Worth the Wait (Kingston Ale House)

by A. J. Pine

  But even as he tried to convince Will, he realized the person he was really talking to was himself. Jeremy loved Kingston Ale House. That wasn’t a question. But he’d managed to sidestep another brewing class since that first weekend in Madison, and he was saner for it. He had no interest in the science of brewing beer. Put him front and center interacting with the patrons, and he was in his element. Stick him in back trying to determine the alcohol content of a certain brew, and he would be fucking miserable.

  Shit. He would be fucking miserable with half of what co-owning this place would mean. And he’d put off thinking about it for so long that he was now considering fucking up his relationship with his friend and boss on the night before his wedding. But Jamie had said he wanted a full partner—someone who knew all areas of the business. Jeremy could tell you what beer went best with a burger—an IPA—or the fish and chips—an English-style bitter or even a cream ale. But he wasn’t a brewer, and if that’s what Jamie wanted, then he wasn’t the right guy.

  Nice job, Denning. Well. Fucking. Done.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said to Will. “Help yourself to anything you want back here. Open bar.”

  “Cheers,” Will said as Jeremy hurried out onto the floor, but he didn’t make it farther than the spot where he momentarily froze just across from the brewery entrance.

  He knew who the man bursting through the door was, not from a grainy Facebook post but from his own morbid curiosity.

  He’d googled, which was why he was certain that the tall guy in the overcoat and three-piece suit standing opposite him was Mark Wright.

  The other man’s stare caught his immediately, and Jeremy felt something feral within him kick in. He didn’t care what the hell was going on between him and Grace at the moment. He wasn’t going to let her past interfere with her future.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Jeremy asked, approaching the unwanted guest.

  The guy had the balls to take off his coat and hand it to Jeremy, who promptly let it fall to the floor.

  “I asked you a question,” Jeremy said, remembering that the only other time this bar experienced an act of violence was when he’d clotheslined Wes for sleeping with his sister and then cheating on her—only to find out that Annie had misconstrued the situation and Wes had never cheated. Still, Wes had slept with Annie behind Jeremy’s back, and he was sure that violated a number of bro rules. Not that it mattered now that Wes was marrying her.

  He knew he wouldn’t have to worry about any contract if he pulled a stunt like that again. Jamie would probably fire him altogether. The funny thing was, Jeremy wasn’t that guy—the one who resorted to his baser self in the face of anger. At least, he hadn’t been until his best friend had betrayed him and, so he thought, his sister.

  The asshole standing in front of him had betrayed Grace in so many ways, and Jeremy wasn’t going to let him do it again, no matter how this night played out.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Whitney rushing toward them. She’d already scooped Mark’s coat up off the floor before Jeremy could say anything else.

  “Mr. Wright. Mark. I—I’m glad you could make it. I see you’ve met Jeremy Denning.”

  Mark crossed his arms and gave Jeremy the once-over. “I’m assuming he’s in the dark about the legalities of our arrangement, Ms. Gaines?”

  “Legalities? What the hell is he talking about, Whit? I thought you were going to take care of this.”

  Mark laughed. “Whit. Aren’t you two adorable?” He unbuttoned his suit jacket and scanned the room. Jeremy followed his eyes to the table where Grace’s parents sat.

  “No,” Jeremy said, turning back to Whitney. “No fucking way. Someone better tell me what the hell is going on right now because you said you were going to fix this.”

  Whitney Gaines, always the picture of composure, fidgeted with the clasp on her watch. Then she tucked her hair behind her ear. She even worried her bottom lip between her teeth. But she never broke eye contact with Jeremy, so he knew whatever she said next would be the truth.

  “I may have had him sign a small contract,” she said. “Just a tiny little agreement to be on the show tonight. I swear our legal department did a great job with it. The document was totally in our favor, and—”

  “And you knew this when I saw you on the lake path the other day,” he said. “Christ. Why didn’t you tell me all of this then? I would have warned her. She already thinks I’m— Fuck, it doesn’t matter what she thinks because you’re about to throw her worst nightmare back in her face and I said nothing. You made me a part of this, Whit. I asked for your help, and you chose you instead. Are ratings really more important to you than someone else’s life?”

