by Debbie Mason
He turned off the tap, slammed the kettle onto a burner, and with an impatient flick of his wrist, turned it on. Grace’s gaze jerked to his and widened when he fit his hands under her arms and lifted her off the floor. “What…”
Taking her by the hand, he hauled her into the hall and backed her against the wall, then proceeded to kiss her senseless. Since it’d worked earlier, he hoped it would work again, because she was pissing him off. When Grace wrapped herself around him, making those sexy little noises in the back of her throat, the sound of the kettle’s whistle was the only thing that stopped him from taking her right there, right then. Slowly he pulled away, more frustrated than before he’d put his brilliant plan into action. Grace sagged against the wall with a dazed expression on her face. Jack planted his palms on either side of her head and brought his mouth to her ear. “As soon as Maria’s out of here, I’m in you.”
She blinked, then opened her mouth. Whatever she planned to say was interrupted by a loud knocking on the front door.
He gave her a fast, hard kiss. “You better get that.” He dropped his gaze to the front of his jeans when she started to protest, silently pointing out the obvious.
“Okay.” She nodded, a dimpled smile curving her lips as she turned to walk away.
Satisfied that he’d at least put his wife in a better mood, he walked into the kitchen. As he removed the whistling kettle from the burner, he sensed Maria’s intent gaze upon him. Unlike his wife, she wasn’t in a good mood. Self-consciously, he angled his body toward the stove. A couple of seconds later, he heard Grace introduce Skylar Davis to Maria.
His wife came into the kitchen while the two women talked in the living room. “I’ll get that,” Grace said, taking the kettle from him.
He lifted his chin to the two women. “They know each other?”
“No, Maria recognized Skye. Her father was the governor of Texas. Maria interviewed him several years ago.” As she poured the hot water in the teapot, Grace glanced at him from under her lashes. “Maybe Maria and Skye would like to talk for a bit. You haven’t eaten. I’ll fix up a tray, and we’ll join you.”
Remembering his conversation with Sawyer, Jack held back a grin. “Sure, that’d be great.”
Twenty minutes later, Jack wished he’d shot down Grace’s suggestion. And from the tight expression on his wife’s face, she did, too. If the two women had hoped to discover something to use against Maria, they’d be disappointed. Maria had turned the tables on them. Jack was about to suggest they get back to work when Maria said, “Sorry, Grace, you must be bored to tears.”
“Not at all,” his wife responded. “It’s incredible how much the three of you have in common, especially you and Jack.”
He grimaced at Grace’s snotty tone. He understood how she might feel as though Maria was trying to one-up her, but he didn’t think it was intentional. The problem was that he and Maria did have a lot in common, at least when it came to their interest in extreme sports and travel. And, admittedly, they’d spent a lot of time together.
“Yes, we do, don’t we, Jack?” Maria smiled, smoothing her palm along his thigh.
He didn’t have to look at Grace to know how she’d react to Maria touching him. She wouldn’t understand that Maria meant nothing by it. She was a touchy-feely kind of person and not only with him. “Um-hmm,” he said, shifting away from her. Plucking another cupcake from the tray, he smiled at his wife. “These are amazing, princess.”
She held his gaze. “Thanks.”
So much for getting lucky tonight, he thought as he bit into the moist chocolate cupcake with the caramel center.
“They look so good, I wish I could have one. Sadly, I have to watch what I eat. Unlike you,” Maria said with a laugh, looking at Skye, who was on her third. “And you, Grace—I don’t know how you stay so skinny working in a bakery.”
Okay, that was a backhanded compliment if he’d ever heard one. He opened his mouth to say something, but Skye intervened. “Don’t kid yourself. A body as fantastic as Grace’s doesn’t come without work. She runs every morning before she opens the bakery. She swims and bikes, too.”
With each activity Skye said she participated in, Grace’s eyes widened farther. Jack grinned into the cupcake. His wife didn’t run, she was afraid of the water, and if the sweat pouring off her the other day was anything to go by, she didn’t bike much, either. But Skye had succeeded in putting Maria in her place, which was all Jack cared about.
