by Debbie Mason
“The timing isn’t right, that’s all.” Too late, Grace caught the telltale tic in Jack’s clenched jaw, and the subtle warning shake of Sawyer’s head.
Sawyer took Maria’s arm. “I think we should let Jack and Grace talk about this.”
“Sure, I guess. I hope you can convince your wife to let you work on the book, Jack. It’d be a shame if our story didn’t get told.” Maria got in one last jab before allowing Sawyer to walk her to her car.
You idiot, Grace thought. You walked right into that. Now Jack really was angry at her. Couldn’t he see that the woman was simply using the book as a way to spend time with him? “Why wouldn’t the story get told, Maria?” Grace called after her. “You’re a journalist. Surely you’re able to write—”
Jack cut Grace off with a curt “That’s enough.”
“But it’s true, Jack. Don’t you see what… You can’t seriously be thinking of working with her on this?”
“Yeah, I am. Sawyer’s right. She’s offered me a lot of money. I want to contribute to our family, too.”
“You are. You still get paid, and the bakery’s doing better every day.” There was more she wanted to say, but hesitated. Speaking her mind had only gotten her into trouble in the past. Then again, Jack blamed Grace’s unwillingness to share her feelings for some of their problems. She decided now was as good a time as any to start sharing. “I don’t want you to work with her on the book.” There, she’d said it. She felt better for telling him the truth, until she saw the hard set of his square jaw.
“It’s not your decision to make. It’s mine. There are two people in this relationship, Grace. You don’t get to call all the shots.”
“But you—” she began before being interrupted by Fred, who hollered at Jack and Sawyer from the front porch, “You two get in here or you’ll be working till midnight.”
“I gotta go. We’ll talk about this later. I’ll be over as soon as I finish up here. Probably around eight.”
“Okay, I’ll see you then. But, Jack,” she said as he started up the path, “I won’t change my mind.”
He stopped midstride, turning to face her, his gaze roaming her face. “Then we have a problem.”
“I guess we do,” she said quietly and walked away.
Grace reached the sidewalk as Maria sped off in a cloud of dust. “Don’t draw a line in the sand. He needs to do this,” Sawyer said, coming to stand beside her.
She shoved the helmet on her head. “No, he doesn’t. You didn’t see her today. She’s in love with him. She’s using the book as an excuse to get close to him.”
“Don’t confuse love with hero worship. Jack protected her over there. It’s because of him they got out alive. He’s in love with you, not her.” Sawyer adjusted the strap under her chin, struggling, she could tell, not to laugh.
She got on the bike. “Talk to him, Sawyer. For me. Make him understand why I can’t back down on this. For goodness’ sake, the woman destroyed my reputation this morning, and then she tried to run me over.”
“Grace, she didn’t—”
“Try, please.”
“Okay, but I’m not making any promises. And I want you to think about it, too. Think about it from Jack’s perspective.”
* * *
Drenched in sweat and frustration as she pedaled toward the bakery, Grace spotted the delivery van. She didn’t think she’d been gone that long. Although, considering the amount of time she’d spent on the ride back trying to come up with a rational, unemotional argument against Jack working with Maria, it was possible she had been.
She propped Desiree’s bike against the wall and walked into the bakery. As she noted the empty tables, an anxious knot tightened in her chest. It was just as well, she decided. She’d take the rest of the day off. It would give her the opportunity to set the stage for a romantic dinner. She’d make Roberto’s lasagna and her chocolate caramel cupcakes for Jack. Surely he’d be more receptive to her argument then. Now that she had the beginnings of a plan, she felt somewhat more hopeful until she saw the fretful expression on Desiree’s face.
“What’s wrong? Did the van break down?”
“Um, no. Five minutes after you left, three of the customers called in to cancel their orders. I got in touch with Skye before she made the trip for nothing.”
“Why did they cancel?”
“Word’s gotten out about the press conference and…” Desiree gave a pained grimace. “They all said they won’t do business with a woman who lied to them.”
