A Place to Call Home

by Jessica Berg

  “Dominick, I—”

  Phoebe and Noah rushed into the room. “Good news, Grace. You get to go home. Today.” Phoebe spun in a circle.

  Noah brought her to a stop by promptly planting a kiss on her mouth. After romantically and permanently subduing Phoebe, Noah blushed. “Sorry, Grace, that’s the only way I can get her to settle down.”

  “Must be such a hardship.”

  Noah winked. “It’s a hardship I’m sure I can endure.” He tucked Phoebe against him. “As soon as the doctor gives you your final check over, you are free to leave. You will be amazed when you get—” A puff of hair escaped his lungs as Phoebe’s elbow made contact with his ribcage. “What you do that for?”

  “It’s a secret,” Phoebe whispered. “It’s a good thing you’re so darn cute.”

  Grace pursed her lips. “What’s this?”

  “No, no, no. You will not weasel it out of any of us.” Dominick picked up his daughter. “Right, princess?”

  Lilly simply stared at Grace. With the accusing voice only a four-year-old can muster, Lilly stated, “You missed the 4th of July.”

  “Oh, Lilly, I know. I’m sorry.” Grace glanced at her hands, white and bulky with wrappings.

  As soon as Lilly saw the bandages, she squirmed from Dominick’s hold and scampered to Grace’s bedside. “You have big owies. I need to fix them.”

  “You sure do. Why don’t you bring your doctor kit over to my house, and you can fix me up.”

  Lilly climbed onto her lap. Dominick reached for her, but Grace waved him off. Lilly carefully picked her way up her legs and laid her head on Grace’s chest. “There’s a drum inside you. Daddy has one too.” She rested her cheek on Lilly’s soft hair. “I wanted to save a firework for you. Daddy wouldn’t let me.”

  “With you around, I’m not sure I need fireworks.”

  Lilly pouted. “I’m not a firework. I’m a princess.”

  Dominick reached for his daughter. “You sure are.” He handed Lilly to Noah and bent to whisper in Grace’s ear, “What were you going to tell me before we were rudely interrupted by the love birds?”

  Grace bit her lip. “I’ll tell you tonight.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  ***

  “Is the blindfold necessary?” Grace leaned into Dominick’s arms as he guided her across the gravel driveway.

  “Trust me.”

  She did. She would. Somewhere along the line, her heart had learned how to trust again. Not that her heart didn’t pinch slightly whenever she thought of Kevin, but the man beside her had methodically and annoyingly, at times, conquered her heart and destroyed the dragon lurking there.

  Whispers and a slight commotion tore her away from her reverie. She listened, but could not pick out any distinct sounds, just whispers, a few stifled giggles, and shuffling feet. Dominick stopped, and the next thing she knew, she stood by herself in the artificial darkness. She cocked her head, trying to make out the muffled voices.

  “Go ahead, Grace. Take off your blindfold.” Dominick rested his hands on her shoulders.

  She slipped the blindfold from her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart stopped beating for a millisecond.

  No more construction equipment. No more scaffolding. No more noise. Only the once dilapidated Victorian standing proudly in the center of the peaceful Kansas prairie. The new windows sparkled, and the fresh white paint welcomed her home, refreshed her.

  “It’s done.” He handed her a shiny new pair of house keys.

  “All? The whole house is done?”

  He tucked a piece of wayward hair behind her right ear. “Yes. Your and Phoebe’s house is done.” Dominick winked. “You no longer need me.”

  She stood on tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “My need for you has just begun.”

  “Grace, I—”

  Phoebe rushed to Grace and wrapped her in a bear hug.

  “We did it, Grace. You and I. We conquered it.” She let go of Grace and gestured to the house. “It’s not a nightmare anymore, is it? Is Dad proud of us? Can he finally rest in peace?”

  She wrapped her arm around Phoebe. “He’s always been proud of us. This time, we can be proud of us. He never needed the peace. We needed it. But we fought our demons, Pheebs, and made something glorious out of something ugly.”

  Dominick looped his arm through Grace’s and made a grand sweeping gesture toward the house. “Shall we?”

