Hell Is Burning (59 page)

“It’s weird.”

“Please?” he asked. “I don’t often ask for favors, Chris. Emma needs to do this, and right now she’s having a really shitty day. If you won’t do it for her, will you do it for me? I’ll owe you one.”

“Yeah, you’re going to be paying for my plastic surgeon if my damn nose is broke. I liked my nose! It got me play with the ladies.”

Croft laughed. “How about you tell me why you really don’t want the place? I know it’s not the dirty thing. This reeks like a woman issue if I ever smelled one before.” He should know. Greyson was the king of babe issues before Emma.

Ford stood. “I hate you.”

He didn't even flinch. Instead, Croft drank his beer and watched the man.

“I won’t fit in there. I drive a beat up truck, I drink beer, and I’m a roughneck. I won’t class the place up.”

He got it now. “Your ex-wife put you through the ringer, huh? Let me guess. She commented on your inability to be refined and not some backwoods hick, and now you think this is what you deserve.” Croft waved his hand to indicate he was talking about Ford’s dump.

“I was right. I do hate you, and to answer your question, yes, that’s pretty much how it went down. She was from a rich family, and that’s why this whole thing rubs me the wrong way. I want to accept it, but a part of me feels like I don’t deserve it. Before my ex divorced me, we had a nice place, I drove a nice car, and it was all for her. That’s not me.”

Croft laughed. “You’ll fit in, because you’re a damn good cop. Think of it as an undercover assignment. You’re not a lost cause, Chris. You’re damn good at your job, and you gave up being the commissioner to be with your detectives in the trenches. If anything, you’re better than what I can give you.”

He thought about it.

“It’ll work,” Greyson said. “Plus, you did nearly get Emma killed. It’s the least you can do.”

Chris stared openmouthed. “
SERIOUSLY
? Are you going to remind me of this every time I see you?”

“Not likely. It makes me want to have a stroke. I have to get over it, and that’s why I punched you. That was so much more satisfying.”

“I’m sorry. I hate that she got hurt. I really care about Emma.”

He was well aware. If Chris didn't, he wouldn’t be torturing himself right now.

Croft chugged his beer.

“I have to get home. Come over tomorrow for breakfast, okay? We have a wedding, and then it’s back to work. I’m going to try and get Emma to take down time, but it’ll be a battle.”

“I can make her.”

He laughed. “Chris, don’t risk your life. A pissed off wife, is a jacked up life, and I don’t want to be her target when you leave. She’s going to automatically think I told you to bench her, and that will get me punched.”

Chris walked him to the door. “Greyson?”

“What?”

“Thank you for coming over and squaring this away.”

“That’s what friends are for, Chris, but lock up, because this place is a crime scene waiting to happen.”

At the door, he watched the man cross the quad to his pricy car. He found it funny as hell.

Chris had fallen into a family of people he could respect. Yes, they there were considered the most crooked people in town, but it didn't matter.

His life was changing because of them, and that was a damn good thing.

Chapter Eighteen

Sunday Morning

When Emma woke, she could feel him by her side. His body was curled protectively around hers as his breath tickled her neck.

Emma took that moment to simply enjoy his arms around her. It had been a long time since she truly felt safe, and the tides appeared to be turning. They weren’t being hunted by some psycho anymore. Now the only maniac on the board was Dominic Marianna, and even he was keeping his distance.

It was a good feeling.

They’d weathered the storm.

When she rolled over, she noticed her husband was still asleep. He’d moved with her, but his eyes remained closed. He looked worn down, and she supposed that if she’d been on the other side of that rooftop door last night, she, too, would feel that way. After all, watching someone you love fall from a roof with a rope around their neck had to be terrifying.

Instead of waking him, Emma spent a couple minutes watching the man she loved. In sleep, he still looked like he was stressed. She longed to kiss away the lines around his eyes, and get rid of some of the gray that was peppering his hair.

Vegas was aging him.

She could see it now, and it bothered her.

While she knew they should both step away from their jobs, Emma was smart enough to know he’d never do that. This was Greyson Croft. Underneath the battle weary façade, there was a fighter, and here he was.

She couldn’t change him. This man was meant to fight for justice.

He was a crusader, and she was proud.

When she glanced down at his bandaged arm, her heart skipped. Trudy Booker had come close. She’d hit the left side, and there was no doubt she would have killed him had she been more accurate.

That scared her.

Emma couldn’t imagine life without him. There, in that grand space, she wanted to have him with her forever. She needed to love him, care for him, and ease away all his pain.

