by Jodi Vaughn
Grace lifted the singing kettle off the stove and poured the boiling water into her tea cup. She dunked the tea bag and then let it steep. Wrapping her hands around the chipped tea cup, she tucked her feet underneath her on the living room sofa.
She mentally calculated the dwindling funds in her safe deposit box. It wouldn’t last her very long. She opened up the newspaper that she’d picked up on her way out of town and skimmed the want ads. Maybe Gene would hire her to sell peanuts.
There was a knock at her front door and she hurried to answer it.
“What are you doing here? I thought you had to work the rest of the day?” She moved to the side as Sloan walked through the door wearing jeans, T-shirt, and a tool belt. “Tell me you didn’t get fired, too?” Her stomach dropped.
He took her face between his hands. “I didn’t get fired.” He kissed her fully on the mouth.
“So what’s with the tool belt?”
“I got off early so I could help you get a job.”
“I’m ahead of you. I already picked up the want ads.” She waved the paper in the air.
He took the paper and tossed it on her foyer table. “You don’t need that. You already have a job. You’re a dance teacher.”
Her heart ached. “Not any more. All of the moms left messages saying that I would no longer be teaching the dance team.” It hurt thinking that she wouldn’t get to see her girls anymore. She’d miss that more than she’d miss the money.
He laughed. “You don’t understand. Wait here.” Sloan went out the door and returned with an industrial sized sander.
“What’s that for? Are you going to teach me how to be a janitor? Oh, wait I’m not allowed on school property.”
“I am going to refinish your wood floors so you can give private lessons. Ballet lessons.”
Her mouth dropped opened. “What?”
He walked into the empty dining room and looked around. “I already talked to a couple of moms who are interested in ballet lessons for their daughters.” He held his hands up. “I have to warn you, there is more of an age difference than what you’re used to.”
“You did that for me?” Her breath caught in her throat.
“I’d do anything for you.” He pulled her into his chest and kissed her gently.
She melted against him.
“We should get started. This may take a while.”
For the next few days, they worked on the floors until they were finished. Sloan got busy installing a ballet barre along the wall. When he was finished, he brought in a large mirror and propped it up against the wall.
“We can get mirrors fitted for the wall later. You just need something to make do right now.” He turned on the light, illuminating the room against the darkness. “Oh, and I fixed your loose board on your front porch.”
She swallowed as her throat tightened. The doubts began to flood her brain. What if they had done all this for nothing?
Sloan went into the kitchen and returned with two wine glasses and a bottle of white wine. He handed her a glass and filled them both.
“I can’t believe we did this.” She couldn’t take her eyes off her beautiful new dance room. “It’s better than what I imagined it could be.”
She took a drink of the crisp wine and sighed. “I just hope we haven’t done all this for nothing.”
Someone knocked on her door. “Did Allison say she was coming over?” She set her glass down on the foyer table and opened the door.
Three women with three little girls in tow stood on the other side.
“Can I help you?”
“You’re Grace Witherspoon, right?” A young blonde woman asked.
“Yes.”
“So we’re in the right place.” A woman with long red hair smiled. “We’re here to sign our daughters up for ballet lessons.”
Grace’s mouth dropped open. “You are?”
“Sloan told us your studio would be ready today so we could come by and sign up, while you still had available spots.” The young blonde smiled.
“She has some available spots.” Sloan walked up next to her. Tenderness swelled her heart at Sloan’s thoughtfulness. He’d gone beyond her expectations to help her. No wonder she loved him so much.
She cleared her throat. “We just finished the room. Would you like to come in and see it?”
“We’d love to.” The mothers walked in with their three little girls. One little girl with long blonde hair and a large flower barrette in her hair stopped in front of Grace.
Grace knelt. “Hi, I’m Grace. What’s your name?”
“Mary Catherine.” She twisted a piece of hair on her finger. “I want to be a dancer.”
“Then you’re in the right place. I can help make that happen.” Grace stood as the little girl scampered away to see the new dance studio.
Sloan wrapped his hands around her from behind and whispered in her ear. “See, Grace. The town loves you. You just have to let us in.”
She blinked away the tears and composed herself.
After signing up her three new students, four more mothers called and asked for dance lessons as well.
“I can’t believe it.” She shook her head.
“I had faith in you.” Sloan touched the tip of her nose.
She shook her head and let out a laugh. “You seemed to know I was stronger than I thought.”
“I don’t know about that. You seemed to find your strength and stand up to Chris.” His eyes hardened.
“How’s he doing?”
“He’s out of the hospital and out on bail with a broken nose and a bruised ego. Mitch said Chris is going around town telling everyone I beat him up for no reason.”
Her head jerked up. “That lying asshole.”
Sloan grinned and pulled her into his chest. “Can’t argue with you there.”
She looked up into his gaze. “Aren’t you worried about his father pressing charges? I mean, you could lose your job over this.”
He snorted. “He’s full of shit. The charges won’t stick.”
“What if they do, Sloan?” She knew from experience that evil always won. Surely he couldn’t be this naïve.
