Betting on Grace

by Nicole Edwards

  Yes, that was exactly what he thought. But he didn’t say as much.

  “I’m not gonna lie to you and tell you that I understand what’s goin’ on with you and Gracie … and … and Lane. I’m not sure I want to know. But I will tell you that Gracie came to me because she’s scared. And that’s on you, son. You’re the one who has to figure out how to protect her from that fear. Do you think you can do that?”

  Grant nodded his head.

  “Good. Then get your ass outta here and figure it out before I get mad,” Jerry yelled.

  Well, shit. Grant’s feet wouldn’t move, and he knew that was an opportunity if he’d ever heard one, but he didn’t know how to walk away. He didn’t know how to fix what was broken. Grant was tempted to ask Jerry for help because … because Gracie wasn’t the only one who was scared.

  Hell. Grant was terrified.

  Especially after last night, after making love to her and coming to terms with the fact that he did love them both. That he would do anything for them. Protecting them from his crazy father was high on his to-do list, but without giving Darrell money, Grant had no idea how to make the man go away.

  Lane and Gracie had stood by his side when he’d been worried about his mother, and they had consoled him last night when the relief was so intense he could hardly breathe. And then what did he do? He was a chicken-shit, and he let his father lead him around by his fucking nose. All because Grant wanted to do the right thing. He wanted to protect the two people he loved more than anything.

  A firm hand landed on Grant’s shoulder, and he spun around, coming face to face with…

  Lane.

  Holy shit. For a minute, Grant had forgotten he was standing there.

  “Come on. We need to talk,” Lane said.

  And what did Grant do?

  Well, he nodded, of course.

  “But first we’ve gotta go help set up for tonight’s dance,” Lane told him and turned toward the arena where they held their monthly dances for the guests.

  Grant had no choice but to follow him. When he glanced over his shoulder one more time, he found that Jerry was gone. Where he’d gone, Grant had no idea, but he didn’t slow down to find out.

  It wasn’t until they reached the arena that Grant found his voice again. With a gentle hand on Lane’s arm, he tried to get the other man’s attention.

  “What?” Lane snarled, his reaction surprising Grant.

  “I thought you wanted to talk,” Grant bit out, trying desperately to keep his voice low.

  “No, what I really wanna do is punch you in the mouth,” Lane disputed.

  Great. Now they were going to have a fight right there in front of half the ranch. Grant glanced past Lane to see that several wranglers had stopped what they were doing to watch them.

  “Get to work!” Grant hollered.

  A chorus of grumbles echoed through the arena, but Grant turned his attention back to Lane, studying the harsh lines of the man’s face. Yeah, it was safe to say Lane was still angry.

  Not that Grant blamed him. After what Grant’s father had done…

  “Look, I’m sorry that my father barged in like that,” Grant began but was quickly cut off by the fury that lit Lane’s dark eyes.

  “You think I’m pissed off because he came in? No, man, I’m fuckin’ pissed because you’re enablin’ him. Do you think that givin’ him money is gonna get him off your back?”

  “No,” Grant growled. “That’s not what I think. But there are more important things at stake here.”

  “Like?” Lane asked, his arms crossing over his big chest as he stared back at Grant.

  “Like…” Shit. Grant couldn’t think. He didn’t know what to say to Lane to make this better, and that was all he cared to do.

  “Go on,” Lane encouraged. “Tell me what’s more important. I wanna hear it.”

  Grant’s jaw ticked, his anger making it difficult to think.

  “No, let me rephrase that,” Lane said as he moved closer, lowering his voice, “I need to hear it.”

  Glancing around, Grant noticed that there were still people watching, and the last thing he needed to do was get into an argument in front of God and everyone.

  “You, damn it. You’re more important. You and Gracie are it for me, Lane. Don’t you get that?”

  “No, I don’t get that,” Lane announced. “Maybe if you’d said something before, I might have an idea of how you feel.”

  Okay. Point well received. Grant knew he hadn’t told Lane how he felt. And last night, he hadn’t expected to tell Gracie, but everything had come to a head.

