Stinger, стр. 47

She kept looking at me for a few seconds and finally, she smiled too. "Yes."

"How did you end up in Ve–" I was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. "Damn. Hold on."

I picked up the receiver. "Leland, it's taken care of."

"Uh, okay, man. She leave?"

"Yeah. Nothing much to update. We'll talk later."

"Oka–" I hung up. I returned to the seat across from Grace. I was holding myself back from scooping her up and hugging her. Feelings I couldn't identify were rushing through my system. I knew there were things I should be addressing here–first and foremost the fact that she was the prosecutor on my friend's case, a case that had more to do with me than she could know. We needed to discuss that. Or maybe we shouldn't discuss that. I didn't know.

Her hands moved in her lap and that ring caught my eye again. "You're engaged?" I asked quietly.

She looked down at her ring, a confused expression on her face, almost as if she didn't know what I was talking about for a second. She looked back up at me. "Yes."

I nodded. "When's the wedding?"

"The wedding?"

I tilted my head down. "I assume an engagement means there'll be a wedding at some point?"

She laughed a small laugh. "Oh, well, we haven't set a date yet." Then her face went serious. "What about you Carson? Anyone special in your life?" Her body stilled completely and her eyes widened slightly. My answer mattered to her. Something soared deep underneath all the confusing emotions swirling through my body. I didn't know what to focus on–how to untangle the feelings coursing through me. And so I pushed them all aside. I'd deal with those questions later.

I shook my head. "No." We stared at each other for a few beats before she broke eye contact and started to stand. "I should go," she said suddenly, the notepad on her lap falling to the floor. I stood up as she did and then bent to scoop up the paper. When I came up, I was closer to her, and we stood staring at each other again for several seconds. A strange feeling of deja vu hit me and I frowned for a second. "Grace–" I started.

She started backing away. "I have to go," she whispered. She turned and began walking to the door.

"Grace, wait, have dinner with me," I blurted out.

She halted in her tracks.

"Just to catch up," I said softly.

She turned around to face me. "Catch up?" she asked, her eyes filled with something that looked like fear.

I didn't answer her, just kept staring back into those large blue eyes. Finally, as if I'd said something that she heard, she nodded her head jerkily. "Okay," she said.

I breathed out. "I can pick you up. If you'll write down your address. I mean, do you live with your fiance?" I asked, discomfort filling my chest.

She shook her head. "No, I live alone."

I nodded, reaching behind me to grab something for her to write on.

I handed her a pad of paper and she brought the pen she had been using back out of her bag. As she started to write, her hand paused. I held my breath and then let it out as her hand began moving again. She handed the pad back to me and returned the pen to her bag, biting her lip.

"Carson, I–"

"Seven o'clock?" I asked.

She hesitated, but then nodded. "Okay, seven."

"Okay."

We stood there awkwardly for a second before she turned and opened the door, glancing at me one more time before walking out. I sagged down against my desk. Grace. Holy shit. Prosecutor Grace, engaged Grace. Grace. I didn't know whether to laugh or throw something. I did neither. After a few minutes, I opened my office door and went back to work.

CHAPTER 23

Grace

Somehow, on jittery, unstable legs, I made it back to my car in the garage. Emotions were slamming into me. I felt like I had just drunk seven pots of coffee in a row and then gotten slapped across the face repeatedly. I sank down in my car seat, closed the door and let out a long, shaky breath. Carson Stinger. Holy hell! I felt like a bomb had just gone off in front of me and I should check myself over for shrapnel.

I had a vague impression that it was my life that had just gone up in flames, but I didn't know exactly how or why.

I tried to clear my head. Okay, so I had just unexpectedly run into a man that I had spent a weekend with almost five years ago. He had helped me to discover some things about myself that had had a positive influence on my life. Great. Good. We had both moved on with our lives. I was engaged now to a man who was good for me, a man who loved me. Carson had obviously moved on with his life too. He had gone into the Navy, become a SEAL. Holy crap! A strong surge of pride rose up in my chest. Wait, what? Why was I proud of him? I shook my head slightly, trying to clear it. Moving on.

When he told me he had come to see me in D.C., grief had washed over me. I was still having a hard time thinking about that. Would things have been different? I bit my lip. I couldn't wonder about that. If he had shown up that day, I may not have the life I had now. I may not be with Alex…

I leaned up and looked at myself in the car mirror and frowned. "Get it together, Grace," I whispered to my own reflection.

I started my car and drove to the garage exit and back out onto the strip.

As I drove to my office, my mind stayed on Carson. God, when I first saw him, I had thought I would pass out. I hoped that Detective Powers hadn't been able to see how much that chance encounter affected me. How embarrassing. I had totally lost my cool.

And now I had made dinner plans with him? I groaned out loud. What was I going to tell Alex? I had tried to rush out of there–so overwhelmed with the emotions pummeling me, I could hardly think straight. But he had stopped me and I was weak. God, after all this time, I was still affected by him. But holy shit, Batman, what woman wouldn't be affected by him? I had thought he was hot five years ago? Now he was a blazing inferno. Somehow that boyishness that he had had going on back then was roughened up a little bit, not gone, but chipped away–giving him an edge that he didn't have before. And that damn dimple still worked its magic, shaking me up every time he flashed a smile and it made an appearance.

His hair was shorter, and although he was still lean, I could tell that his muscles were even more chiseled, even though they were hidden under the suit he was wearing. And there was something behind his eyes that hadn't been there before–maybe a worldliness? I wanted to know more. God help me, I did. I stopped at a red light and brought my palm up to my forehead. I shouldn't be thinking about him like this. It was highly inappropriate.

Not to mention the fact that he knew the man I was prosecuting–sounded like they were friends even. Was there a conflict of interest there, even having dinner? No, I didn't think so. It's not like he was involved in the case. But still, I wasn't going to lie to myself and say that it was just two old friends grabbing a bite to eat. We were two people that had spent a weekend having sex… lots of sex… lots of great sex.

My mind started to wander to places it shouldn't wander and I pulled up short. God, stop, Grace! What is wrong with you?

Yes, maybe it wasn't right that I was going to have dinner with him at all. But I longed to know how his life had come to the place where it was now. I longed to know how he was doing. I had thought about him so often over the years. I would have dinner with him, catch up, and then we'd go our separate ways. He lived in the same city I lived in. Okay. That was fine. I would–