He cupped her face. “If I get fired over a lie, then that’s not the place I want to work.” He kissed her.
“Aren’t you worried?”
“No. You’re worrying enough for the two of us.” He kissed her until she couldn’t think straight. “Come on. I know what you need.” He took her hand and led her into the bedroom.
She grinned. “And what exactly do you think I need?”
He turned her around, pressing her back against this chest. “You need to relax.”
His fingers lifted her shirt up over her head. Her heart thumped in her chest as he caressed her breasts through her lacy bra. His hands slipped lower to the waistband of her jeans. He unzipped and slid her jeans down to her ankles. She kicked them off to the side and tried to turn around to face him, but he held her prisoner in his arms.
He moved her hair off her shoulder and kissed her in that sensitive spot on her neck. Shivers raced across her skin and she moaned softly.
“I love you like this, soft, pliable in my hands.” His hand cupped her breast, while he rolled her nipple between his skilled fingers.
Her hand went behind her back to his crotch. She caressed him through his jeans.
“Easy, Grace.” He pulled her hand away.
“I want to touch you.” She moaned as his free hand slid down her stomach.
“Not yet. This is just for you.”
His fingers dipped beneath the lace panties and into her wetness. “Yes.” She held his hand in place while he caressed her.
“Sloan.”
“Let go, Grace. I want to feel you tightened around me.” He kept up his torturous caresses until she was exploding into a million pieces.
He turned her around and slammed his mouth down across her. Still breathless from her orgasm, her body came alive under his demanding tongue. Her fingers
found the edge of his T-shirt and lifted. He pulled away long enough to lose the shirt and pants. He quickly divested her of the panties and bra.
He held her close, kissing her with such love it brought tears to her eyes. He nudged her closer to the bed and they lay back together. He pulled her over on top of him.
“I need you now.” Breathless, she guided him into her heat. With one thrust he was deep inside her, filling her completely.
He moved slowly at first, dragging out her want and need until she was digging her nails into his back. He picked up his thrusting faster until they were both tumbling over the edge of their orgasm.
Afterwards, she lay across his chest while he held her close.
“I love you,” she whispered across his skin.
He stilled, his muscles tensing under her body. She slowly lifted her head to meet his gaze.
“I love you,” she repeated.
He grinned, his face lighting up with joy. “I love you, too.”
She cleared her throat, ready to spill her sordid past to him. Her throat tightened with fear and she kissed him instead.
“Do you know what I’m going to do?” He brushed the hair away from her eyes.
“What?” she breathed.
“I’m going to make love to you all night long.”
***
The cell phone chirped and vibrated. Sloan blinked his eyes open and slapped his hand across the nightstand trying to locate the blasted thing.
His hand made contact and he snatched the phone up.
Seven o’clock. The number was the police department.
It was his day off. Why would work be calling this early on his day off?
“Hello?”
“Sloan. You need to get down to the police station right away.” The police chief’s voice held an edge of uncertainty.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“A lot.”
“All right. I’m at Grace’s . . .”
“Bring her too.”
“Is this about the case against Chris Meadowbrook?”
“Yes and no. Just get to the station ASAP.”
***
“I don’t understand. What’s this all about?” Grace wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans.
“I guess we’ll find out once we walk in.” He gave her a reassuring smile and laced his fingers through hers.
They walked through the front door. Grace froze. It looked like the whole town was crammed into the police station, all trying to talk at once. She met Felicia’s gaze.
Felicia’s eyes widened. A slow smirk spread across her mouth.
Grace’s heart stuttered in her chest. Something wasn’t right.
“All right, all right. Everyone simmer down.” The police chief yelled through the bullhorn he snatched off the receptionist’s desk. Everyone covered their ears and cringed. He lowered the bullhorn and cleared his throat.
“Listen up, people. This doesn’t involve the whole town so everyone needs to get on home.” The police chief motioned for everyone to leave.
“It most certainly does involve our town. That’s why I told everyone to come today.” Felicia shot him a glare.
Chief pinched the bridge of his nose and sucked in a deep breath.
“You see, we have a criminal living among us,” Felicia yelled.
Everyone gasped and looked at each other. Grace’s stomach hit the floor. The coffee that Sloan had made was threatening to come right back up.
“And she is right there.” Felicia pointed her perfectly manicured finger at Grace.
Grace couldn’t breathe as the blood drained from her face.
“Felicia, shut up. No one wants to hear your lies.” Sloan took a step forward. Grace couldn’t move, her limbs were like concrete.
“It’s not a lie. See?” She held out a pamphlet.
Grace’s heart stopped as she recognized the familiar piece of paper. It was a pamphlet from the New York Ballet.
“I brought this back from one of my trips to New York. It’s a pamphlet from one of the ballets I watched. And it has a Miss Jennifer Montclair as one of the dancers.”
Grace’s head felt light and she swayed against Sloan. He wrapped his hand around her to steady her. “Are you all right?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out.
