by Ciana Stone
Ida reached out to take Grace’s hand. “There’s nothing I’d like more. And if you’re really serious, then I’m going to take advantage. I need to do some things in the greenhouse, so how about you hold down the fort here?”
“Okay, but I have to pick up the kids from school.”
“I’ll be back in plenty of time. If you have any questions just call. I’ll keep my phone on me.”
“Okay.”
They finished their sweet rolls, and then Ida washed out her mug and left. Grace wandered around the shop, touching things and remembering. She was so lost in thought she didn’t hear the door open, didn’t realize she wasn’t alone until she heard someone speak her name.
“Grace?”
Grace whirled around. When her eyes beheld the man standing inside the door, time seemed to stand still.
Beau Legacy.
It seemed like every bit of the air had suddenly been sucked out of the room because she was having a damn hard time drawing a breath. She’d secretly kept track of Beau online and had seen photos of him from time to time, but no photo could do justice to the real thing.
Why couldn’t he have gone bald? Lost his teeth or gained four hundred pounds. Why did he have to look like this?
He was tall, like all the Legacy men, and big-boned, but where his father John was a bear of a man, Beau was mountain lion with powerful but lean lines. His hair was fashionably cut and the suit he wore probably cost more than what most people make in several months, but boy did he wear it well.
Those smoky gray eyes were still rimmed with thick lashes so dark that as a teenager he’d been teased more than once about wearing eyeliner. The dark of the lashes and that gray color made his eyes so arresting it was hard not to stare.
Which was what she was doing. No, she was gawking. Like a love-struck teenager over her favorite movie idol. Yes, he did look that good. Oh god. How embarrassing.
“Beau. Hello.”
“Grace. You’re here.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
Well, there was a question she had no desire to answer. Fortunately, at that very moment her mother’s friend Mabelle Duke walked into the shop. “Well, as I live and breathe, Gracie Mae.”
“Hi, Mrs. Mabelle. How good to see you. Mama had some things to do in the greenhouse, so I’m minding the shop.”
“Oh, well, I guess that means you’re settling back in.”
“Well, I—I, oh I’m sorry Mrs. Maybelle, can you give me one second?” She turned her attention to Beau. “Can I do something for you, Beau?”
“No, I just stopped by to tell your mother that I’ll definitely be coming to dinner tonight and it’s my turn to provide the wine. Red or white?”
“Huh?” Grace’s mind suddenly refused to process coherently. Beau was coming to dinner?
“The wine. Red or white?”
“Oh, oh, I don’t know. Either. You choose.”
“Okay, then I guess I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Yes, see you then.”
She and Maybelle watched Beau leave, and then Irene smiled at her. “Well, well, looks like there’s still some sparks left from that old fire.”
“Oh, Mrs. Maybelle.” Grace waved her hand in dismissal and turned away, the excitement of the day now turning to dread.
Dinner with Beau? Oh, shoot me now.
Chapter Seven
Beau read the email for the third time. His focus was shot. Seeing Grace had thrown him for a loop. He’d expected—hell, he didn’t know what he’d expected. That she’d let herself go and was frumpy and unappealing?
That sure wasn’t the case. She didn’t look all that much older than she had the last time he’d seen her, which was the summer after her sophomore year in college, the weekend she got married. Her hair wasn’t quite as long. Now it hung just past her shoulders and the brown bore lighter highlights. She still appeared natural rather than made up, unless she was incredibly talented with makeup, and her figure still made his hands itch to touch her.
But it was her eyes that got to him; they were the oddest shade of green, very light, and decorated with the thickest and longest eyelashes he’d ever seen on a woman. When they were dating, they could sneak off to the lake for skinny-dipping, and she never had to fear being given away by mascara that had run because she never had to wear it.
Grace’s eyes. They’d looked into his soul, filled him with confidence when he needed it, compassion when he suffered, and love every time she gazed at him. Did she still have the ability to see inside him?