  He knew he should say something now, tell Lane that he loved him, but he couldn’t. Not here. There were too many eyes and ears around. So instead of doing the one thing that could fix their issues, Grant said, “I need to get to work. We’ll talk tonight.” Grant turned to walk away, but he was pulled up short by a strong hand on his arm.

  Spinning around, he came face-to-face with Lane.

  “Don’t walk away,” Lane ground out. “Tell me. Right here. Right now.”

  “Tell you what?” Grant asked, trying to keep his voice low. “Tell you that you and Gracie are more important? Is that what you wanna hear?” Lane didn’t respond, but he didn’t look at all convinced. “Damn it, Lane. I fuckin’ care. Is that what you wanna hear?” Grant knew his voice was getting louder, and he feared he was about to come out of the closet with the entire ranch looking on.

  “Yes,” Lane replied, the muscle in his jaw bunching as though he were trying to refrain from saying too much.

  Grant knew just what Lane was feeling, because as much as he wanted to announce to the entire ranch that he was in love with Gracie and Lane, he just couldn’t do it. Even though he had Jerry’s blessing, he still couldn’t get the words out.

  “So you didn’t give your father money?” Lane asked.

  Grant’s brow furrowed as he desperately tried to remember what they were talking about. How had this conversation gone from feelings to money?

  “No,” he finally said, some of his anger dissipating. “I didn’t give him anything yet. I told him I’d talk to him later.”

  Lane took a step closer. He was now standing so close that their chests nearly touched, and the brim of their hats rubbed once. “Don’t give him money. You hear me?”

  “I don’t have much of a choice,” Grant rebutted.

  “You’re the only one with a choice,” Lane said through clenched teeth. “We’ll work this out. Understand me? We. As in you, me, and Gracie. Don’t go off half-cocked thinkin’ you can make this better. The only way to fix this is to man up.”

  And with that, Lane turned and walked away.

  Grant stared after him, feeling chastised by the man he loved. It was the second time in less than an hour that someone had told him to man up.

  And if Grant hadn’t been angry before … well, he was now.

  ■□■□■□■□

  It took every ounce of willpower Lane possessed just to walk away from Grant. But even he knew this wasn’t the time or place to get in a knock-down-drag-out with the ranch foreman, especially when this was personal. So after giving Grant his final two cents, Lane made a beeline for the arena, glaring at every wrangler who dared look his way.

  Busying himself for the next two hours wasn’t difficult because his frustration fueled him, and before he knew it, the arena was all decked out, ready for the dance that would bring the guests flurrying to one place.

  Lane happened to enjoy the dances that they put on. Used to be that he enjoyed them because it was his only chance to get close to Gracie, something he’d been trying to do for the last two years. Since his arms ached to hold her again, he was actually quite ready for the party to start, but there were still hours to go until that happened. Which meant Lane needed to get some other things done in order to keep his mind off her and Grant.

  As he made his way to his truck, trying to prioritize what he needed to accomplish for the day, he thought
back to the last bit of the conversation between Grant and Jerry.

  I’m not gonna lie to you and tell you that I understand what’s goin’ on with you and Gracie … and … and Lane. I’m not sure I want to know. But I will tell you that Gracie came to me because she’s scared. And that’s on you, son. You’re the one who has to figure out how to protect her from that fear. Do you think you can do that?

  Gracie had actually approached her father to inform him of her relationship with the two of them. And truth be told, Lane was pretty sure that her going to her father meant more to him than if she’d blurted out her love for him.

  Maybe.

  He still longed to hear the words, desperate to watch them roll off Gracie’s tongue. His heart needed to hear them. There was an actual physical ache in the center of his chest, and he feared that the only thing that could relieve it was the three little words that he had yet to hear from Grant or Gracie.

  But this was close to being better than that. They no longer had to hide from Jerry… Not that he really knew what that meant yet. They still had the rest of the wranglers to contend with. Lane didn’t have any idea what they were going to say or do when they found out that Lane and Grant were together, much less that they were with Gracie as well. It was complicated, but for Lane, it just felt right.