“You see, our Grace Witherspoon is not who she says she is. Her name is not even Grace Witherspoon. It’s Jennifer Montclair.” She stared at Grace. “Isn’t that right?”
Everyone turned their accusing eyes on Grace.
“I also took the liberty to do a little digging to see why someone would change her name. As it turns out, Grace, I mean Jennifer faked her own death.”
“Grace?” Sloan’s hand slid away from her and he took a step back. “Tell her that’s not true.”
She met his gaze. “I can’t.”
The crowd erupted. The chief grabbed the bullhorn and tried to calm everyone down to no avail.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you come to me for help?” Sloan’s hand dropped from her waist. He stared down at her with hardened eyes.
“I couldn’t. I was scared.” She tried to swallow, but her mouth tasted like ashes.
“I’m a cop, remember? My job is protecting people.” His gaze bore into her soul.
“I realize that. But it goes deeper.”
He took a step back. “I’ll say. You just don’t trust me.”
“I don’t trust anyone.” Her voice wavered.
“I see that.” He shook his head, hurt etched across his handsome face. “I’m a fool. I guess what we had wasn’t real.”
She couldn’t move. She felt dead inside. She didn’t care that the entire town hated her, that didn’t’ matter. What mattered was she just lost Sloan.
“Miss Witherspoon, err Montclair, whoever you are.” The chief laid his hand on her shoulder. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you some questions.”
“I know.” She swallowed and looked into Sloan’s hurt-filled eyes.
“I think it’s safe to say you’re not to leave town until we straighten this out.”
She met his gaze. “Where would I go?”
***
“Sloan!” Allison grabbed his arm, as he opened his truck door. “Wait a minute.”
“Not now, Allie.” His stomach was in knots and his heart felt like it had been shattered into a million pieces.
“Don’t do this. Don’t let Grace get away.”
“I don’t think she’s allowed to leave town. She’s under investigation.”
Allison narrowed her eyes on him. “That’s a dick thing to say. “
Sloan glared. “Stay out of this.”
“Don’t let the best thing you’ve ever had get away.”
He laughed. “Are you joking? She’s the same as Felicia. She lied to me. She knew I was a cop and knew I had a commitment to uphold the law and she still lied to me.”
“If Grace lied, then she had a good reason for it.” Allison pointed her finger in his chest. “And if you are stupid enough to let her get away without hearing her out, then it’s your loss.”
He gritted his teeth. “Since you’re team Grace why don’t you stick around and give her a ride?” He slid into his truck and slammed the door.
“I will!” Allison screamed and marched into the police station.
***
“I don’t know if you should go, honey.” Tabitha flung herself across Grace’s bed. “There might be torches and pitchforks. You never know with these crazy country people.”
Allison had given Grace a ride home after she’d talked to the police chief. The only other police officer that was in that meeting was Mitch. They’d listened to what she’d said and told her to go home. They reminded her not to leave town.
Tabitha had arrived a few hours later with wine and margaritas. As much as grace wanted to drink herself into oblivion, her stomach couldn’t take it. She’d managed half a margarita before she’d thrown u
p.
Her friends had stayed with her, comforting her and encouraging her to call Sloan. Not once had they asked why she’d faked her death, even though Grace knew Tabitha was dying to find out. Every time Allison left the room she shot Tabitha a warning look not to pry.
They didn’t need to ask. They would all find out soon enough. After she had talked to the police chief and Mitch, she’d asked if they would call some kind of town meeting.
In a few short hours everyone would know her past.
“I think she should go. Give her side of the story.” Allison patted her arm and smiled.
“I’m going. Although I’m not sure if the right people will be there.”
“Don’t worry. I called Mitch and told him to make sure to get Sloan to the meeting.” Allison squeezed her arm.
“Thanks.” Grace blinked back the tears and turned away. “He’s not answered any of my calls. I don’t even know if what I have to say will change his mind.”
“Well, if he doesn’t, I’m going to kick him in the balls for being a dickhead.” Tabitha downed the rest of the wine.
“We should probably be leaving. The meeting starts soon.” Allison grabbed Grace’s bag and handed it to her.
“I can’t believe you’re being so nice to me after I lied to you and to your brother.”
“Honey, we all make mistakes. Besides I have a hunch about people. You’re still good people to me Grace.” Allison smiled.
Grace pulled her friend into a hug. “Let’s get going.”
Tabitha held up her bottle of wine. “Hey, do you think it will be okay if I take this?”
Chapter Ten
Grace clutched her hands together as she sat in the front row of the meeting in the First Baptist Church of Cloverton. It was the only place large enough to seat the majority of the town, and it was standing room only.
Tabitha and Allison had made Grace sit between them so they could act as a buffer. Despite that, she still heard all the whispers from the crowd.
Tabitha leaned across Grace. “Hey, Allison. Hold my cup while I pour my wine out of my purse.”
Allison pursed her lips. “Are you crazy? You’re in church.”
“So?” Tabitha tried handing her the cup again.
“So? You can’t drink in church,” Allison hissed.