Maybe he should cancel dinner with Ida and her family. He didn’t imagine it would be all that comfortable trying to make small talk with Grace. Just as he reached for his phone, his office door opened and his soon to be sister-in-law Ily walked in.
“I need your help.”
“Okay.” Beau put his phone down. “What do you need?”
“John Luke said you’d been having dinner once a week with the lady who runs the apothecary store?”
“Ida Summerfield, yes. I’ve known her a long time and she’s now a widow with no family here. Well, she was—I mean, she didn’t have family here until recently—oh hell, that doesn’t matter. Yes, I have, why?”
Ily sat on the edge of a chair in front of the desk. It was clear from her posture and her voice that she was excited. “Did you meet Lucan, the Fae Council person for The Seven?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Well, I was talking with him about Michael Whitehorse, the Fae King who died, and Lucan said it has long been suspected that Michael worked with someone somewhere in Texas to develop that formula your mother used on all of you as well as a cloaking formula.”
“A cloaking—“ Beau rose and circled the desk to take a seat, then regarded her. “That sounds all science fiction. What exactly does this cloaking formula do and what does it have to do with Ida?”
“It’s actually a spell combined with a recipe of sorts, and it’s used to cloak a person or place—like a community or area from the Dark Fae.”
“Oh, okay, look, I know things are very different where you come from, but this is delving into fantasy land for me. It’s just not possible—“
“Yes, it is. Connor’s compound in Colorado is protected by it. We just can’t reverse-engineer the formula. But Lucan believes it was Grayson Summerfield who created the formula, and he also thinks Grayson knew or had a copy of the spell. We need to find that spell and to know the formula, so I thought since you’re friends with Mrs. Summerfield—“
“Hold on. You want me to ask Mrs. Ida if I can plunder her dead husband's belongings to try to find a magic potion? You do realize that will make me sound like a certified lunatic, right?”
“Well, what if she knows? From all accounts, she and Mr. Summerfield were inseparable since the day they met. He might have told her about it. Probably did, if they were the kind of people who didn’t believe in keeping secrets from one another so—“
“Wait, you think she knows about us—you—the Seven?”
“Us. You’re one of us too, Beau. You’re Kindred, even if that does bother you.”
“Yes, I’m aware, but that doesn’t mean I want her to know.”
“Her or her daughter?”
“Okay, that’s really none of your business.”
“Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that and I apologize. I’m just at my wit’s end on this, and this is the only lead I have. Look, if you don’t feel comfortable asking Mrs. Summerfield, maybe you could just make nice with her daughter and maybe—“
“No. I love you, Ily. You know that, but Grace and I—that’s a long story and a lot of history and pain and—and no, I’m sorry.”
“Please? I swear I wouldn’t ask if there was any other way.”
“There has to be.”
“Okay, how about this? Is there any way you could question Mrs. Summerfield to find out if she knows about us and the potion? Or just about us? If she does, then you don’t have to
tell her about you, but you could say you know one of the Seven and introduce her to me.”
Beau weakened. He loved Ily like a sister and hated saying no to her. “Well, I don’t know. I suppose I could try.”
“Oh, thank you!” Ily jumped up and pulled him to his feet for a tight hug.
Despite his size, her Scythian strength had him feeling a bit like prey in the grip of a giant constrictor. “Can’t breathe.”
“Oops, sorry. Got excited. Seriously, thank you for anything you can do. I owe you.”
“I haven’t done anything yet, but if I do, then hell yes, you do! Big time.”
“And I’ll pay, little brother. Gladly. Okay, I’m outta here. Love you.”
“Love you.” He watched her leave and then returned to his seat. Just how the hell was he going to get Mrs. Ida to talk about Fae and magic potions and her dead husband’s connection to both?
Moreover, how was he going to spend time with Ida and not be around Grace? One look at her today had let him know it was a sure thing: he wasn’t over her. Not by a long shot.