  “Hey, man, you okay?”

  Lane spun around to see Grant standing behind him. “Great. Why?”

  “Just makin’ sure,” Grant replied, his eyes narrowing as though he didn’t believe Lane.

  Since Lane hadn’t sounded all that convincing, it made sense that Grant was questioning him.

  “Would you … uh… Would you want to have dinner tonight? Before the dance?”

  Lane was tempted to stick his fingers in his ears and wiggle them, just to make sure he wasn’t hearing things. Had Grant really just invited him to dinner? Tonight?

  “Yeah,” he said frankly. “I would.”

  His response must’ve been the right answer because Grant smiled, and Lane’s chest thumped painfully hard. “Good. That’s … good. I’ll meet you at the dining hall?”

  Lane nodded as he planned out his evening in his head. Shower, dinner, dancing, Gracie, and Grant. Yep, tonight was going to be significantly better than last night.

  At least he hoped so anyway.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Saturday evening

  “This place looks amazing,” Trinity said when Grace made her way across the wooden dance floor that had been set up in the main arena. Trin, Mercy, Faith, and Hope were all huddled in one area, looking like teenage girls on prom night, waiting for someone to ask them to dance.

  “It’s pretty impressive, huh?” Grace hadn’t seen the arena look quite like this before. Each time they put on a dance, which had been almost once a month for the last two years, the amount of décor seemed to increase. Grace could still remember the first dance they’d put on. It had been held in the rec room of the main house with an iPod hooked up to a set of speakers, and they’d learned instantly that the place wasn’t nearly big enough for the sheer volume of people who attended, most of whom were actual employees of Dead Heat Ranch and their significant others.

  Hope had been the one to suggest using the arena, and then some skilled cowboys had come up with the idea of designing a wood floor that could be placed over the soft dirt that covered the arena floor. From there, additional things had been added, including an upgraded sound system, then a DJ, a disco ball, additional hanging lanterns… The list went on and on, and now, the place looked like a dance hall, and from what Grace could tell, all of the guests were present and accounted for.

  “Oh, good Lord, hide me, please,” Mercy whispered as she ducked behind Grace and Trinity.

  “Who’re you hidin’ from?” Trin asked, trying to move away only to be pulled back by Mercy, who had wrapped her arms around her.

  “The booby triplets,” Mercy said in a hushed tone. “They are drivin’ me absolutely batshit crazy.”

  Grace searched the room for the booby triplets, as Mercy had referred to them, and it didn’t take long for her to find them. Sure enough, there were three women, all decked out in their fanciest rhinestone-crusted halter tops and skin-tight jeans. Their boots had heels, and Grace was tempted to laugh, but she managed to refrain. They were guests at the ranch, after all.

  But, in Mercy’s defense, her description wasn’t too far off. There were three of them, of course. A blond, brunette, and what appeared to be a fake redhead who did look … uh … surgically enhanced. Anyway … the three women were prancing around the edge of the bleachers, chatting it up with a handful of wranglers who were standing around chugging beer like it was water. Free beer always tasted that much better, in Grace’s personal opinion.

  And, yes, as was usual for pretty women who came to the ranch, these three had certainly garnered the attention of a few of the single men.

  “What’s wrong with them?” Hope asked as she stepped up to Grace’s side. “They don’t look all that scary to me.”

  “Oh, please. You haven’t had to cater to their every whim for the last two days.”

  “How hard could that possibly be?” Faith interjected. “From what I saw, they’ve spent their days in the pool. So, what? You had to bring them suntan lotion?”

  “No, uh-uh. That’s not in my job description,” Mercy murmured. “Anyway, they had plenty of help in that area. Shit, Hal and Cal were more than willing to ensure they weren’t in any danger of gettin’ burned.”