  She flinched at his words, something he’d never seen her do before. He wasn’t aiming to hurt her, but shit. Why was she aiming to hurt Grace?

  “Oh my God.”

  Jeremy heard Grace’s trembling voice behind him, and his heart sank to his feet as he turned to face her.

  “I’m sorry,” Whitney said. “This is my fault. I didn’t know about the money and your dad and he’d already signed the contract—”

  Grace’s eyes widened. “Jeremy,” she said, and he heard all of the trust she’d put in him dissolve into nothing more than air. “You knew Mark was going to be here tonight? And…you told her what he did?” Her voice shook, and a weight pressed down so hard on his chest he thought he might sink into the ground.

  Mark chuckled. “Am I the only one connecting the dots here?” he asked. He pointed to Whitney. “She wants him.” Then Jeremy. “He wants you. But you’re meant to be with me. That way everyone wins.”

  Grace shook her head. “You may have bought my silence, but there is no loophole that will ever let you buy me.”

  When Grace’s eyes met Jeremy’s again, all he saw was loss. He watched it happen, him losing her. But he didn’t dare look away. She shrugged as a tear slipped down her cheek.

  “I told you,” she said. “Sometimes the bad guy wins. I just didn’t think you’d help him do it.”

  “Grace,” he said, reaching a hand for her face, but she shook her head. “You know that’s not fair. I was trying to keep this from happening. I didn’t mean to tell Whitney. But when she told me what she had planned for tonight, I lost it. I fucked up, but it’s because I care about you. You know that, right?”

  “That doesn’t change anything,” she said softly. “It happened, and you knew it would, and now I have to deal with the fallout.” She sniffled and then straightened her shoulders. “I’m under contract, too,” she said. “So let’s all do what we came here to do, okay?”

  Jeremy’s throat tightened. Her gaze held his, and he was afraid that once she looked away, that would be it. Any tie that still held them together would be gone. So there was no way he was breaking eye contact first.

  “You’re not seriously going to let him on the show, are you?” Jeremy asked, eyes trained on Grace but his words directed toward his ex.

  Whitney cleared her throat. She knew he was talking to her. “I couldn’t break the contract,” she said. “I tried. I swear I did. But the station was dead set on his on-camera grand gesture that would dial the drama up a few notches.”

  Mark took a step toward Grace, and she did it. She broke the last thread of their connection to face him.

  “We were good, Grace,” he said with a gentleness Jeremy wasn’t expecting. “I know I messed up with the money, but you have to know everything I did was for us. We could be good again.”

  “Don’t,” she said. “Whatever your supposed grand gesture is, I know who you are now. I know what you are. Everything you did—everything you do is for you and you alone. There’s no way in hell you’re going to argue your way back into my life. Not this time.”

  She smoothed out her dress and swiped a finger under each eye.

  “I should probably let your makeup artist do a final touch-up, huh?” Grace asked. “I mean, the camera’s gonna roll no matter what,
right?”

  “Sure,” Whitney said. “I really am sorry.”

  He knew Whitney wasn’t truly malicious, that the sincerity in her voice was real. He hoped Grace could hear that. But it didn’t change the fact that this night was not panning out like he’d planned. He was supposed to protect Grace from what Whitney had done. Instead, he’d blindsided her when he should have warned her. Even if he’d trusted Whitney to take care of things, he should have at least let Grace know what she was planning. Just in case. Because guess what? Just in case just fucking happened, and now everything Grace had been working on these past six months threatened to come crashing down. On live television. Would she ever forgive him if it did?

  “I guess that’s it, then,” Grace said. “Come grab me when it’s time.” And she weaved her way back to where the makeup artist had set up shop at a table that was off camera.

  Whitney nodded and looked at her watch. “Shit. We’re live in twenty minutes.”