Now, what the heck was he supposed to do about that?
How about get her back? Ily’s voice in his mind reminded him he needed to be careful about broadcasting his thoughts. If you feel that strongly about her, maybe she has feelings for you as well? And she is single now.
Beau considered it, probably because the idea of getting Grace back was what he secretly wanted most of all. The question he faced was whether he was strong enough to face her possibly rejecting him. Again.
Chapter Eight
Suck it up, girl. Grace scolded herself silently as she studied her reflection in the mirror. It was just a regular family dinner. With one guest. One guest who just happened to have been her first love, her first… everything, and the one man who had the power to turn her legs to mush with a glance.
I’m screwed. And not in a good way, although the word did send her mind to places it should not go, places she’d visited all too many times during the lonely years of her marriage. Actually, it wasn’t to a place she’d traveled in those fantasies and moments of self-pleasure, but a who.
Oh, I am so completely screwed. Her brows furrowed as she summoned resolve. She was not a child or a lovestruck teen. She was a grown woman with two children, and she knew how to do conduct herself, how to behave in nearly any situation with decorum and good manners.
Grace blew a raspberry at herself and turned away from the mirror. With luck, Beau would be cool and distant, and the hurt and anger that would evoke would keep her from mooning over him.
Please don’t let me make a fool of myself. Just let me get through this with my dignity.
She went downstairs to find Sherri helping Gran set the table.
“We’re eating in the dining room?” Grace asked.
“We’re having company, Mama,” Sherri announced. “Gran’s friend, Mr. Beau.”
“Is that so?” Grace decided playing dumb was the wisest course of action.
“Yeah. Mr. Beau and Gran have dinner every Wednesday. One week she cooks and the next they go into town and eat at a restaurant.”
So, this wasn’t just a special occasion as Grace imagined. It was a regular event. And that probably meant that her mother had talked about Grace and the kids. The question was, what she had said about Grace.
“Well, isn’t that nice?” Grace looked at her mother. “Every week, huh?”
Ida met her gaze. “Yep. It’s real nice. I’d forgotten how much I enjoy Beau’s company. He always has had the kindest heart of anyone I’ve ever known.”
That took the wind out of Grace’s sails because it was the truth. Beau was one of the kindest people she’d ever known and what he had been doing for her mother was a wonderful act of giving.
It shamed Grace that she’d immediately thought of herself and the impact the dinner might have on her. How could she have failed to see that her mother had been terribly lonely since Grace’s dad died? Beau apparently saw what Grace had not and made a special effort to let Ida know he cared.
“He does indeed,” she finally agreed. “And I’m real glad he’s been keeping you company, mama. You and he always did have a special relationship.”
“You mean like he’s Gran’s boyfriend?” Sherri asked, having followed the conversation.
Ida laughed. “Oh no, honey. He’s way too young for your Gran. Mr. Beau was your mama’s boyfriend when they were young.”
“You had a boyfriend?” Sherri looked up at Grace with wide eyes.
“As a matter of fact, I did.”
“But you love my daddy, right, Mama?”
Grace’s eyes met her mother's, and after a moment, Ida sighed and looked down at Sherri. “Honey, you know your mama will always love your daddy, right, Gracie?”
“Yes,” Grace agreed. “I’ll always love him because he’s your and Theo’s daddy.”
“But he’s not your boyfriend no more?”
“No, sweetie, not anymore. Now he has another girlfriend.”
“You mean Miss Amy.”
Grace felt like she’d just been punched in the gut. She’d been so careful never to discuss the separation in front of the children, not even when she was on the phone. How could Sherri have found out about Tad and Amy?
“What would make you say that, sweetie?”
“’Cuz daddy kisses her and squeezes her butt in the laundry room every time.”
The phrase “saw red” had always been abstract. Until now. Now, Grace understood. Rage blossomed hot and red and raw, and at that moment all she wanted to do was physically hurt Tad and Amy.
