“True.” Grace shot her father a grin.
“If your car is going to give you trouble, it’s just as well it does it while you’re here at home,” her father said.
Grace had to agree. Still, it was a frustration.
“I suppose I’ll call a tow truck,” she said. “And I have to cancel with Billy.”
“Cancel what?” her father asked.
“I was going to give him and his daughter a lesson at the library this afternoon,” she said.
“You’ve been seeing a lot of him,” her father commented.
“Yeah, well...you know the situation,” she replied.
“Just don’t let him take advantage,” her father said. “You’re a giving person, and you tend to care more than you’re obliged to.”
“I’m in control, Dad,” she said, giving him her most teacherly smile. “Completely.”
A lie, but one she was determined to make true, so maybe it wasn’t so bad. She pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket, and her father ambled out of the kitchen, leaving her in relative privacy.
Grace wanted to call Billy, and that was the problem. She missed him, and she’d seen him last night! This was worse than it used to be. Before, she’d only imagined what his arms around her would feel like, and now she knew. Not only was she attracted to him, but he was equally attracted to her—and it still wouldn’t work!
She dialed Billy’s phone number and waited. It rang three times, and then he picked up.
“Yeah?”
“Hi, Billy, it’s Grace.”
“Hey, Gracie.” His voice warmed.
“I have to cancel on you,” she said. “I’m sorry, but I’m having car trouble, and I won’t make it to the library today, so...”
“What kind of car trouble?” He didn’t seem in the same hurry she was.
“It won’t start,” she said. “So I’m calling a tow, and I’ll have it taken care of. But tell Poppy I’m sorry. I know she’ll be disappointed.”
“What happens when you turn the key?” Billy asked. He sounded more interested in the mechanical problem than the fact that she was canceling on him.
“I don’t know. Dad’s the one who discovered it,” she replied.
“Because if it kind of clicks when you turn the key, it might be the starter. I’ve got a spare one around here somewhere. But if it kind of grinds, over and over again, that’s something different again. I could probably—”
“No,” she said. “I’m not hinting that I need help. I’m fine.”
“Who’s hinting?” he teased. “You do need help. Unless you can fix your own car, you’re in a bind.”
“I can call a tow truck!” She was feeling exasperated now. “This is what people do!”
“And how long will the garage take to get to your car? It’s the weekend,” he replied.
Grace sighed. He did have a point. And she was planning on leaving town on Wednesday. It would be frustrating to have to put that off for a few more days because her car was still in the shop.
“I’ll take the grudging silence for agreement,” he said. “I’m your friend, Grace. Friends help each other out.”
“Look, after yesterday—” she started.
“Your parents will be around, I presume,” he interrupted. “Very effective chaperones, I’m sure. And there’s Poppy, of course. Besides, I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself.” She could hear the smile in his voice, and in her mind she could see that flirtatious grin of his.
“Fine,” she said. “I do need a hand.”
“Glad to help.” His voice was warm again. “We’ll be there in an hour.”
He hung up before she could wisely change her mind. She looked down at her clothes. She wouldn’t change—that was a conscious choice. She’d keep her hair back in a ponytail, wear her comfy sweater and she wouldn’t put on anymore makeup, either. Maybe it would be good to give him a jolt—remind him of the woman she was underneath all the primping she now enjoyed. He’d never been attracted to her when she looked like this, and it might do her good to have the desire in his eyes fade.
An hour later, Billy arrived as promised, and he and Poppy came up to the side door. Grace had told her parents of Billy’s offer to help, and while her mother had been glad to hear it, her father had been mildly annoyed. Now her mother sat in the kitchen with an egg white omelet in front of her, and when Grace opened the door, Connie waved at their new arrivals.
“Hey,” Billy said, his dark eyes meeting Grace’s for a beat, then slid down to her clothes. He was noticing it, she thought, but his expression didn’t betray anything. He waved over her shoulder at her mother. “Morning, Mrs. Beverly.”
“Good morning,” Connie replied. “Hi, Poppy, I haven’t gotten to meet you yet.”
Poppy came inside and leaned against Grace’s leg, and she felt a wave of love for the little girl. It was sweet that she’d lean into her teacher for reassurance, and Grace would miss her dearly. She smoothed a reassuring hand over Poppy’s shiny blond hair.
“That’s my mom,” Grace said. “You can call her Mrs. Beverly, if you want.”
“Hi,” Poppy said.
“I hear you like numbers,” Connie said. “That true?”
Poppy nodded.
“Good, because I’m an accountant. Or I was one until I retired. That’s someone who works with lots and lots of numbers.”
“Oh, yeah?” Poppy’s eye lit up.
“You want to see a spreadsheet?” Connie asked with a sparkle in her eye. “I can show you debits and credits and all sorts of fun stuff.”
“Yeah!” Poppy didn’t even ask for permission, and Connie grinned up at Grace.
“Finally, a child who sees the joy in numbers,” Connie said with a chuckle. Then she turned back to Poppy. “Have you had lunch yet? I’m pretty sure I have chocolate milk.”
Grace glanced up at Billy. “Ready to see the car?”