A loud buzzing sound reverberated in Grace’s head. She felt faint. Her legs were boneless, and she leaned against the counter for support. Then she realized the buzzing was from the phone. It was off the hook, and she went to replace it.
Desiree grabbed her hand. “No, don’t.”
“Why?” Grace asked, even though she had a feeling she didn’t want to hear the answer.
“The three customers who canceled, they’re not the only ones who are upset. Seems like the whole town is worked up about you lying about your sugar plum wish and, you know, asking Jack for a divorce…” Desiree’s head bobbed back and forth. “… kicking him out of his house…”
“I think I get the picture. I’m sure it’ll blow over in a couple of days.” It had to. She’d be unable to pay her bills if it continued much longer. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to take—” She stopped at the look on Desiree’s face. “There can’t be more.”
“You know the two sugar plum cakes that you made for the Pines tasting tomorrow morning?”
“Yes,” she said warily. The resort wanted to sample the cakes before signing on the dotted line.
“They’re destroyed. I didn’t notice until I had to go in the cooler to get Mrs. Tate’s order. I think Stu must’ve done it. I’m so sorry, Grace, if I would’ve known—”
Grace sagged against the counter and bowed her head. Swallowing past the hard lump in her throat, she said, “It’s not your fault.”
It was Maria DeMarco’s. In less than two days, she’d destroyed Grace’s reputation, put her business at risk, and did a number on Grace’s marriage and confidence. And today, she’d almost killed her. So if Jack thought Grace was going to change her mind about him working with the woman, he had another thing coming.
Grace glanced at the clock; it was two. She’d be lucky to finish the cakes by eight. Maybe she could push Jack off by an hour. Pulling out her phone to text him, she winced. She’d forgotten about her injured hands. They were going to slow her down. Her fingers froze over the keys. What was she supposed to tell Jack? He’d made it clear how he felt about her long hours. In his eyes, this would be one more strike against the bakery, another nail in its coffin. But the contract with the Pines was too important for Grace to jeopardize, especially now.
She squinched her eyes closed, took a deep breath, and tapped out the text. Jack, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come over tonight. I don’t want to fight with you, and we will. I need more time. We’ll talk tomorrow. As soon as she sent the text, she turned off her phone.
Skye rushed into the bakery with an earthenware bowl in her hands. “Don’t you worry, Grace. I’ve got it covered.” She lit a match, putting the tip to the end of a small stick. Sage-scented smoke filled the bakery as she walked around the tables. “I’m going to get rid of all the negative energy for you.”
Chapter Seventeen
Jack took a seat at the end of the bar. Sawyer, wearing a Colorado Flurries ball cap, cut Jack a sidelong glance as he fixed a girly drink for a tall, leggy redhead. Sawyer shook his head with a laugh when the woman asked for his phone number. She walked away with a pout and her drink.
Sawyer lifted his chin. “Wanna beer?”
“Sure.” He could use a cold one after the day he had. Maybe a couple of them.
Sawyer popped the cap off a Twisted Pine Stout and slid the bottle across the bar. “Didn’t think you’d show. Figured you’d be busy making up with your wife.”
“Li
ttle hard to be making up with her when she won’t take my calls, don’t you think?” He took a long pull of the beer, letting the ice-cold brew assuage his thirst and his temper. He’d been tempted to stop by the apartment on his way to the Penalty Box from Jill’s, but it was late, and he was tired and on the far side of testy. Not the best combination for a heart-to-heart.
“Didn’t stop you the other day.”
“Yeah, and look how that turned out. She wants time. I’m giving it to her.”
“In my experience, giving a woman more time to think never works out how you hoped.”
“Just what I wanted to hear. Thanks, pal,” Jack muttered, his eyes going to the flat screen behind Sawyer when the eleven o’clock news came on. They were leading with this morning’s press conference. A photo of Jack staring at his open palm and Grace looking at him with a devastated expression on her face flashed across the screen. Jack cursed under his breath and took another pull on his beer.
A thirtysomething bald guy two barstools over shook an old-fashioned tumbler, ice cubes tinkling, at the TV. “Heard what went down at the bakery today, man. Gotta hurt when a wife pulls shit like that. You got my sympathies.”