She was searching her brain for a way to respond to her daughter when Ida dropped a glass. “Oh, my goodness, look at the mess I’ve made!”
It took just one look to for Grace to realize what had happened and she silently mouthed thank you to her mother.
“Come on, honey bunch.” Ida took Sherri’s hand. “I could use your help. Let’s get the vacuum and trash can and clean this up.”
“Okay, Gran.” Sherri hurried off with Ida, leaving Grace to try to settle herself.
She left the dining room and crossed through the parlor, headed for the stairs, but voices from the front porch drew her to the door. It stood open, with the screen door closed, allowing the evening breeze into the house.
Grace looked out and saw Theo sitting on the porch steps with Beau. Theo was showing Beau his Transformer lunch box.
“And this is Optimouse Prime, and he’s really, really big,” Theo said.
“He looks really big. Is he a good guy or a bad guy?”
“Oh, he really good and steps on bad guys.”
“Well, I bet he smushes them flat as a pancake with those feet.”
Theo must have found that funny because he giggled and repeated, “smushes them fwat as pancakes.”
Beau chuckled as well. A growl from just beyond the steps had Grace putting her hand on the door to push it open.
“That my dog Brick,” Theo announced. “Brick, you be nice.”
Brick’s head was lowered, and the hair on his neck stood up. Just as Grace pushed on the door, there was another low growl, this one deeper and more menacing. And coming from Beau.
She didn’t know who was more shocked, her or Brick. But she saw the impact of the growl on the dog. He went silent and then cowered.
“Good boy,” Beau said and held out his hand. “Come on, Brick. Come make friends.”
Brick crept over and licked Beau’s hands, then wiggled his stump of a tail and crowded in closer.
Theo laughed and hugged the dog. “Him like you, Mr. Beau.”
“Well, I like him too.”
“You be Brick’s friend?”
“Why, sure.”
“You be my friend?”
“I’d really like that. I imagine you’ve already made a bunch of new friends. You’re five, right?”
“Yes, five.” Theo held up one hand with his fingers spread wide. “Mama makes me go to k
indergarten. I no like it.”
“No? Why not?”
“Them kids are mean there. That boy pushes me down every day and he takes my juice too.”
Grace’s hand went to her mouth. Theo had not told her a word of this. Beau put his arm around Theo and slid the child close. “Tell you what, little man. How about I come have lunch with you tomorrow, and if that mean boy tries to take your juice, I’ll have a talk with him.”
“You could growl and skeer him. That’s a really good growl.”
Beau chuckled and hugged Theo to his side. “Well, I just might have to do that.”
“You really come to my school?”
“I will. I’ll find out what time you have lunch and be there. I promise.”
“Thank you, Beau.” Theo scrambled into his lap and threw his arms around Beau’s neck.
The waterworks started despite her best effort not to cry. Grace wiped at her eyes, feeling her chest full and tight. How was it that a man who’d only just met her child could be so caring and filled with compassion and the man who had fathered that precious little boy had not ever displayed a smidgen of that kind of caring.
As much as she didn’t want it, Beau’s actions brought back to her why she had loved him so much. He wasn’t just handsome and strong and smart; he was a person who genuinely cared about other people.
A hundred things flew through her head, remembrances of times gone by. She was so caught up in the past that she didn’t realize Theo had spotted her.
“There’s my mommy. Mommy! This is my friend, Beau. He coming to have lunch with me at school.”
Beau stood, holding Theo in one arm. “Hey, Grace. This sure is a fine little boy you have here.”
“Yes, he is.” Grace smiled and pushed open the door. “Come on in, Beau.”
“Thank you.” He stopped beside her and looked down into her eyes. “I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome.”
Grace knew what he meant, and that girl inside her, the one who’d been hurt by what she’d perceived as a betrayal, wanted to sink back into the resentment and punish him. If it hadn’t been for what happened between them, maybe she never would have said yes to Tad. She wouldn’t have married him.