“Yep.” He caught her eye and smiled—that slow, melting smile she’d always associated with him—and he turned toward the door. “Let’s get ’er fixed.”
Grace glanced back at her mother, who was already rooting through the fridge for Poppy’s chocolate milk. Then she grabbed her coat, stepped into her boots and followed Billy out the door. This felt more like old times—Grace dressed down and Billy heart-stoppingly gorgeous. She followed him over to her car and handed him the keys.
“You look like you used to,” he said, closing his warm hand over her fingers. “I think I recognize that Raiders sweatshirt.”
Grace smiled. “Sometimes a girl likes to be comfortable.”
“I gave it to you,” he said.
Grace stopped, remembering. “Yeah, you did, didn’t you?”
“When you got drenched by my broken tap that one time. You borrowed it to get home and never gave it back,” he added. “So you stole it, more accurately.”
“It was comfortable,” she said in defense. Billy had been a part of everything...every part of home. There was no way to weed him out of all of her memories—she simply had to accept his presence there. Her future, however, had to be different.
Billy pulled open the car door and slid into the driver’s seat while Grace stood there, waiting. Always waiting... It had been the story of her life back then, and while it had hurt, she’d gotten used to that ache in her heart.
Yes, this felt a whole lot more familiar.
* * *
BILLY TURNED THE key and listened to the grind of the engine. So not the starter, after all. He could see Grace outside, her expression grim. She looked more like the old Grace today—the sweatshirt, the jeans, the hair pulled back into a no-nonsense ponytail. Even the lack of makeup made her look more like she used to—more approachable, maybe. Still beautiful, though. Still alluring. He could see the soft pink in her cheeks, the sparkle in those blue eyes,
the fringe of dark lashes that didn’t need a hint of makeup. He still wanted to find a way to get her back into his arms today...except that he’d promised he wouldn’t.
Why was it that he could see all the logical reasons they’d never work, but get him within six feet of her lately, and he couldn’t seem to remember any of them?
Billy got back out and smiled reassuringly at her as he popped the hood. He missed the days when Grace was only a short drive away, when he could hang out with her whenever they were both free and when he topped her list of priorities. He’d squandered it—that was for sure. And he couldn’t understand how he’d missed out on her understated allure. Makeup or not, new clothes or not, she was stunning. And somehow he’d never associated that with what they could have had between them. He’d always gone for women with problems as big as his were, women more on his level. Women like Grace Beverly, with the educated parents, top grades and a world of possibilities unfurling in front of them, were not destined for the likes of him.
“Come on,” Billy said, shooting her a grin. “You missed this.”
Grace shook her head, those clear blue eyes meeting his easily enough. “Not really.”
“Hanging out, me fixing your car...” He smiled hesitantly. Had she really been so unhappy all that time?
“It’s different now, isn’t it?” Grace said.
“What?” Billy asked. “Us? Hanging out?”
“The sweatshirt. The ponytail. This helps with our little problem—going back to what I was.”
Suddenly the lightbulb went on and he saw what she meant—except she was dead wrong.
“That helps?” he asked incredulously. “Not exactly. I promised you I’d keep my hands to myself, and I’m trying to make good on that. Besides—” he glanced over her shoulder “—I think I see your father in the window.”
Grace looked behind her, then raised an eyebrow at him.
“Now, your dad in the window? That helps me keep my hands to myself.”
Grace glared at him. “You can admit it, Billy.”
He knew what she was getting at—that her new clothes had made her suddenly seem more attractive, and she was trying to remind him of days gone by when he’d missed out on her beauty. But he wasn’t going to give her that satisfaction. Besides, it wasn’t true that his feelings for her were based on her clothing and a little lipstick.
“I’m a man,” he said quietly, fixing her with a stare.
“I know. And you have a type of woman you’re drawn to. I get it. My point is that this is what I am. I can dress it up. I can put on a little makeup, but under that primping is this. In the morning, when I wake up—”
“Shut up, Grace!” he said with an exasperated sigh. “I’m going to try and explain this real quick before your dad comes out. I’m male. I’m visual. I like what I see, and you’re right—I like those new outfits. Here’s how my brain works. I kissed you before, and I haven’t stopped at least thinking about doing it again.”
“I wouldn’t get ahead of yourself,” she replied with a short laugh.
“Trust me, I’m not,” he replied. He wasn’t joking right now. “I’m not trying to toy with you. I’m just saying... I’m more interested in the woman than the fashion statement. So lipstick, new clothes—sure, I can appreciate that. But it’s not about that. I missed you like crazy for three years, and it was never about some clothes...”
She blushed. “Maybe, but right now I’m someone you can flirt with safely.”
“I wouldn’t call you safe,” he said, his voice dropping. “Safe flirting is with a woman who I don’t care if I ever see again. You—I care. And yeah, you’re a big risk for me, but I want you in my life. Somehow. And we agreed that we’d cool this off. For good reason. So I’m doing that. I don’t want to mess up my last chance of keeping my best friend.”