Sawyer shot the customer a censorious look and aimed the channel changer at the TV, tuning in to the last minutes of play-off hockey.
The guy glanced to his left and grinned. “I bet she could help ease your pain.”
Maria flashed the man a smile and sidled up to Jack. “I’m surprised your wife let you out to play,” she said, tangling her fingers in the hair at his nape.
He moved her hand to the bar. “She’s not my keeper.”
Sawyer’s eyebrows disappeared under his ball cap before he turned to grab a bottle of scotch off the well-stocked glass shelf. Okay, so maybe that was harsh.
“Huh.” Maria reached for his beer. “Sure sounded that way to me. Never thought of you as the type of guy who lets his wife wear the pants in the family.” She lifted the bottle to her lips, holding his gaze as she took a deep swallow.
Sawyer uttered a low “Ouch” as he handed the bald guy another scotch and soda. Jack removed the bottle from Maria’s hands. “She doesn’t.”
“So you’re accepting my offer, then?” Maria asked, a challenge in her voice.
“Yeah, I am.” The words were out of his mouth before he could take them back. But if he was honest, he didn’t want to. His wife had used her savings to renovate the bakery and the apartment, and that didn’t sit well with Jack. Nor did Grace telling him what he could and couldn’t do.
Maria’s face lit up with a smile. “That’s the best news I’ve had all day. You don’t know how happy you’ve made me.” Her smile dimmed, a hint of pain in her dark eyes. “I don’t think I could’ve handled it by myself. It’s hard, you know, remembering…” She leaned in, his stomach roiling at the smell of wine and beer on her breath. She brushed her lips across his cheek. “Thank you.”
“Don’t make me regret my decision, Maria.”
“Of course not. Come on, let’s celebrate. A bottle of your best champagne, Sawyer. You do serve champagne, don’t you?” she asked when Sawyer crossed his arms, his gaze narrowed at Jack.
Taking note of her over-the-top happiness, the slight slurring of her words, the way her body swayed into his, Jack said, “I think you’ve had enough to drink, Maria.”
Her gaze softened, and she stroked his arm. “You always took such good care of me. If it weren’t for you…” She blinked back tears, reminding him how vulnerable she still was. Less than a month ago they’d been running for their lives.
“Amazed,” his and Grace’s song, came through the speakers. Maria tugged on his fingers. “Dance with me.”
Sawyer looked like he was about to say something, but a couple of women approached the bar, presenting their glasses for a refill.
“No.” Jack removed her hand. “This is what I’m talking about, Maria. I’m married. You have to remember that or I can’t work with you. You can’t pull shit like you did the other day.”
“What harm is there in a dance between friends?”
“Small town, remember?”
“Yeah, Jack, I remember everything,” she said softly and held his gaze. He wondered if he’d bitten off more than he could chew. Would she be able to put their past behind them? And how the hell was he supposed to make Grace understand why he needed to do this without coming off as a sexist jerk? He thought of the house on Sugar Plum Lane. Maybe if she knew he was thinking of buying it… No, he still wasn’t sure he could go through with it.
He returned his attention to Maria. “I remember how you felt about this town and the bakery,” she said, caressing his bicep. “You can’t be happy here. And life’s too short to waste a single minute of it being unhappy, Jack. You and I know that better than anyone in this place.” She gestured to the people in the bar. “Get rid of the bakery, and get out of this town before it sucks the life out of you.”
It felt like a steel band wrapped around his chest as her words hit too close for comfort. “You’re forgetting my wife and son. It doesn’t matter where I am—as long as I’m with them, I’ll be happy.” He said the words for Maria’s benefit. He wasn’t exactly in a happy place right now. Maybe because, thanks to Grace, he wasn’t living with her and little Jack.
The lyrics from “Amazed” drifted above the hum of conversation and laughter. They were as true now, Jack realized, as on his wedding day. He wanted Grace in his life forever. Somehow he had to make her remember what they’d once had. What they could have again.
Maria tilted her head to search his face, then nodded with a sad smile. “You deserve to be happy.”
