Saving Grace
Wild Rose Series
Book One
By
Scarlett Jade
The rule was simple—don't fall in love with a student. Drake had never had that problem—not until he met the buxom brunette in the bar. Grace was one of a kind, virginal but far from chaste. When she wanted him to teach more than history, he was left with a choice that could ruin them both.
Grace was always the good girl, until she met her wild best friend, Christina, who pushed her out of her shell. She fell head over heels for the sexy, young college professor, but when everything shattered around her, she was left with figuring out who she really was. Her journey led her somewhere she never imagined, but along the way she learned that even the wildest roses have to put down roots in a place they can call home.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
Copyright 2014 © Scarlett Jade
Published by Beau Coup Publishing
http://beaucoupllcpublishing.com
Cover by JRA Stevens
For Beau Coup Publishing
© Gntrabucchi | Dreamstime.com - Pink Wild Rose Blossom Postcard Photo
© Konradbak | Dreamstime.com - Sensual woman kissing her husband
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
Chapter One
Grace stared at the prestigious grounds of Yale with pride. Her father touched her shoulder and she glanced up at him with a smile. “Yeah, Dad?”
Pastor Archie Evans smiled back down at her. “Your mom and I are proud of you, Gracie.”
Grace winced at the babyish nickname but grinned anyway. “Thanks, guys.” Her mother, Annie, pulled her into another smothering embrace. Grace turned her head out of her mother's ample bosom and sucked in air. “Mom, you're killing me.”
Annie chuckled and pulled back from the embrace, beaming at her daughter. “I always knew we made the right decision when we adopted you, Grace.”
Grace felt moisture fill her hazel eyes, and she threw herself into her mother's arms again. “Oh, Mom, I'm glad you guys did too. You've given me more than I would’ve ever had otherwise.”
Her father patted her shoulder awkwardly again. “Aw, Gracie, it was God's will. We couldn't have children of our own, so we adopted the girl with the biggest heart at the orphanage.”
Grace closed her eyes and sighed. I'm always the one with the biggest heart. I just wish for once Dad would say he’d picked me because I was the prettiest. But we all know that's a major lie, and God forbid a preacher tell the biggest lie ever. I'm cute at best. She was shaken from her pity party by a gentle push from her mother.
“Did you hear me, Grace?” Annie's soft face glanced down into her own. “No, Mom, sorry. I was thinking,” Grace admitted.
“Well, I was saying before I was so rudely ignored,” Annie laughed, then continued, “That your dad and I need to get back. He has to finish the sermon for Sunday. Remember, honey, we're only four hours away if you need us. We're there for you if you get homesick or something.”
Grace sheepishly smiled and nodded. “I know, Mom. The congregation has to come first.”
Archie shook his head. “Now, Gracie, you know that's not true.”
Grace shrugged. “Dad, it's okay. You have to take care of the flock. This little lamb is ready to go off on her own.”
“God willing,” he stated, his aging face full of concern, “not into the wolf's den.”
Grace laughed, her eyes lighting up and full mouth turning up at the corners. “Dad, I don't think you ever have to worry about a wolf being interested in this little lamb.”
Archie shifted, sliding a finger into the collar of his shirt and pulling it away from his neck. “I know how boys are, Grace. They can be persuasive.”
Grace's laughter tempered and she sighed. “Dad, I never had any guys interested in me in high school. I seriously doubt I have to worry about it now.”
Archie shook his head. “Gracie, plenty of boys were interested.”
Grace rolled her eyes and glanced back at Yale’s glossy green lawn. “Dad, they were interested in me doing their homework for them. Not doing me.”
“Gracie!” he squawked, his pale face going florid. “Language!”
Grace sighed. “Sorry, Dad.”
Annie pulled her into another hug and whispered in her ear, “Never mind, honey. You have fun.”
Grace smiled. “Okay.”
As she was released from her mother's hug, her father swept her petite frame up into an embrace. “Be good, Gracie.”
She sighed and returned the older man’s hug. “Always, Dad.” I'll never have the opportunity to be anything but good. She pulled away and bent to grab her bag. “Well, I'll see you guys later.”
She waved quickly, then caught the handle of her rolling bag. With one final glance over her shoulder at the middle-aged couple she’d known as her parents since age six, she walked up the sidewalk and into the building where she would be living for the next four years.
As she stepped inside a weight slipped off her shoulders and she immediately felt lighter. Not pausing to reflect on the sudden loss of burden, she hurried down the hall and searched for door nine-eighteen, her new home while she studied there.
Going to college had been an easy decision for Grace. She had a 4.0 GPA in high school. She’d taken her SAT in the tenth grade and scored very high. Colleges big and small had offered scholarships, but she’d held out for Yale. It was the one college she’d always dreamed of attending. Her parents had tried to convince her to go to the local community college for two years so she’d be close to home and “safe.”
Grace knew she was safe. Being a size twenty-two and five foot four secured that. True, she had boobs for days, but it was sort of canceled out with long, unruly dark hair and plain features. She didn't dress sexy. She hid her ample assets and her face behind large, tortoise shell glasses, even though she had contacts. It was easier to be the nerd no one looked at than the semi-cute girl no one looked at. It just felt better.