“Really? I didn’t know you were such an athlete, Grace. I guess I’ll have competition in the triathlon after all,” Maria said with a tight smile.
Jack choked on his cupcake.
“Triathlon?” Grace croaked.
“Yes, the one on July Fourth. Surely you’ve heard about it. I signed up yesterday. The proceeds go to The Home Front Cares. I don’t recall seeing your name on the list, Grace.”
“No, I…”
“She was waiting for me to sign up. We’re going to do that first thing tomorrow morning, aren’t we, Grace?” Skye said.
Grace gave the other woman a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look. “We are?”
“You both should know, I plan on winning that race. It’d be the perfect photo to end the book with.” She shifted to face him. “Jack, you should sign up. We’ll cross the finish line together.”
“I, ah…”
“Come on, you have to do this. It’s a great cause.”
“We’ll see.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “We probably should be getting back to work.”
“We should, too. Grace and I are working on a book, you know.”
Maria arched a brow. “Is that right? What’s it about?”
“Me,” Skye said. “I mean, it’s about the Sugar Plum Cake Fairy. Grace is doing the illustrations, and my best friend Vivi’s writing the story. But we’re going to have to do some serious edits. That girl sucks at writing happily-ever-afters.”
“I didn’t know you’re an artist, Grace,” Maria said in a skeptical tone of voice.
“I’m not an artist. I…”
“Are you kidding me?” Skye got up from the floor and headed for the bookcase.
“No, Skye, don’t…” Grace said, half rising from the chair.
The woman ignored her and retrieved a sketch pad from the shelf, holding it out of Grace’s reach. “Don’t be so modest,” Skye scolded her, flipping it open. “Now do you believe me?” she asked Maria.
Jack lifted his stunned gaze from the sketch of him holding his laughing son. If he’d ever doubted Grace loved him, all he’d have to do is look at that image. Her love for him and his son imbued every line of the drawing.
“Do you like it?” she asked, fiddling with the zipper on her top.
“No. I love it. It’s incredible.”
She gave him a shy smile.
Maria’s narrowed gaze moved from him to Grace before she tilted her head, reaching out to trace the sketch of his back with her fingers. “It’s fantastic. You captured him exactly, right down to that small scar at the base of his spine.”
Maria’s eyes widened at the are-you-fucking-kidding-me look he shot her. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to say that.”
He stood up. “You know what, I think we should call it a night.”
“No, please let me explain.” She reached for his hand. “Grace, I know how that sounded, but I meant it as a compliment. Truly, I did.”
“Thank you,” Grace said in an excruciatingly polite tone of voice, her whitened fingers gripping the arms of the chair.
Skye’s gaze rocketed between the three of them, and she started babbling about the book and the Sugar Plum Cake Fairy, showing Grace’s sketch to Maria’s over-the-top praise. Skye skipped a couple pages, then held up another sketch. “Grace, maybe you should give Jack this one so they get the house exactly right.”
He was screwed. Because as much as he could tell she loved him from her sketch, it was obvious she felt the same about the damn house on Sugar Plum Lane.<
br />
Chapter Twenty
You sure you don’t mind dropping me off?” Skye asked as Grace drove Jack’s truck along I-70.
“Of course not. It’s the least I can do,” Grace said, casting a grateful glance at the butterscotch blonde wearing white capri pants and a white T-shirt. “I really appreciated you coming along for moral support.”
“Like you needed it. You were fan-freaking-tastic. And bringing a sugar plum cake was a stroke of genius. Did you see John’s face when he opened the sugar plum?” Skye asked, referring to John Ryan, who’d done the interview with Grace on Good Afternoon Denver.
Grace smiled. “It was the perfect wish, wasn’t it? I wouldn’t have known he’d just gotten engaged if it weren’t for Madison.”
Skye was right: bringing the cake had been an inspired idea. Jack would probably disagree. He hadn’t been pleased when Grace started baking as soon as Skye and Maria left last night. But after enduring three hours in the company of Maria the Magnificent, Grace had needed to relieve her stress and, she supposed, to boast her own self-esteem by doing something she was good at. After listening to how much Jack and Maria had in common, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the other woman was his perfect match. It didn’t help that Grace and Jack weren’t in the best of places right now. Every time they took a step forward, something knocked them two steps back. Last night had been no exception. Frustrated with Grace’s inability to let Maria’s comments go, Jack had left for Jill’s.