A guy with dark, slicked-back hair called to Maria and waved her to his table. She patted Jack’s shoulder. “Let me know when you can start on the book. The sooner the better.”
“Sure, I’ll call you tomorrow to set up a time.”
As she turned to walk away, he saw her force a come-hither smile onto her lips.
“She sure knows how to push your buttons, doesn’t she?” Sawyer observed dryly, his eyes on the table where she took a seat.
“Okay, just for one minute, imagine yourself in my place. How would you react if your wife told you you couldn’t take a job that’s going to pay you a shitload of cash?”
“Is Grace my wife?” He grinned when Jack gave him the finger. “Kidding aside, I get where you’re coming from. But I understand why Grace reacted the way she did. It’s pretty obvious Maria has the hots for you. And, intentional or not, she ran your wife off the road a few minutes before she mentioned the book deal.”
An image of Grace in the pink helmet came to him, and Jack found himself smiling. She’d looked pretty damn cute.
“You’re thinking about Grace, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“You get a moony look on your face. Go home and work things out with your wife.”
Jack set his empty beer bottle on the bar. “I think I’ll do—”
“If she keeps that up, I’m going to have to put her in the box.”
“What are you…” Jack began, following the direction of Sawyer’s gaze. Maria was getting down and dirty on the dance floor with the guy who’d called her to his table.
“I have a feeling that show’s all for you, buddy. She’s trying to make you jealous.”
“She’s going to a lot of trouble for nothing, then.” He went to turn away when he saw the change come over Maria. Her dance partner had come up behind her and grabbed her by the hips, grinding against her. She froze, her mouth opening on a silent scream. The guy kept grinding, oblivious to her reaction.
Jack shot off the barstool and across the dance floor. Shoving the man back, he grabbed Maria, who swayed on her heels.
“What the fuck?” her dance partner said, reaching for Jack.
Sawyer stepped between them. “You don’t want to do that,” he advised the guy and took him by the arm. “Party’s over. Time to leave.”
“Maria?” Jack gave her a small shake, trying to snap her out of it. He ignored the curious stares of their attentive audience and wrapped an arm around her waist. She leaned heavily against him as he guided her off the dance floor. “Jesus, Maria, what—”
“I’m okay. Too much to drink, that’s all,” she whispered. “I need to leave.”
“Sit for a minute,” he said, settling her on a stool.
Sawyer came around the bar, took one look at Maria, and grabbed a mug off the counter.
She wouldn’t look at Jack. “Thanks,” she said, accepting the cup of coffee from Sawyer.
Jack shrugged at the question in Sawyer’s eyes. He didn’t know if she was okay or not. The color had returned to her face, and her hand no longer shook. Whatever happened out there, she was pulling it together. “Did you talk to Dr. Trainer?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
“I’m okay.”
“What just happened to you out there doesn’t qualify as okay, Maria. Make an appointment with him tomorrow or I’m not working with you on the book.”
“I… All right, I’ll call him. Happy?” she said, her dark eyes flashing.
The knots in his shoulders relaxed at her reaction. Better anger than that vacant stare.
“I’ll give you a ride to the lodge,” Sawyer offered when she slid off the barstool.
“Thanks, but I’d rather walk. I need the fresh air.” She patted Jack’s chest. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Maria, I’m serious. I want—”
She waved him off as she walked away. “Don’t worry about me, Jack. I’ve got it covered.”
But she didn’t, and that’s what bothered him.
“What happened to her over there?” Sawyer asked.
Jack told him what he knew. But she’d been there a couple of months before he and his crew were taken captive, so he didn’t know the whole story.
Sawyer poured himself and Jack shots. Tossing his back, Sawyer wiped his mouth with his hand. “I get it now,” he said. “I get why you need to help her through this.”
“Yeah.” Jack rubbed his jaw. “I shouldn’t have let her go off on her own.” He could tell by the look on Sawyer’s face that he thought the same thing. Jack got off the stool. “I’ll try to catch up with her, walk her to the lodge, then head over to see Grace. I’ll pick up my bike on my way back.”
