by Robyn Grady
“Is there still a battery of security guards around the place?” Wynn asked.
“Twenty-four seven.”
“And Tate?”
“When Tate begged to stay with his parents a bit longer, Dex and Shelby stayed on, too. Tate knows his parents are either avoiding each other or quarrelling. We all try to shelter him from it as much as we can, but Eloise isn’t good with conflict.”
Cole was being kind there.
Wynn was concerned about Tate coping with this situation, but none of this could be good for that baby—his half sister—either.
Wynn loosened his tie. Thank God he’d never have to go through anything like this. This whole situation sucked so bad, discussing it made him feel physically ill.
“I have something to ask,” Cole said.
“Anything.”
“Could you have Tate come for Christmas?”
Wynn blinked several times. “Where exactly is this coming from? How’s Tate going to take that?”
“Tate’s the one asking.”
“And he asked to stay with me? Not Dex or Teagan or you?”
“He must want to spread the love. Or maybe he feels particularly safe with you. The way you rescued him that day—”
“He doesn’t remember that.”
“Maybe he does.” Cole took a breath. “Can I put him on a flight next week?”
“Of course.” If that’s what Tate really wants. “Let me know the details when they’re locked in.” Dates, times, and obviously Tate would need a chaperone on the flight.
There were two beats of silence before Cole asked, “How’s Grace?”
Wynn explained yesterday’s conversation—how she wanted to end it and how he had complied.
Cole grunted. “How do you feel about that?”
“I feel...well, pretty crappy about it, actually.”
“Because?”
He needed to ask? “Because we had a good time together.”
“And?”
“And, I like her. But, Cole, she’s right. We had an arrangement.”
“What’s that?”
Wynn hesitated a moment and then spilled it all—about Grace’s ex, his proposal, the accident and how she wasn’t interested in getting serious with anyone right now.
“What about you?” Cole asked.
“Of course, I was on board.”
“Because of your bust-up with Heather.”
Wynn ran his fingers through his hair. This wasn’t rocket science. “Yes, because of my bust-up. I planned to marry the woman.”
“Now you plan to stay single.”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“And you told Grace that.”
Wynn narrowed his eyes. “I told her. But you’re missing the point. Cole, she was the one who wanted to end it.”
“Smart girl.”
Wynn cocked a brow. “I think I should feel insulted.”
“Ask yourself something, and answer it truthfully. Are you falling in love with Grace Munroe?”
Wynn opened his mouth and then shut it again before he decided on a defense. “Just because you’re happily married now—”
“Wynn, it doesn’t have to be Grace, but I’d hate to see you lose someone meant for you because you’re too damn stubborn and stuck to see what’s right in front of your nose.”
When they disconnected, Wynn was hot around the gills. Cole didn’t understand. Wynn didn’t need anyone second-guessing his life, his decisions, or telling him what he should or should not feel.
Five minutes on, Wynn had cooled down, not that it made him feel any better. His relationship with his father had been resurrected. The merger deal would go through. And yet, with all that he had...irrespective of all that “being right”...none of it seemed to matter alongside one simple, complicated truth.
He’d lost Grace.
Fifteen
A few days after Grace had flown down to Florida to resign her position, she was back in New York for the holidays. Back in New York to stay, although she had yet to find a place of her own. Not that Wynn could know any of that.
When he sent a text to say his little brother was visiting for the holidays, naturally Grace was curious. Were Guthrie, Eloise and the baby here in the States, too? She doubted it. She’d responded, How cool! Tate would always have a very special place in her heart. Then a second text had mentioned that Tate loved to visit Rockefeller Center—every day at around two.
She knew she probably shouldn’t. But she decided to go anyway.
Five minutes ago, she’d arrived at the Center and immediately spotted her boys. Dressed for chilly weather, the Hunter brothers were checking out skaters, laughing whenever Santa slid around with a conga line of kids hanging off the back of his red suit. The giant tree towered over the crowd, rewarding everyone with glowing, festive thoughts. Like streams of sparkling atoms filling the air, on Christmas Eve, magic seemed to be everywhere.
As if he sensed her nearby, Wynn pulled up tall and scanned the crowd. When their gazes connected, a spark zapped all the way up her spine. His expression shut down before a smile tugged the corners of his beautiful mouth.
He didn’t call her over. Rather he simply waited, drinking her in as if he worried that, should he look away, she might disappear. Then Tate tugged his brother’s windbreaker and his little red beanie tipped back. Wynn crouched down.
Tate seemed to know that his big brother was distracted. When he spotted her, Tate jumped into the air, so high she thought his feet must have grown springs. Wynn placed a hand on his shoulder, but Tate refused to calm down. Grace heard his squeals for her to join them.
He was such a good kid, going through such a hard time. His family might have wealth but, no doubt, he would trade everything, and in a heartbeat, for a safe and settled home.
As she came closer, Tate broke away. In a bright blue parka and boots, he scampered up and flung his arms around her hips.
