"Oh my God, Alex said he might come by with dinner. I thought it had gotten too late. That's probably him," I hissed out.

Carson stood up and I jumped up next to him. "Break it off with him, Grace," he said, starting to go toward the door.

"Wait!" I whispered. "You can't open that door!"

He turned and walked back to me in just a couple steps, taking my face in his hands. His expression was tight. "I haven't been with anyone else either," he said, his eyes studying my face. "Not since you." My eyes widened and my mouth dropped open. "What?" I laughed out nervously. I was caught off guard, shocked. How could that possibly be true? In almost five years, Carson Stinger, sex-on-a-stick, man-whore, sex-God hadn't been with anyone else? I opened my mouth to speak and then snapped it closed. He continued to study my face, and I continued to study his. Finally, I breathed out, "Why?"

He opened his mouth to speak when a second knock sounded, this time louder.

"This won't look good. Please, you need to go out the back door, Carson," I whispered. "Can you do it quietly?"

He kept looking at me for a few beats and then his face broke into a slow grin, that magical dimple doing its worst. God, he was… breathtaking. My heart sped up at the sheer beauty of him. "I might have some expertise in stealthy getaways, Buttercup," he said, letting go of my face and moving toward the sliding glass door that led to the small patio at the back of my house.

My mouth fell open, words stuck in my throat and he was gone.

Carson

As I moved around the side of Grace's house, I heard her front door open and a male voice say, "Dinner delivery! What took you so long to answer?"

He sounded like a fucking dickwad. I shook my head slightly. That wasn't really fair. If Grace liked him, he was probably a decent guy. And that was the part that fucked with me even more. I really wanted to hate him.

"Oh, I was getting out of the shower!" I heard Grace lie.

I clenched my jaw and walked to my truck, parked in front of her neighbor's house. I hated sneaking out like I was some kind of thief. But I had made it very clear what I wanted. Now I just had to hope she figured out that she wanted the same thing.

I clenched my jaw. Maybe Grace and Alex weren't fucking, but I still bet he was in there holding her and kissing her. Yeah, I really wanted to hate him.

I got up into my truck and sat there for a minute. I had told her that I hadn't been with anyone either. She had laughed as if that was the most unbelievable thing in the world. I guess I would have thought so too if the last "me" I knew was from five years ago. I wanted to explain why. I wanted to tell her what I'd gone through. I longed to open up to Grace. I hadn't opened up to anyone since her–not in any true sense. Jesus, I just wanted her in every way possible. She was aggravating as all hell, but what did I expect? We had run into each other three days ago and I was asking her to change her whole life for me. But I was willing to make concessions for her too. She just didn't realize the extent of it yet.

I started my truck up and drove the five minutes home. All these years, I had thought of her and not known where she was, what was going on in her life. Now I knew she was five minutes from me. And it hurt worse than knowing she was a continent away.

Grace

Christmas was in a week. I immersed myself in last minute shopping and work, including the Garner case. The trial was set for the end of January and so I had time to prepare my case, not that there was very much new evidence. The autopsy on the victim had come back and other than the obvious cause of death, a gunshot wound to her head, there was no physical trauma, no health issues, and no drugs in her system. Even more interesting, from what the M.E. could tell, was that she was a virgin. That put a kink in the whole, prostitution-pick-up-gone-wrong motive theory. Still, the DNA evidence was inscrutable. The accused's blood was at the scene on the rock, and the victim's blood was found on clothing at his apartment. Not to mention that the bullet removed from the victim was from Josh Garner's gun. I didn't think we'd need to provide a motive with evidence like that.

There were no witnesses to prepare other than the M.E. and a DNA expert, so I felt like I was on top of the case. Which was good because I had taken a week of vacation time to go home for Christmas. Alex was coming with me and I couldn't wait to spend family time, basking in the comfort of home and tradition. I needed it for the mental health it would bring. I was in dire need of mental health.

I hadn't talked to Carson since he had left my house via the back, sliding glass door a couple of days before. I needed space. Everything with him had come on so fast, so unexpectedly. Just like the first time. I guess that was just us. Not that there was an us. But still. I was reeling. And I was still feeling guilty and brittle over what I'd done to Alex, something I didn't have any intention of telling him about. We weren't married yet. Yes, technically, I knew I had cheated on him. But, would it really hurt him if he never knew that once his fiance had kissed another man? Oh okay, and had an intense orgasm on another man's muscular thigh as he held her up against his office wall? I groaned out loud in shame and slapped my own forehead as I sat at my office desk. God, I hated myself.

Apparently, Carson was respecting the fact that I needed space from him because he hadn't contacted me. That was good. Although I was intensely curious about why he hadn't been with anyone else since me in almost five years. I wanted to ask him. And I had to admit to myself that a thrill raced up my spine whenever I thought about that. Was it simply because he had been overseas most of that time? That must be it. Still, weren't there willing women in ports all over the world? And why hadn't he taken Kira up on her advances? What were his reasons? I shouldn't care so much about knowing. After all, I had my own life now–and my own man to think about. I shouldn't be thinking so much about Carson. But I couldn't help it. God help me.

I had also been wondering more and more if Carson had anything to do with the case against Josh Garner. They were friends who had a military history and had both moved to Vegas at the same time, for essentially the same reason. That didn't mean Carson knew more than he had told Detective Powers when she interviewed him. But I got the feeling that he did. Add to that the fact that another teammate owned the hotel they both worked for and the large bail that had been posted, and questions kept rolling through my mind. Something nagged at my brain. There was a connection, I just couldn't fathom what it could be.

I sighed loudly and sat back in my chair. Getting away for a week would be good. I'd talk to my sisters–get a better perspective on this whole clusterfuck of a situation. Yes, that would be good for me. Just what I needed.

I worked until nine o'clock that night. Alex had started his vacation a day early as he'd put all his Christmas shopping off until the last minute and needed the day to hit the mall. Just like a man. I wondered where Carson was spending Christmas. I knew about his mom, and if their relationship was still the same as it'd been when I first met him, then surely he wouldn't be going back to L.A. I frowned and shook my head slightly, trying to clear the thoughts of Carson away. Whatever he was doing for Christmas was not my business.

When I got home that night, I immersed myself in laundry and packing and by the time I was done with that, I was exhausted. Alex would be picking me up at five the next morning in order to catch our flight. I put my p.j.'s on and got into bed.