  Hal and Cal were two of the tenured wranglers. To this day, Grace still had no idea what their full names were. What she knew was that they were fraternal twins, both in their early forties, who’d been a part of the ranch for roughly twenty-five years. They were two of the few wranglers who’d actually been on the ranch long enough to remember Grace’s mother.

  “So why’re you hidin’?” Hope asked. “They don’t look interested in you or what you’re doin’.”

  “Just wait. Someone” — Mercy glared at the back of Trin’s head — “gave them the impression that I’m their freakin’ servant.”

  Grace laughed right along with her sisters, offering Trin a knuckle-bump for her good work. They had to get back at Mercy somehow, and Grace would be the first to admit they pulled out all the stops whenever possible.

  “Where’re your guests?” Mercy asked, still bobbing and weaving behind them.

  “Ben and Maddie?” Grace asked, glancing over at Hope. “Don’t know. Have you seen them?”

  Hope had the audacity to glare at Grace as though she hadn’t been spending a little extra time with Ben in recent days. Maybe Grace wasn’t up to speed on everything that went on at the ranch at all times the way Mercy was, but she definitely knew when her guests were being given a personal tour by one of her sisters.

  “He said he’d be here later,” Hope admitted, pulling her gaze from Grace’s.

  “Well, I’m guestless this week,” Faith told them.

  “Lucky you. Want to take on the big boob trio? They’re yours if you want ’em. Last night, they asked me to shine their freakin’ boots.”

  Grace glanced down at her own boots and smiled. They weren’t the ones she wore to work, but they certainly weren’t fancy. With the chiffon sundress she’d chosen, they actually looked nice, or so she thought. She laughed, thinking about what it would look like if she shined her boots.

  “Nope, they’re yours. It’s your punishment,” Trin inserted. “For everything you’ve done to us, you get to handle the big boob trio all by your lonesome.”

  Mercy grumbled something, but Grace couldn’t make out what it was.

  “Hey, is that…”

  Grace peered over her shoulder at Trin to see which direction she was looking. Following her gaze, she saw… “Yep. That looks like Zach and Jenn. And they’re dancin’.”

  A loud whistle pierced the air — Mercy, no doubt.

  “They make a cute couple,” Hope added, surprising them all with her
assessment.

  They did make a cute couple, actually.

  But her attention was snagged from the dancers instantly, and the sound of her sisters chattering around her became background noise. She was having a hard time hearing over the sudden roar of blood in her veins. As she watched Grant approach from across the arena, her heart kicked into overdrive. He looked so handsome with his starched white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to show off his thick, tan forearms. He was wearing his nice straw Stetson, and although she preferred the black one, she knew it was too hot for that.

  “Care to dance?” he asked when he made his way to her.

  Grace felt like a teenage girl at prom, suddenly shocked that one of the popular boys actually wanted to dance with her.

  Before she could answer, she was firmly nudged from behind, followed by, “Get out there,” from Mercy, no less.

  “I’d love to,” she said when she finally found her voice.

  Grant’s answering smile stole her breath, and if it hadn’t been for the fact he was leading her out to the center of the arena, she figured she would’ve been a puddle of goo on the floor for all the strength she had in her limbs.

  A slow song came on right then, almost as though Grant had planned it, and Grace looked up into his face, trying to see if he was smiling. There was a smile there, definitely, but it didn’t appear mischievous at all. No, this was one of those sweet smiles, one that made it all the way to his eyes.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi back,” she said, lacing her fingers with his while sliding one hand around behind him. She felt the tense muscles there, and she did her best not to feel him up in front of all these people. “We’ve never danced before,” she added suddenly.

  “No, we haven’t.”

  Grace had spent the better part of the day wanting to talk to Lane and Grant, to let them know that she had gone to her father and spilled the beans, but too many things had happened, and she’d lost the chance. And then Grant had invited her to dinner, which she’d had to decline because Trin and Faith had needed her for adding the last touches to tonight’s event. But now, here they were, two-stepping around the dance floor with several other couples, and Grant was looking at her as though she was the most important person in the world to him.