, deciding in an instant that he didn’t want to know. If Grace was worried about his reaction, he’d make it easy for her.
That’s when Maria stopped him. Throwing her hand out, she blocked him from following Grace. Because it was either mow her down or wait, Rick chose to fall back.
The gleam in Maria’s pale blue eyes—not to mention the handle of the Louisville Slugger she clutched with her other hand—told him that he made the right choice.
Grace kept going, unaware of the power play behind her. She paused when she reached the swing, grabbing something with a hand that jerked as if she was too disgusted to pick it up.
He couldn’t stay quiet. “Grace, you don’t have to—”
She looked over at him. Not the piece of paper in her hand. She looked at Rick and she nodded. “Yes. I do.”
Maria had dropped her arm by the time Grace returned to stand in front of Rick. Without a word, she offered him the paper. This close, he saw that it was a cream-colored stock, thicker than a regular sheet of paper, and it was crumpled.
He took it from her, frowning when she turned away from him as if she didn’t want to witness his reaction when he looked at it.