It was time to start.

Moving closer, Emma brought her mouth to his wounded arm and left feather light kisses there. As soon as her lips touched his flesh, Greyson’s body came alive. Even though he was still asleep, he reacted to her, and that pleased Emma. Here was her soul mate.

Gently tugging the bedding down, she found him naked. Her heart began pounding at the long, delicious lines of his body. Instead of touching him with eager fingertips, it was her mouth that longed to have a taste.

Hungrily, she moved down his torso, kissing and teasing his flesh. When he stirred, her hand found his already rock hard erection. With a few strokes, he was pulled from his slumber.

“Emma,” he whispered, his silvery eyes popping open.

“Let me love you, Greyson,” she replied, going back to her morning wake up call. With tongue and teeth, she stroked, teased, and pleasured the only man she’d ever love.

His body bowed in ecstasy as his wife brought him closer and closer to the edge. He watched her head bobbing up and down his erection, and Greyson never wanted it to stop. If he was dead, and this was heaven, he would be a very happy man.

With one hand, he found the back of her head. He slowed her down, silently showing her the pace he craved. Greyson wanted gentle love making.

When he was shaking beneath her mouth, Emma set him free to climb back up his body. When she straddled his hips, she stared down into his face.

“Good morning.”

He grinned. “Yes, I do believe it is. My only problem is that you’re overdressed.”

Emma pulled the cotton nightgown from her body. 

Greyson refused to focus on the bruises crisscrossing her body. Instead, his eyes never left hers. Reaching up, he tucked a wild piece of hair behind her ear. It was done with such tenderness, that Emma couldn’t breathe. What began as her making love to him was changing. As her eyes filled with tears, she didn't have to say the words.

Greyson saw it coming.

Here was the emotional crash. His wife held on all night, and now she was seeking refuge in him. She was rattled, and he needed to show her it was okay.

That they were more than fine.

Rolling, he placed her beneath him. As he stared down into her eyes, so much was passed between them.

“Thank you for fighting for your life,” he said. “Thank you for not leaving me, Emma.”

The tears spilled over. “Make me forget, Greyson. I need to forget. That was the worst thing I’ve ever had to live through. I thought I was going to slip away. I thought I was gone.”

“You didn’t, honey. I won’t let you leave my side. I can’t survive without you. I’d battle through hell to get to you.”

She knew he would.

Again, he was her champion.

“Heal me.”

Greyson knew it was time. He would give her just that, and pray it would be enough.

That he would be enough.

With his mouth, he offered a distraction, all the while his hands stroked, touched, and offered the healing power of love.

Emma moaned.

He kissed her more, sealing her life to his. They were meant to be one, and he believed that with all his heart. Here was the woman that fate wanted with him, and it was a damn good match.

Her smaller body shook beneath his, and with unsteady hands, she held onto him.

When his mouth broke free of the kiss, he stared down into her eyes. “I love you.”

Her reply was to bury her face in his good shoulder, allowing the tears to come as they made love.

Greyson knew she needed more, so he gave it to her. Gently, he filled her. Sliding home, he wanted to push the fear and terror from her, only giving her peace.

Love.

Adoration.

Then he began moving.

Emma’s long, pale legs were wrapped around his hips, inviting him deeper. With each slide in, he whispered his love into her ear.

She returned the sentiment by never letting go.

Here was strength.

Power.

Determination.

They weren’t giving each other up, and that was going to be what gave them the victory in the end.

They were unbreakable.

As he pushed her closer and closer to release, trying to get her to fall, she wouldn’t.

Not without him.

So, he didn't hold back.

Their mating was warm, heated, and full of love, and when he was poised on the edge, Greyson took them over and into the pleasure.

Wrapped around each other, they tumbled.

They were holding fast even as they broke apart. This was peace, and this was heaven. In her arms, and she in his, they could be safe.

When the colors stopped swirling, and they could catch their breaths, both Greyson and Emma stared into each other’s eyes.

Words weren’t needed.

Love patched them back up, gluing all the jagged edges back together again.

And it always would.

“I needed that,” she whispered, sniffling from her little cry fest.

“I’ll be more than happy to do that every day for the rest of our lives,” he offered. “I’ll take one for the team. I’m giving like that.”

Emma laughed. “You’re a saint.”

Greyson rolled off her body, pulling his wife with him so she could rest her head on his chest.

Emma was ready to speak. “The necklace saved me, Grey.”

He was aware.

“It was destroyed, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Can we get it repaired?”