  She stopped herself from running up the porch steps. Phoebe opened the door, and Dominick ushered Grace through the threshold. “It’s amazing.”

  Even though the majority of the house had been completed before Leo’s attack, there had been dust, debris, and clutter of construction chaos. That was all gone. Nothing remained but gleaming stained floors, clean painted walls, crisp crown molding, and artfully woven rugs. In a trance, she walked through the entire house. The guest rooms, each done in a different color, created a soft rainbow sure to welcome her future guests.

  The men must have been cleaning into the wee hours of the night. She inspected her clean finger after running it along the mahogany mantle of the fireplace in the master suite.

  “What’s wrong?” Dominick snaked his arm around her waist.

  She laughed through her tears. “Nothing at all. This is all too much to take in. You all must have worked so hard.” Grace hugged Phoebe, Noah, and Dominick. “Thank you.”

  “You owe me a lifetime of Blizzards.” Phoebe scrunched up her nose. “I named my dust rag. We were buddies.”

  Dominick smoothed Grace’s hair. “There’s something else I have to show you.”

  “Aren’t you coming, Pheebs?” She asked when Phoebe didn’t follow them out of the room.

  Phoebe grinned from ear to ear as Noah wrapped his arms around her. “Nope. This is a surprise for you only.”

  Grace barely caught the wink Dominick gave her sister. “What’s the big surprise?”

  Dominick grinned mischievously. “Good things come to those who wait. Close your eyes.” He placed his arm around her shoulders and led her out the backdoor and down the back porch steps. “Go ahead. Open them.”

  She obeyed and gasped. Her gazebo. Red geraniums in white flower boxes circled the top white railing of the rounded turreted structure. A vibrant carpet of fresh sod along with red and white geraniums ran parallel on both sides of the cobblestone walkway leading to the small pond, blue and sparkling in the sunlight. Behind the gazebo and pond lay the small patch of woods that had twice harbored danger for Grace.

  Fear had no power here, though. Not anymore. Only hope. Hope for her future. She inhaled and absorbed everything—the scent of the geraniums, the fresh paint, the earthy smell of the sod, the delicious cologne from Dominick. She exhaled everything she’d been holding in for what felt like a lifetime—the bitterness, the distrust, the anger. She was finally home.

  “Oh, Dominick,” Grace whispered, “it’s perfect.”

  “Not yet, however, you are the only one who can make it perfect.”

  She placed a hand on his cheek and rubbed the day-old stubble, savored the roughness of it, wanted that texture under her lips. “I’m not perfect. Far from it. In fact, if I were you, I would have left me a long time ago.” She placed a finger to his lips. “Let me have my say, please. I’m sorry. For everything. I would like to start over if you don’t mind.”

  “How else could I have named you Spitfire.” He cocked his head. “What were you going to tell me yesterday.”

  Her body warmed, and her heart thudded. “I love you too.”

  He tasted her, coaxed her open, teased her until her bones melted to jelly, and her skin tingled. She entwined her fingers behind his neck and pulled him deeper, wanted him to imprint himself upon her.

  He pulled back on a groan, his lips millimeters from hers. “I could get too used to that.”

  “I never did believe the idea of everything in moderation.”

  With a growl, he partook of h
er again, seeming to devour her, and she let him. Joy, elation, love flowing between them. The house behind her wasn’t home. He was.

  Chapter 23

  “You have to open doors for her,” Lilly coached as she stood on a chair, spiking his newly-cropped hair with a tad too much hair gel. “Mrs. Wisel says so.” Dominick bit back a grin as Lilly’s tiny fingers continued working their misplaced magic. “Done.”

  His reflection told him what he’d already known. He’d have to fix his hair in the truck. “It looks great, princess. Grace won’t recognize me.” And she might not. When he’d left the Marines, he’d left the requisite high-and-tight in the dust as well. Coming to terms with his past, he’d cut off his messy locks to memorialize the weightlessness of not only his hair but his soul. In civilian mode, he’d left the top long enough to style, much to the delight of his daughter, who brought his head back down to re-spike an already deadly point.

  He grabbed her hand, kissed the back of it. “Grace will like it just the way it is.”