Her parents had given up trying to have children when Annie was forty, deciding that God just didn't have it in His plans for them. They decided to adopt from the system and visited an orphanage in New York City, where Grace had been born. Grace remembered little about her birth family, other than the fact that her mother was Italian and her father was of unknown origin. Annie had suggested maybe he was Italian too, leading to her pretty brown eyes, dark hair, and slightly olive complexion, which clashed so vividly with their own pale skin. Grace would roll her eyes and agree just to make Annie happy. Truth was, she didn't know or care. He was probably a one night stand and never even cared he'd fathered a dumpy nerd.
Grace's birth mother had been into drugs and died from a heroin overdose when she was three years old. She'd been found by paramedics in a pile of dirty clothes. Since no family had been located, Grace was put into an orphanage. She’d spent many days struggling to remember even shreds of her past, but she guessed her brain was just protecting her from herself. In a way she was grateful. She had a good life and parents who loved her. Grace fit in with the
Evans family. She was a safe daughter to have, nothing like other preacher's daughters who went insane. Grace had never even had a proper kiss. Unless you counted an awkward cheek kiss that turned into a half mouth, half cheek sloppy affair from a guy on her math team. Things had seemed sort of promising. She might have had a boyfriend if his friends hadn’t teased him about having a fat girlfriend.
At that point, Grace had been willing to take on the pimply faced nerd just to get a proper kiss. But it was no dice. He went on to date another girl on the math team, Libby Hallwood, a thinner girl with pizza face to match his own. Then there had been the time when the most popular guy in school asked if he could touch her boobs. She had adamantly turned him down, especially since he wanted picture proof he'd touched Grace Evans’ mammoth tits. She couldn't help that the good Lord had blessed her with triple D breasts that came into a room long before she did. If only He had given me a prettier face and less boobs. I think my life would be so much better. At least I'm smart. Smart is better than being pretty. Yup. I'm the smart girl with big boobs that no one wants to date. I'm going to die a virgin.
As she came to a staircase, she sighed and began climbing it to the second floor. Her bag thumped behind her on each step, mimicking the thundering of her heart. I really should try to lose some weight. Screw it. No one is looking anyway. She sighed. Grace tried hard to be optimistic, but the cold reality the four years of high school taught her was that guys liked big boobs—on skinny chicks.
She moved down the pale blue hallway and kept her eyes glued to the doors. Nine-thirteen, nine-fourteen, nine-fifteen, nine-sixteen, nine-seventeen, nine-eighteen...
Loud music blared from inside the room and she winced, sticking a finger in her ear to relieve the throb that pierced her ear drum. Oh Christ, don't tell me this is my roommate...please, Lord, please please please! She begged.
Her hand touched the door knob and she turned it with trepidation. She peeked into the room and grimaced at the view in front of her. A leggy blonde was wearing a hot pink thong and white T-shirt that said, “Wallbanger.” She was blaring music Grace knew her father would condemn straight to hell. Grace stood transfixed, only half of her face in the door as she watched the girl dance. She was singing into her hairbrush and twirling around, her hips moving to a wanton beat. She was curvy in all the right places and insanely beautiful, with perfect features.
Jealousy twined through Grace's heart and she sighed before knocking on the door. May as well get this over with. The blonde paused in dancing and smiled brightly as she noticed Grace peeking in the door.
“Hey!” she started, her smile growing bigger. “Are you Grace?”
Grace nodded. “You're Christina?” Disappointment tinged her voice before she could stop it. She had been hoping for another bookish nerd to roommate with so she could bury herself in her studies and graduate in four years as a psychologist. It seemed like God had other plans.
Christina nodded and hurried to the door to throw it open wide. She propped a hand on her hip and grinned. “Come on in, girl!” Her southern drawl was warm and friendly.
Grace blushed. “Um, you're barely dressed.”
Christina looked down and giggled. “The bits are covered. No one will care!”
Grace blushed harder. “Oh, I see.”
Christina's smile faltered. “Oh shit, you mind. Hey, look, I'm not a lesbo or anything. I just hate clothes! My parents are nudists and, well, I obviously had to wear clothes to come to Yale, right?” She turned and bent to grab a pair of yoga pants, giving Grace a full view of her kibbles and bits. Let's just say anatomy handbooks had nothing on Miss Christina Morgan's pierced parts.
Grace felt her face go into full flame and she averted her eyes quickly. Christina touched her arm a few moments later. “There! My butt is covered. I'm Christina.” She held out a hand and Grace shook it quickly.
“I'm Grace.”
“Has anyone told you that you're seriously adorable?” Christina grinned as she returned to her bags and began pulling clothes out.
Grace shook her head and kicked the door closed absentmindedly. “Do you need glasses?” she quipped.
Christina smirked and hung a shiny, strapless piece of fabric up on a hanger. “No. 20/20 vision here, sweetie.” She hung the hanger up in the closet and turned with a smile on her face. “Let me guess where you come from.”