He smiled. “We can.”

“It’s now my favorite piece of jewelry.”

Now he laughed. “Mine too.”

“She was going to have you marry her daughter so she could have all our money.”

His gut tightened. “It never would have happened. Even in all my grief, I never, ever would marry again. I told you, Emma, that if you go, I’m right behind. I won’t stay here without you. I can’t.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I’d want you to go on.”

He glanced over at her. “No. You’re it, Emma. This is the perfect life, and I’d never share it with anyone but you. It took me forty plus years to find you. It’s us or nothing.”

“I love you.”

He kissed her on the crown of her head.

“Where did you go last night?” she asked, running her finger through his chest hair. It was something she loved doing, and he enjoyed feeling.

“I had to have a little talk with Chris Ford.”

Emma didn't say anything at first. “Did you kill him? It’s too late to pin it on Trudy if you did.”

Croft laughed. “No. I punched him in the face, and then had a beer with him.”

“Feel better?”

“Yeah, I do. I invited him over for breakfast. Are you going to be okay with him here this morning?”

“I’m not mad at him. I just wish he’d stop being so stubborn and take the condo.”

Greyson smiled. “Well, you can discuss it with him this morning. I do happen to know why he won’t take it.”

She looked up. “Why?”

Greyson told her everything--from his ex-wife, and to his fears. Normally, what happened in Bro-ville stayed there, but not when it came to Emma’s heart. Hers was the most important allegiance.

“I didn't think of that,” she stated. “Now I’m sorry I pushed.”

“Well, you’ll work it out. I’m sure. What do you say we get dressed, have something to eat, witness a marriage, and then give them their gift?”

“Tessa was worried we weren’t going to make it.”

Greyson laughed. “It’s going to be hard for us not to make it. I fixed it so we will be the first ones there.”

She stared at him. “What did you do?”

He pulled her from bed and toward the balcony that overlooked their garden. There, nestled among the roses, was an arch decorated in white with chairs surrounding it. “I know they said elope, but we’re going to switch it up. We’re all here, so why not have a wedding?”

Emma grinned. “That’s a good idea. You’re sneaky, Mr. Croft.”

“Yeah, I know,” he stated, kissing his wife. “Shall we break the news?”

Emma was good with that.

After telling Tessa about their plans, she wept. The only other time they’d seen her cry was when Paris was hurt. At first, they didn't know if they were happy tears or sad ones. When she stopped, she hugged them both.

She loved her gift.

Oh, if she only knew this was the beginning.

Greyson called Mace and Chris Ford, telling them what was going on. They were to dress appropriately, and be ready for a fast ceremony. When they all got there, they were going to witness Paris and Tessa getting hitched.

Heading down to eat, Emma was actually glad there was a chef. Because of the wedding, he was working on the weekend, and that meant she didn't have to worry about it.

That was a beautiful thing.

She was too sore to cook for anyone, including herself. As they sat down to have coffee and wait for breakfast to be ready, Greyson and Emma’s family began coming downstairs.

First was Steele. When he saw Emma, he went to give her a kiss on the cheek. Instead, she brought his lips to hers. “My hero.”

He laughed, snagging coffee before sitting near her.

Dante didn't miss it, and of course he had a comment to make. “No poaching my man.”

Greyson laughed. “I’ll kill them both.”

Emma winked at her cave-Croft.

“Although, I did get to kiss your husband, and I’m torn which I like better,” Steele teased.

Emma opened her mouth and then closed it. “I don’t want to know. I’m sure there is a logical explanation why my husband was kissing a man, I just don’t want to hear it.”

Greyson laughed.

When Curtis arrived, he didn't look as miserable as he’d been. Time was easing his pain. “What’s for breakfast, Mom?” he asked.

She pointed toward the kitchen. “The chef is handling it. You can go harass him.”

Curtis dropped a kiss to the top of her head. It was something he’d done a million times.

“You look better today,” Greyson stated.

“I feel better. We found the person who killed Brynn. I can put it to bed, and move on. I’m ready for the next part of my life. I’ve begun calling it the
‘Mom and Dad are rich and we have a chef’
phase.”

Here was the old Curtis, and he was fighting to get back.

“Yes, you are, and he’ll make you anything you ask for,” Greyson offered.

“Hot damn!”

“I heard from Mace this morning,” Greyson stated. “He called me instead of you, Emma, since he wasn’t sure you’d be up for work.”

“I am,” she sated.

“Apparently, Paris couldn’t sleep last night. He was rolling back and forth all night.”