  She stuck his cologne bottle in his face. “Need to smell good too.”

  Before she sprayed him for the third time, he planted a kiss on her forehead. “Daddy has enough. Why don’t you go spray Mr. Bear.”

  Lilly skipped off with his cologne. He made a mental note to order more and get Mr. Bear dry cleaned. He unbuttoned the top button on his shirt, imagined Grace unbuttoning the rest. The doorbell rang, sounding the death knell on his thoughts. Lilly danced down the hallway, singing her babysitter’s praises, announcing in a high voice that Daddy needed to leave.

  Five minutes later, he parked in front of Grace’s house. Potted flowers swung in the breeze along the upper beams of the porch, the deep purple and magenta fuchsia flowers dripping from the pots. Rope lights wound through the railings of the porch, and solar lights dotted the front landscaping. He couldn’t wait to watch them twinkle in the darkness, he and Grace snuggled on the porch swing, her head tucked in his shoulder.

  “Coming in?” Phoebe rapped against the driver’s door. “She’s been pacing since this morning, mumbling under her breath, and driving me bat crap crazy. Please take her away.”

  “She’s driving you crazy?”

  “I know. Odd, huh?”

  He followed her up the porch steps. “This looks amazing.”

  “Thanks. I had to restring the lights five times, and I’m sure some squirrel or an act of God will make them crooked again, but I’ve come to terms with that.”

  “Something wrong?”

  Phoebe tapped a dangling flower above her head. “Have you heard from Noah?”

  “I assume you haven’t?”

  She flicked the flower this time. “No. Just wondering if he’s fallen off the face of the earth or something.”

  “No. He’s just an idiot.”

  “Glad someone else agrees. Grace keeps coming up with excuses for him. All of them stupid, of course.”

  “Of course.” He opened the door, Phoebe sailed in before him. “I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’ll check on him if you want me to.”

  “Yes. No. Maybe.” She huffed. “Whatever. I’ll go get Grace.” And she stomped away, muttering the word, “men.”

  In spite of her injuries, Grace had been busy. Artwork, period pieces, and fresh flowers gave the house a new lease on life. Guests who came would be sure to feel welcome and at home the moment they entered the foyer.

  “Hi.”

  His heart stuttered. Her long auburn hair curled over tanned shoulders left bare by the pale yellow strapless dress flowing down her body, flaring out above her knees. White wedges brought her to his height, making it easier to kiss her. Which he did.

  She sighed against him, breaking off the kiss and wiping his lips with her thumb. “I told Phoebe lipstick would only get in the way, but she wouldn’t shut up —”

  He stopped her with another kiss. “I don’t care. Lipstick or no.”

  She played her hands, palms wrapped in gauze, clumsily over his shorn hair, goosebumps following in their wake. She tentatively poked at a cemented point. “Lilly’s doing?”

  “By the time I escaped her hair-stylist chair, it was permanent.”

  “I like it. You look dangerous.”

  A bolt of heat shot through his core. “Phoebe has ordered me to take you away. I think forever, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

  “Yes, take me away. She’s come up with every insult in the book for that poor man.”

  “Noah? The guy who’s failed to text her for forty-eight hours?”

  “It’s been fifty-six, but who’s counting.” She fumbled for her purse, a frilly concoction he wasn’t sure was big enough to hold much of anything and slung it over her shoulder. “Anyway, he’s planning a surprise for her and doesn’t have the strength yet to be in her presence without spilling all of his secrets. He’ll have to learn to have stamina around her. I can’t take another round of ‘he hates me’ much longer. Why just the other day, she had him admitting to wetting the bed until he was eleven.”

  Dominick choked on a laugh. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Sweeter words were never spoken.”

  “How about these,” he pulled her to him and whispered, “you are gorgeous and kissable and delightful and pretty and—”

  “Lilly’s advice again?”

  “Well, she told me to tell you that I like you more than any other girl I’ve ever known, but I figured I’d flower it up some.”

  “Lilly would be proud.”

  He helped her in the pickup, making sure her seatbelt buckled correctly, and dang near skipped to the driver’s side.

  “Where to, my lady?” The engine roared to life, echoing the roar of heat coursing through his body.

