The Price of Grace by Diana Munoz Stewart

Author:Diana Munoz Stewart [Stewart, Diana Munoz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9781492694090
Goodreads: 43352299
Publisher: Sourcebooks Casablanca
Published: 2019-09-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 38

Not much could ruin a stroll through the charming sidewalks of Bristol, Pennsylvania. Antiques stores, homemade ice cream, pancake places, mom-and-pop coffee shops, bookstores, and taverns along the Delaware River, cute as all hell.

Too bad Dusty’s brain wouldn’t let him enjoy it. Kept replaying Gracie’s reaction that morning. Shaken. Breathing hard. Angry. Pretty much obliterated cute as hell. Made his chest hurt that he couldn’t even call her.

She wanted space. He’d give it to her.

Space sucked.

Skirting an antique washboard with a rusted grill and an old pram doll carriage in front of one of the shops, Dusty went two doors down and entered a restaurant. Reminded him of a New York diner—thin, rectangular, with two-person booths, steel-poled barstools, and a long Formica countertop.

He automatically noted the number of people inside and where they were sitting. Not too busy. Practically empty. Two women in a booth. Three guys at the counter. Waitress. Cook.

He swung into the last blue-plastic booth, back to the wall, with a view of the front door, kitchen door, and reflection of the restroom doors in the mirrored glass behind the counter.

The waitress, a middle-aged woman with a been-there, done-that smile, handed him a menu. He thanked her. Told her he was waiting for someone.

Always liked to arrive early. Take in the surroundings, make a note of things. Recon never hurt anyone.

It was a good twenty minutes before Mack showed, wearing a suit as trim as his lanky frame. In all the time he’d known Mack, he’d never seen him put on an ounce. Not of muscle. Not of fat. He was immune to both, apparently.

In his dark suit, with his Mission: Impossible shades and his swagger, Mack couldn’t have looked more fed if he’d had a bard follow him around singing about his Quantico exploits.

Guy could tone it down. Look less uptight. Huh. Maybe Gracie and her vigilante ways were rubbing off on him. She sure had last night. He pushed the hot image of her away, far away.

Mack slid into the booth. “You look distracted.”

No shit. Dusty shook his hand. “No more than usual. How’s the fort?”

“Still secure. How’s the investigation?”

Here we go. “Investigation stalled. No leads. Getting nowhere with the asset.”

Nowhere he could put in a report, anyway.

Mack’s eyebrows rose. The waitress showed up, dropped off two glasses of water, and tried to hand Mack a menu. He shook his head. “Burger. No bun. No fries. Black coffee.”

“You’re going to live to be a thousand, Mack. And not one day is going to be even a tiny bit fun.” He handed the waitress his menu. “Give me the same with cheese fries and a sesame bun.”

She smiled at him before leaving. He took that as approval for a healthy appetite.

Mack’s dark eyebrows pinched together at the bridge of his nose. “Kind of surprised you admitted that about the investigation, Dusty. That’s part of why I asked you to come today.”

It was?

“I think you should let this case go.”

Dusty opened his mouth to argue, object. Closed it.

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