  This couldn’t be it, Grace going down without a fight. But she had more than one battle on her hands, didn’t she? Well, then he’d have to fight for both of them. Whatever happened when the camera went live, one thing was certain. He would kiss her, and he would do whatever it took to prove that she was it for him.

  Maybe his commitment to Whitney was born of convenience. They were practically kids when they met, and after their years together, marriage seemed like the logical next step. But he knew now that Whitney did him a favor, even if it messed up his perception for a while. It wasn’t a lack of ambition that was missing between them. It was the inextinguishable fire—the one he had with Grace. He got that now. Lincoln Park’s reformed player fucking got it. Because he was downright crazy for Grace Bailey.

  Most couples started to fall in love with the inexplicable magic of a first kiss. Tonight would be like tracing their steps backward to that first they’d never had.

  Because he was already in love with her. Now he just had to fight for her to stay.

  Chapter Thirty

  Six months of laser focus, of cutting out any and all toxic influences in her life, and Grace was still no closer to getting it right. She had put all her faith in Jeremy, and he’d broken her trust, showing her that there was no magic pill. She had always thought that her physical attraction to Mark had blinded her to the person he really was. But maybe she was just blind. Period.

  She gave herself a once-over in the makeup artist’s mirror that sat on the table in her corner booth. She would be on camera in five minutes, and what happened after that would decide her professional future. Her personal future, though, was pretty much toast. Still, she blew out a breath and rose to face whatever came next. She strode toward the table against the window where her parents, sister, and brother-in-law sat. So much for keeping this little part of her life a secret. But as she got closer, her eyes widened when she noticed two other people crowded around the already full rectangular table—a young woman around Grace’s age…and Mrs. Abelli, her favorite Madison client.

  “Gracie,” her mom said as she approached. “We just met your nice friend from Wisconsin. She says you work there?”

  Oh. Right. The second job she had managed to keep a secret.

  “Mrs. Abelli. It’s so good to see you, but what are you doing here?”

  The woman waved her off as if her question was ridiculous.

  “My granddaughter, Isabella, she follow your story on the computer. I tell her I know you, that when you win money, you no longer need two jobs. So I ask her to bring me to say good-bye.”

  Isabella held out her hand to shake Grace’s while Mrs. Abelli reached in her bag and pulled out a small plastic container of pizzelle. Grace let out a laugh that threatened to turn into a sob.

  “I’m kind of looking forward to being her favorite granddaughter again,” Isabella said with a grin. “Nonna has really taken a liking to you.”

  “Two jobs, Grace?” her father asked.

  “Is everything okay?” Sarah asked.

  “Sweetheart,” her mom said. “Tell us what’s going on.”

  “Hey, Grace.” Whitney appeared to her right. “It’s time.”

  Grace blew out a breath. “I’m sorry, everyone. I know I have a lot to explain, but—” What could she say? She’d based the past six months of her life on false hope, had lied to the people she loved most, and was now no better off than she was when she set out on this journey.

  Her mom grabbed her hand and held her with a determined gaze.

  “Whatever it is, Grace—no matter what—we are on your side. I’m beginning to think we haven’t been the best at showing that. But you and Sarah come first. Always. So whatever happens on camera tonight—whatever happens tomorrow—we’re in your corner. All of us.”

  Her mom nodded toward the opposite end of the room, and Grace turned to see Jeremy standing alone behind the bar, his eyes fixed on her. The rest of the wedding party was making their way down the stairs as well, ready to watch what was sure to be a train wreck of epic proportions.

  Whitney tapped gently on her shoulder, and Grace pulled her eyes from Jeremy’s, feeling their connection sever with a deep ache.

  “I have to go,” Grace said to the table. “Thanks for coming—all of you.”

  And then she let Whitney lead her to the end of the bar opposite Jeremy, where her small crew had set up lighting and two barstools, one for Whitney, the interviewer, and one for Grace, the supposed star of the show.