“This is a really big city,” Tate said, still hugging her tight. “You found us anyway.” He pulled back and looked up with the familiar tawny-colored eyes that stole her heart away. “The Empire State Building has a hundred and two stories.”
She laughed. “Pretty high, huh?”
“Didja see the snowman in that window?” He pointed toward the avenue before he flapped his arms against his thighs and shrugged. “Santa’s coming tonight. We need to finish the tree.”
Wynn had strolled up. “And we need to get to bed before those reindeer swing their bells on into New York.”
Grace’s stomach fluttered at the sound of his voice—the white flash of his smile. She had to dig her hands deeper into her pockets to stop them from reaching out.
“Mommy takes my picture when I put cookies out for Santa, but Wynn’s gonna do it this year.”
When Tate took his brother’s leather-gloved hand, the picture, its setting, just seemed to fit.
Grace schooled her features. She was getting misty, damn it.
“Not going to that masquerade ball?” she asked Wynn.
“They have my donation.” He winked at his little brother. “Tate and I have important things to do.”
Tate gave a big nod. “Can Grace come over?”
Wynn arched a brow. “I think she already has plans.”
“I’m staying with my parents,” she told Tate. “My sisters will be there tonight. My niece, too. April’s almost your age.”
Tate’s mouth hooked to one side, not in a happy way. “A girl?”
“Like Honey,” Wynn said, “only older.” Then he checked out the sky, which was heavy with the promise of snow. “We were getting ready to go for a hot chocolate—”
“Oh, sure,” she slipped in. “I won’t hold you up.”
“I like mine with marshmallows on top,” Tate said. “Wynn likes chocolate curls.”
Grace jerked a thumb toward the street. “I really have to go. But I have something for you, Tate.” She drew a wrapped gift from beneath her coat. Accepting it, Tate looked to Wynn. “He can open it now,” she said.
Tate peeled the wrapping and eased out the gift. His legs seemed to buckle before he whooped with delight.
“A Yankees triceratops! His horn goes right through the cap!” Tate gave her an earnest look. “Santa can’t beat this.”
Grace held her throat. Her heart felt so full and at the same time so empty. She wished she could stay longer. But a fast, clean break would be best.
“After the holidays, Wynn’s gonna take me to his office.” Tate tugged his brother’s coat. “Can I go see the skaters?”
“Sure, pal.” When Tate was out of earshot, Wynn stepped closer. His gaze swept over her face, lingered on her lips.
“You look great,” he said.
“You look—relaxed. Did your father come out with Tate?”
“Cole chaperoned him over on the flight. Tate had asked if he could come out.”
Wynn didn’t need to explain more. Grace thought she understood.
“Dad let me know he was okay with the merger going through,” he went on.
“Wow. That’s great. Congratulations.”
“He and Eloise are trying to work things out.”
She eased out a grateful breath. “I’ll pray that they do.”
He looked back at Tate standing a short distance away, checking out Santa, who was performing one very fine axel jump.
“It’s good having Tate over,” he said, “even if the circumstances aren’t the best.”
“Any progress on who was behind that explosion?”
“Not yet. But I’m sure they’ll find something soon.” He adjusted one leather glove then the other. “Dex and Shelby are flying over tomorrow afternoon. They’re staying with her father in Oklahoma tonight. In fact, Mr. Scott is flying out here with them.”
“A real family affair.”
“He and Tate got to be chums when Dex took him out there for a stay.”
“What are Cole and Taryn doing tomorrow?”
“Visiting Dad and the new baby. And Eloise, I suppose.”
Awkward. “And Teagan? Is she flying out to be with Tate, too?”
“She says she isn’t. When I spoke to her, I got the feeling it might have something to do with a man.”
The man who wanted a big family? “Did she sound okay?”
“She sounded preoccupied.”
As soon as she left here, Grace decided, she’d phone Teagan. She hoped her friend hadn’t broken up with the guy she’d been seeing. If he was in love with her, and Teagan felt the same way, there had to be a way to sort everything out.
“I was wondering,” Wynn said, crossing his arms, “whether you might like to come over tomorrow, too. I know you’d have all the traditional stuff in the morning with your family. And lunch. But if you’re free for dinner, Tate would love to have you over. Dex and Shelby, too.”
As he made the invitation, the ache in Grace’s throat grew and grew. But she’d been prepared for something like this. Wynn didn’t give in easily. Neither did she.
Over these past few days, with being away from Wynn and missing him so much, she’d come to a solid conclusion. She loved this man. Loved most everything about him. But she wasn’t about to do anything foolish like admit it and set herself up for a gigantic fall. She’d seen firsthand how a move like that could destroy a person.
“Thanks for the invite,” she said, proud of herself for holding his gaze. “But I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“No. It’s fine. I’m sorry. Just had to ask. You know. For Tate.”
Tate was gazing up at the big tree in wonder, holding his new dinosaur under his arm. So cute and innocent.
She swallowed.
God, her throat was tight. Clogged.
She really had to go.
“I’ll just say goodbye,” she said.
Wynn tried to smile. “You’ve only been here a minute.”