Holding himself back from pulling her into his arms—it was taking a whole lot more willpower than she was giving him credit for. He was holding himself back because he cared about her...and his daughter. He wasn’t going to be the guy who toyed with his best friend, his daughter’s beloved teacher. Maybe he was growing, too.
Tears misted Grace’s eyes. “I don’t want to lose my best friend, either, Billy.”
Billy couldn’t help the smile that came to his face. “Am I allowed to hug you like old times?”
“Nope. But you can fix my car.” She met his gaze, and he saw the playful smile he’d missed so much.
“Yeah, yeah, that was a given,” he chuckled.
It took all of the self-control he could muster to keep himself from closing that distance between them. There had been a time that hanging out had been the norm, but it wasn’t enough anymore. Now he wouldn’t ever feel satisfied without her in his arms, covering her lips with his and letting the world fade away around them...
But what was satisfaction? He’d have to make do without it. She had for a whole lot of years, and now it was his turn. He turned back to the open hood of the car and leaned over the engine.
“I’ll give you another reading lesson when we’re done,” Grace added.
“Thanks.”
He needed Grace in his life one way or another. It wasn’t about her teaching him to read, or even tutoring his daughter—he needed her. She was the one who plugged up the hole in his heart and made him feel like he could face the world.
He’d finish fixing her car this afternoon, and in a few days, she’d go back to Denver, and at least he’d be able to call her. Maybe she’d come back to visit her parents and he and Poppy could take her out to dinner. Even that didn’t feel like enough, but it was better than facing life without her in it entirely.
He’d take what he could get.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MONDAY WAS GRACE’S last day of teaching, and as she looked over her class of energetic preschoolers, her heart filled with love. They were sweet kids—each one a unique compilation of passions, feelings and challenges they were working through. In twelve weeks, she’d seen one child stop wetting his pants every day, and another child learn how to share. A little girl had stopped eating glue sticks. Then there was little Nathan, who started breaking crayons every chance he got... But that was life with teaching. And in the last two weeks, Poppy had arrived and blossomed as she soaked up every bit of knowledge Grace could send her way.
A few weeks could change so much in the life of a little kid...and in a woman, too. A few weeks was enough time to get attached.
“All right, friends,” Grace said, raising her voice above the hubbub of chattering children. “It’s time to clean up and get ready to go!”
Poppy wasn’t in the classroom right now. She was having a special chat with Mr. Shaw, who wanted to see if Poppy had musical aptitude, as well. Grace had done everything she could to prepare the school for Poppy’s brilliance. A school counselor and several teachers, including Mr. Shaw, were determined to give Poppy all the encouragement and challenge she needed.
Billy wasn’t going to be on his own with his daughter’s education, and perhaps that was the best gift Grace could leave him with—a cooperative and enthusiastic educational team.
“So let’s clean up the crayons and stick them in the crayon buckets!” Grace sang out. “And remember, you get Mrs. Powell back tomorrow, so make sure you tell her how much you missed her while she was gone!”
“Is her baby out of her tummy now?” a little boy asked.
“Yes, he is,” Grace said. “So now she can come back and teach all of you. Isn’t that great?”
“Will she bring the baby to school?” a little girl asked.
“I doubt it,” Grace chuckled. “But she’ll have missed all of you a whole lot. I know that, because I’m going to miss all of you, too.”
That seemed to satisfy the inquiring minds, and Grace turned her attention to the flurry of end-of-day cleanup. Before she knew it
, the parents were picking up the children who didn’t catch a bus. One by one they left, until Grace was alone in the classroom. This was it...her time at Eagle’s Rest Elementary had come to an end.
She turned in a full circle, taking in the room. Funny how she could get so attached to a space in so short a time. The sand table, the work spaces, the little pots of play dough and the corkboard where she’d displayed all the most recent artwork from those little fingers...
“Grace?”
She knew his voice immediately. She turned to see Billy in the doorway. He stood tall, and she felt a rush of tenderness at the sight of him. She’d miss this man more than he probably knew.
Billy came into the classroom and glanced around the room.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey.” His voice was low and warm. “Where’s Poppy?”
“She’s in the music room with Mr. Shaw.”
“What are they up to?”
“I set her up with an appointment so that he could assess her musical ability.”
“Why would that matter?” Billy asked, frowning slightly.
“It might be a great creative outlet. You never know.”
“Ah.” Billy nodded, then broke off the eye contact. “Getting ready for when you’re not here, you mean.”
“Yes.” Her throat tightened. It was an emotional day all around, but with Billy, everything went deeper.
“I really wish you were staying.”
“Mrs. Powell isn’t about to give up her position,” Grace said with a forced smile. “And she’s a good teacher. At least I’ve heard really good things about her. I’m making sure that there is strong educational support here at the school for Poppy to move forward with—”
“Yeah, but what I’m feeling for you isn’t just about teaching, Gracie,” he replied, and he pulled off his cowboy hat and rubbed a hand through his hair. Those dark eyes searched out hers again.
There was nothing she could do about it. Her life was in Denver; this had just been a trip home, a short maternity-leave position. And yet it had become something much deeper and more painful to leave behind.
Falling for the Cowboy Dad Page 19