Skye made a face. “I think Nell’s rubbing off on Madison. And speaking of Nell, we better complete our surveillance report on Maria. It’s due tomorrow.”
“We don’t have much to report.” Grace glanced at the other woman. “Did you get the feeling Maria knew what we were up to last night?”
“Yeah. I think Jack did, too. I saw him trying not to laugh a couple of times.” Skye slipped off her sandals and put her feet on the dashboard. “And I have to tell you, your husband’s smokin’ hot on a bad day, but when he smiles, he’s off the charts.” She fanned herself.
“I get that a lot,” Grace said, thinking of Wanda, and waited for Skye to continue in the same vein.
“I bet you do. And I’m sure you had your reasons, but honestly, I don’t think I could’ve kicked him out. It’s like cutting off your nose to spite your face. I’m just glad you guys worked it out, and he’s back home now.”
“Um, he’s not,” she admitted, focusing on the road as it wound its way through the valley, the snowcapped Rocky Mountains looming in the distance.
“But you told John… Okay, gotcha. Smart move. Probably wouldn’t have gone over well with the viewers if you’d told the truth.”
Grace’s fingers tightened convulsively around the steering wheel as she thought about how Jack would react to her lie. She’d wanted to take the words back as soon as they’d popped out of her mouth. But the interview had been going so well up until then that she couldn’t do it. She was desperate to turn the publicity nightmare around, and it felt like she had.
“Don’t stress about it. I’m sure Jack will understand.”
Grace made a noncommittal sound in her throat. She knew better. And when her cell rang, she mentally prepared herself to deal with her ticked-off husband. Skye picked up Grace’s cell phone from where it lay on the console between them. “It’s your mom. I’ll put her on speakerphone,” Skye said at the same time Grace said, “Don’t pick… Hello, Mother.” She’d rather talk to a ticked-off Jack than Helena any day.
“Sorry,” Skye whispered.
Grace forced a smile and mouthed, It’s okay.
“Grace Garrison Flaherty, I have never been more humiliated in my life. I had to hear from Major Talley’s wife about that… that press conference. How could you do that to your father and me? And Jackson! I can’t imagine how humiliated he was. For a hero to be treated like that, and by a general’s daughter…”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Skye staring, openmouthed, at the phone. Her face awash with heat, Grace said, “I was as unhappy about what happened as you are, Mother. But Jack understands why—”
Helena cut her off with a haughty sniff. “I highly doubt it. Your disgraceful behavior has brought shame to both the Garrison and Flaherty names. I expect you to—”
Hands cupped to her mouth, Skye made loud whooshing and crackling sounds, then picked up the phone and pressed End.
Stunned, Grace looked from the phone to Skye. Most of her mother’s calls ended with Grace wishing she’d hung up on her, but she’d never had the nerve.
Skye shrugged. “I’m sorry, but no one deserves to be spoken to like that. I don’t care if she is your mother. She didn’t even ask about the fire.”
“I’m used to it. And I doubt my dad told her.” Grace had talked to her father yesterday morning. With the possibility the fire had been her fault, he wouldn’t breathe a word to Helena. He’d wanted to come to Christmas, but afraid her mother would join him, Grace had convinced him not to.
“You know, you should come zip-lining with me. It’s a great way to relieve stress. And, ah”—she glanced at the top of Grace’s head—“you really need to relieve yours before it makes you sick.”
“I’m not very adventurous, so zipping across a cable a hundred feet above a gorge isn’t my idea of stress relief. If anything, I’d have a heart attack. And why do you keep looking at me like that?” Grace asked, touching the top of her head.
“You have a black cloud hanging over you… literally.”
“Over my head?”