She began to skirt her way around him.
“Stay a little longer,” he said.
“I have to go.”
“Grace.” He caught her arm and her eyes finally locked with his. A soft smile touched the corners of his mouth. “Grace. I don’t want to lose you.”
She held her stomach. How blunt did she need to be? “Wynn, you don’t want what I want.”
“I want you.”
“And I want love.”
Her heart was thumping in her ears. She felt weak and emotional and, hell, it was true. And now, in a single heartbeat, it was out.
She watched understanding sink in and then resistance darken his eyes. Meanwhile, Tate had run back and was tugging on his big brother’s coat again.
“Wynn, where’s the hot chocolate shop? I’m cold.”
Grace crouched down. She prayed Tate didn’t see that she was trembling or that tears edged her eyes.
“You’ll have a great Christmas with everyone, won’t you, hon?”
“Are you gonna come, too?” Tate asked.
“Afraid not,” she said.
Tate studied the Yankees dinosaur she’d given him. “Well,” he said, “maybe next time.”
When she looked up at Wynn, he was taking Tate’s hand.
“Come on, buddy,” he said. “Don’t want that hot chocolate going cold.”
They started off and then Wynn stopped, turned back around.
“Have a good day tomorrow, Grace,” he said.
Forcing a smile, she nodded but couldn’t say the words.
Merry Christmas.
Happy New Year.
* * *
It was past eight that night when Grace edged inside the room her niece used whenever she stayed at Grandma and Grandpa’s. The night-light was on, casting stars around the ceiling and walls.
“Is she asleep?” she whispered.
With a children’s Christmas book closed on her lap, Rochelle had been gazing at her daughter.
“I thought I’d need to read ’Twas the Night Before Christmas at least twice through.” Rochelle eased to her feet. “April was counting sugar plums after the third verse.” Crossing over, Rochelle saw the notebook Grace held. “You’re working on exercises tonight?”
“Not the kind you think.”
The women tiptoed out of the room. Downstairs, their mother was finalizing tomorrow’s menu with Jenn. Dad would be reading in his chair. Tilly was out with friends, due home soon, or at least not late.
Grace led Rochelle into her room. The fire she’d lit earlier was crackling with low yellow flames while snow piled up on the windowpane outside. A gift she’d bought April that afternoon lay on the bed. When she and Rochelle sat on the quilt, Grace rapped her knuckles against the notebook’s cover.
“I had something I needed to work through,” Grace explained. “I thought writing it all down might help. It’s about Sam.” She bowed her head. “A year after the funeral, I still felt responsible.”
“Because you didn’t love him?”
“The night Sam died, he asked me to marry him.” Everyone knew that he had planned to sometime very soon. “Rochelle, I said no. I turned him away.”
Rochelle froze. “Okay, wait. You think he took his own life, or maybe he was so upset that he lost control of the vehicle?”
“Not anymore.” Wincing, Grace gripped the book. “I mean, I don’t know.”
“He’d just gotten off a long shift. It was deemed an accident.”
Grace finished for her. “Authorities surmised he’d fallen asleep at the wheel. But I couldn’t put
it to rest.”
“So you kept it bottled up inside of you all this time?” Rochelle’s hand covered hers. “Grace, you’re not responsible for what happened to Sam. Just like I’m not responsible for Trey’s actions.”
“Yeah. I know, but...”
“Sam was taken away from us too soon. We were all lucky to have known him. But you can’t change the past, and you can’t change how you feel. If Sam were here now, he’d want you to let it go and really get on with your life.”
Grace expelled a breath. Of course, Rochelle was right. Tonight, missing Wynn and wondering about the future, Grace had only needed to hear it, and from someone she trusted, despite any past sisterly spats.
That story finished, Grace slid the notebook into her bedside drawer and then eyed the velvet box containing April’s gift. “What time’s Trey collecting April tomorrow?”
“He isn’t. Says it’ll be too awkward for her.” Rochelle rolled her eyes. “Makes me all the more determined. This Christmas is going to be extra special—with plenty of family and love to go around. Every kid deserves that.”
Grace picked up April’s gift and flipped open the lid. A huge crystal ring shone out. “Think she’ll like it?”
“April?” Rochelle gave a low whistle. “Heck, I want it myself.”
Grace cut the paper while Rochelle ripped off some tape.
“Have you heard from Wynn?” Rochelle asked, pressing a glossy pink bow on top.
Grace had confided in Rochelle about that afternoon when she’d called after April’s allergy scare. She spilled all about her tormented feelings toward Wynn as well as her decision to stay clear. To protect her heart.
“I saw him today.” Grace set aside the wrapped gift. “His little brother’s out for the holidays.”
“I thought you said you two were through.”
“We are. But Tate asked to see me. After all that kid’s been through, I wasn’t going to stand him up.”
“Oh, Grace, are you sure you want to end it? You had such a great time in Australia.”
“Aside from the explosion.”
“Aside from that.” Rochelle leaned forward. “The way you feel about each other...the things he says and does...”