  “If it means anything at all,” Whitney said quietly as she affixed the small microphone to the top of Grace’s dress, “Jeremy only told me what he did because I pushed him, because he was so worried about you—about what I’d done without thinking how it would affect anyone but me. I was jealous and selfish, and thought I could win Jeremy back if I could patch things up between you and Mark. I may be a lot of things,” she said, “but I don’t want to turn into someone who ruins people’s lives to get what she wants. Jeremy made me see that.” Whitney’s voice shook slightly, and Grace had trouble reconciling this with the poised, controlled, on-air personality that was Whitney Gaines, WBN meteorologist. “But he loves you,” she added. “That’s why he told me about Mark.”

  Grace swallowed back the threat of tears. “Did he tell you that? That he loved me?”

  Whitney nodded. “Weeks ago,” she said.

  “That’s funny,” Grace added. “Because he never told me.”

  Whitney sat on the stool next to Grace and attached her own mic to the collar of her simple, cap-sleeve blue dress. Whitney, the controlled professional—and Grace, the seemingly always hot mess. Something had to change. That was the point of the cleanse: her and Jeremy getting to know each other in a way she never had with another man. If these past six months had taught her anything, it was that she wasn’t going to be a hot mess anymore. But she was still waiting for some sign from the universe…something that said, This. This is your moment to take back the wheel and steer your life where you want it to go.

  She thought that moment was falling in love with Jeremy. Now she wasn’t so sure.

  Whitney let out a breath. “Maybe he hasn’t said the right words, but look at everything he’s done in the past three months since he met you. I messed up. I let a good thing go because I thought I could find better. But you—”

  “Thank you,” Grace interrupted. “For saying all that. I just— I need to focus on getting through this broadcast for now.”

  Because a book could promise that everything would be okay in six months, but the book didn’t know her, who she was and what kind of crap was swirling in the tornado of her day-to-day existence. But she could start focusing on now. She could take the wheel from here on out and stop letting others drive.

  The lights went on, and the camera guy directly in front of them held up his hand…

  “We’re live in five, four, three, two—” But he only mouthed one.

  There they were, live, with the whole city watching.

  Grace held it tog
ether for the easy part—questions about the book, the author, and how Grace decided to do the cleanse in the first place.

  “I’d just gone through another bad breakup,” Grace answered, and Whitney offered a commiserating laugh. “And I decided I needed a different approach to my love life—to life in general. I’d heard of the book. I’d seen Suzanne Summerville on a couple of high-profile talk shows, and I don’t know. I’ve never been one for fads, but this approach just seemed like the right fit: cut out all of the toxins in my life and focus on the basics of getting to know myself and maybe, if I was lucky, getting to know someone else.”

  Whitney nodded. “And you did get to know someone else. Didn’t you?”

  Whitney didn’t have to mention Jeremy. Anyone who’d been following along on social media knew who he was and that the two had decided to date exclusively and to air their $25,000 kiss tonight.

  Grace nodded and bit her lip, unable to suppress a smile at the memory of Jeremy sitting down at her table, not far from where she was right now, to tell her he wanted in for the long haul. He wanted to wait for her. And he had.

  “But I learned something,” Grace said. “I learned that no matter how much I cut out of my life, whether it’s sex or frivolous spending or…or dairy—God, I miss cheese—that it doesn’t guarantee everything else will be perfect. I gave up a lot these past six months, and I’m not sure I’m any better off for it.”

  She was glad for the bright lights, that she couldn’t see Jeremy if he was nearby, because despite what happened tonight, she didn’t want to hurt him. It wasn’t like she’d fallen out of love with him in the past couple of hours. She’d just learned that there was no such thing as the perfect relationship.

  “Well, folks,” Whitney said. “I know you’re on the edge of your seats waiting for Grace’s final minutes of her cleanse. But we’re going to throw it back to the studio for sports and tonight’s feature story. We’ll return at the end of the broadcast with what you’ve all been waiting for. I’m Whitney Gaines with Grace Bailey, and we’ll see you soon.”