Grace plopped down on her twin sized bed and hefted her bag up beside her. “Where I come from?” She parroted back.
Christina nodded, a thin finger tapping her full lips. “You're a nun.”
Grace giggled. “No.”
“Witness protection?” Christina asked.
“Definitely no.” Grace giggled at the thought.
“Well, I'm stumped,” Christina finally admitted. “You're definitely uncomfortable with me.”
Grace gulped, a little embarrassed to be called out by a girl she barely knew. “Yeah, a little, maybe.”
“Why?” Christina asked, her face kind and curious.
Grace swallowed. “I'm just not used to...um...well...people like you.”
Christina grinned again and giggled, her braless breasts jiggling in her top. “Honey, no one is used to 'people like me',” she retorted, using air quotes to accentuate her words.
Grace blushed again and glanced down at her bag. “I assumed I'd be put with someone like me,” she finally whispered.
Christina paused in putting another tiny scrap of fabric on a hanger. “Someone like you?”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “I wanted someone safe. So I could study.”
Christina tossed the hanger and shiny fabric on her bed and propped her hands on her hips. “Look here, I might be flamboyant, but I busted my ass to get into Yale, just like you did. You can be smart and still have fun, Grace,” she sniffed.
Grace spluttered, “I-um didn't mean that! I just. I don't know. I'm sorry,” she finished lamely.
“College is about getting new experiences, Grace. Opening your wings and learning to fly. You're gonna meet strange eggs like me all through your life. You may as well get used to it now,” Christina stated.
Grace nodded. “I meant no offense.”
Christina shrugged. “I know you didn't. I still think you’re a nun.”
Grace finally smiled sheepishly. “No, just a preacher's daughter.”
“Oh!” Christina laughed. “That explains it. You think I'm a heathen.”
“No!” Grace shook her head vehemently. “I'm jealous of you,” she admitted. “I wish I could be you. Instead I'm me.” She swept her hand down her full figure and sighed.
“Honey, you're just an hourglass with a few extra minutes. It's more time for a man to love those curves!” Christina giggled as she shimmied her shoulders and her boobs swayed.
Grace blushed again. “No man wants this hourglass.”
Christina snorted. “That's because you've been dealing with little boys. College guys are all about boobs and sex.”
Grace turned crimson, the heat swirling up into her hairline. “I seriously doubt that.”
Christina turned back to her bag. “Well, hang out with me long enough and I'll prove you wrong!”
Grace had no doubts that hanging out with the wild Christina would land her in hot water. The thought was thrilling. She smiled to herself as she unzipped her bag and began pulling out her clothes. She was lost in the meticulous folding of her polos and khakis when Christina snatched her favorite pale pink top from her bag. “Hey!” she squawked, valiantly grabbing for the cotton top.
Christina held it out with disdain. “Oh hell, did you get this from the old lady section of the store? And you wonder why guys aren't salivating over your knockers. Hell, I would run too.”
Grace stood and grabbed the end of her shirt. “Give it back!”
Christina pulled harder. “Oh, hell no. No roommate of mine is going to walk around looking like Martha freaking Stewart.”
Grace held on to the end of the shirt. “There is nothin
g wrong with the way I dress!” she shrieked.
“Sure,” Christina chided, “if you plan on dying without your field being plowed.”
Grace's mouth fell open and she laughed hard. “My field being plowed?” she finally choked out.
Christina took the moment of Grace's uncontrollable laughter to snatch the shirt away. “Yes, your field being plowed. Lucky for you, your new best friend has a sewing machine and knows how to make clothes. We're going to turn you from Grace the nun to Grace having fun.” She held out the polo shirt at arm's length in disgust and sighed. “This shirt needs more than Jesus. It needs professional help.” She tossed it down on her bed and pulled a sewing machine case from under the bed. She pushed some books and papers off her desk and pulled the machine from the case.
Grace frowned as she plopped back on her bed. “Why does a nudist have a sewing machine and know how to make clothes?”
Christina huffed and plugged her sewing machine in. “Because we occasionally venture out in public and I like to sew. I mean, you can sew more than clothes, girl.”
“What are you going to do to my shirt?” Grace cried out as Christina whipped large silver scissors from the depths of a tote bag.
Christina whirled around on her heels and pointed the silver blades at her. “Hush. Pull the rest of your granny wardrobe out. God, if you have granny panties I am officially going to cry.”
Grace pursed her lips. “So what if I do?”
Christina put her hand on her chest and rolled her eyes skyward. “Then we have bigger fish to fry.”
“Why does my underwear matter? It's not like anyone will see it.” Grace felt very sorry for herself again.
Christina hummed as she wielded the silver scissors and sliced the pink material of the top. “Well, there is always a chance, and you should be ready. No man wants to see his grandma's panties when he gets you naked. Talk about ruining the mood.”
Grace tried to peer over Christina's shoulder as she chopped at her top. “What are you doing?”
Saving Grace (Wild Rose Book 1) Page 1