Skye nodded. “I know you’ve been dealing with a lot lately, but for an aura to be as black as yours, it’s more than that. Something happened to you in the past, and whatever it was, you’re hanging on to a lot of guilt and grief. You gotta let it go.” She tilted her head and grinned. “And I know exactly how to do it.”
“How?” Grace asked, unable to keep the hope from her voice. Because Skye was right; that particular cloud had been hanging over her since she was twelve.
“Primal therapy,” Skye said, opening her window and directing Grace to do the same. “It’d be better if we had a convertible. We could have a Thelma-and-Louise moment. But this’ll work.”
“Didn’t they die in the movie?”
“Oh, right, but I love that scene with them driving, wind blowing in their hair, female bonding and all that.” She waved her fingers at Grace’s open window. “Stick your head out and scream all the pain you’ve repressed to the universe, sweetie.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“Sure you can.” Skye stuck her head out the passenger-side window, her long, curly hair flapping in the wind as she screamed her lungs out. Pulling her head back in, she said, “Don’t think, just do it.”
Taking a deep breath, Grace did as Skye instructed. The wind swallowed her first attempt, a pitifully weak warble. And then, with Skye’s encouragement, Grace released a scream from deep inside her, a noise so loud and pain-filled it was embarrassing. But it was also one of the most incredibly freeing moments she’d ever experienced. And once she started, Grace couldn’t stop.
Until she heard the siren.
She glanced in her rearview mirror and groaned at the sight of the dark-haired woman behind the patrol car’s wheel. Grace pulled the truck to the side of the road and braced herself. She hadn’t seen Jill since the morning of the press conference.
“Well, that sucks. You were doing so good.”
Grace didn’t have a chance to respond because her sister-in-law stared at her through the open window with a look Grace was becoming familiar with. She’d seen the same have-you-lost-your-fricking-mind expression in her husband’s eyes a lot lately.
“It’s all right, Grace. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m just going to help you out of the van,” her sister-in-law said in a soft, concerned voice as she opened the driver-side door.
Something terrible must have happened. It was the only explanation for Jill’s uncharacteristic behavior. Jill was being sw
eet, and she was never sweet. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to little Jack… to Jack?”
“No, they’re good. Everything’s good.” Grace tugged down the hem of her pink eyelet sundress as Jill gently helped her from the van. As soon as Grace’s feet touched the pavement, Jill released a choked sob and pulled Grace into her arms. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I love you. You’re going to be okay. We’re going to get you help.”
From behind Grace came a snort and a gasping sound. She looked over her shoulder to see Skye, a hand pressed to her mouth, an arm around her waist, trying to contain her laughter.
Realization dawned at Skye’s reaction. Jill actually thought Grace had lost it. She patted her sister-in-law’s back. “I’m okay, Jill. Honest. And I love you, too. Even though you have to admit you’ve been a… Well, you know.”
Jill drew back, looking from Grace to Skye, who’d broken into loud guffaws of laughter. Jill scowled, her cheeks stained pink, and fisted her hands on her hips. “So if you’re not having a breakdown, what in the hell were you doing?”
She’s back, Grace thought with a sigh. “I—” she started to explain.
“You’re drunk.”
“Of course, I’m not drunk. I’d never drink and drive.” At Jill’s skeptical look, she said, “Okay, if you don’t believe me, watch this.” Grace proceeded to walk a straight line down the side of the road. She wobbled a little in the white high heels, but otherwise she thought she’d proven her point. And to ensure that she did, she stuck out her arms and balanced on one foot, and that’s when she saw the black Harley coming toward them, its driver looking all big and badass.
While Grace looked like a flamingo.
She lowered her leg and arms and turned on her sister-in-law. “I don’t believe you. You called Jack.”
Jill threw up her hands. “What was I supposed to do? I thought you were having a nervous breakdown.”
Jack pulled onto the opposite shoulder and turned off the engine. Kicking the stand into place, he held Grace’s gaze as he took off his helmet and leather jacket. He didn’t look happy. What he did look like was dangerously sexy and hot in a black T-shirt and jeans. He crossed the road, that intent blue gaze of his taking everything in. When he reached them, he gently grasped Grace’s chin between his fingers and searched her eyes. “You okay?”