  “Anywhere with you.”

  “Reed’s Diner, it is.” He grinned at her cocked eyebrow. “No? You did say anywhere.”

  “This is not a Reed’s Diner dress.” She smoothed the material. His gaze followed her fingers.

  “No. That it is not. It’s a Diary Queen dress.” She smacked his arm, winced and whispered a curse. “Well, you leave me no choice. I must kidnap you for several hours to make your dress happy.”

  “My dress is trembling in anticipation.”

  His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “I hope you like Italian.”

  “Ever since I watched Lady and the Tramp as a little girl, I thought it the most romantic food in the world. Until I tried sucking a noodle into my mouth. Spaghetti sauce everywhere. I might have to wear a bib.”

  “I’m sure I can arrange something for you. Or you can order lasagna.”

  “And miss the messy fun?” She slipped on over-size sunglasses. “No way.”

  He’d driven to Wichita more times than he cared to admit, had each herd of cattle numbered and named, knew every curve in the road when one did him a favor and broke the monotony, but this drive with Grace in the shotgun seat made this journey one of anticipation. She laughed at his stupid jokes, probably out of pity, and occasionally touched the back of his hand with her fingers.

  “Okay, that was pretty bad.” She held her stomach. “You shouldn’t repeat that joke to anyone. Ever.”

  “It’s not Sally’s fault that she has no arms.”

  “Okay. Stupid joke for stupid joke. You ready?”

  “Hit me.”

  “Why did the monkey fall out of the tree?”

  He swerved to miss a brave gopher. “No idea.”

  “It died.”

  He barked out a laugh. “And you, babe, should never repeat that joke to anyone. Ever.”

  “Well, we are stuck telling each other bad jokes for the rest of our lives.”

  She rested her arm on the back of the seat and fondled the hairs at the back of his neck. “That sounds wonderful.”

  Her hands felt wonderful. Warmth spread through him like a shot of whiskey. “Yes, full of dead monkeys and armless Sallys. We will be alone in our happiness though as we might scare off potential friends
.”

  “It’ll be our little secret. To everyone else, we will be a normal couple.”

  “I like that word.” She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder.

  “Normal?”

  “No. ‘Couple.’”

  So did he. For the rest of the trip, he concentrated on driving, even though every part of him wanted to pull over and kiss her until they were both senseless.

  Nerves had never kept her from enjoying her food, but sitting across from Dominick looking deliciously dangerous in his blue button-up and Lilly-styled hair had even her spaghetti with meatballs congealing in her stomach. She should have chosen a different option as her choice had left a stain on the bosom of her dress within the first seconds of the waiter setting it before her. Stupid meatballs. Stupid bandages.

  “If you keep messing with it, it will only set the stain.” Dominick’s advice stilled her hands.

  She set the napkin down. “Expert in stains, I see.”

  “Have you met my daughter? Stain is her middle name.”

  “What is her middle name?”

  “Rose.” He took a sip of his wine. “Carmen’s middle name.”

  “Tell me about her.” She clutched awkwardly at his hand, cursing the gauze between them. “She was an integral part of you. She is half of Lilly. She still holds a piece of your heart. You shouldn’t stuff her memory in a dark corner.”

  “Thank you.” Another sip of wine. “She humbled me. She truly was my better half. Believe it or not, I was a cocky sucker—”

  She snorted. “No. Really?”

  “I should kiss that smirk off your face.”

  “You do, do you?” She motioned with her hands. “You were a cocky sucker, and…?”

  “She, with no niceness or gentleness about it, told me I wasn’t as awesome as I thought.”

  “She sounds delightful.”

  “She was.” A silence filled the air above the booth. The flickering candle between them the only movement. He started. “Sorry. Got lost down memory lane.”

  “I’d like to travel with you, though. If that’s okay with you.” Part of her wanted him to deny her request, leave only his heart for her, bury his dead wife in his past. But she knew that was unfair. Carmen had made him into the man sitting across from her, his thumb caressing her exposed fingertips. Would be the woman sitting across from him if evil hadn’t have interrupted their lives. “Did she like your jokes?”