He straightened to his full height, puffed out his broad chest, and pounded on it with a fist. “I’m a man. Men are not adorable.”
“Mommy calls Daddy ’dorable all the time,” Joey said, patting Patrick’s jean-clad leg.
“Jeez,” Dan hissed. “Nothing is sacred once you become a parent.”
Patrick grinned and nodded. “I hear the most interesting things from my nieces and nephews…out of the mouths of babes.”
Grace realized that he’d glossed over the fact that she thought he was adorable, but she knew he’d been touched by her words if those intense glances he shot her way every few minutes were any indication. Deciding to test her theory, she took a step closer to where he stood and watched for a reaction. His body tensed. Oh my!
For whatever reason, this handsome hunk of fireman was interested in her—the youngest of the Mulcahy sisters, the only one who didn’t know how to use power tools or a plumber’s wrench. The black sheep of the family, the only one who’d left home to make a life for herself—the only one who wasn’t wand slim.
Maybe he was thinking about something else and it wasn’t a reaction to her nearness. Needing to find out, she moved to stand beside him and touched his arm. The muscles in his forearm jumped beneath her fingertips. She looked down at his arm until she heard his sharply indrawn breath. She glanced up and felt her heart skip a beat watching the desire swirling in his amber eyes. Desire for her.
“Patrick, I—”
“Grace, can you—” he said at the same time.
They laughed together and the tense moment eased into something she hadn’t experienced yet in her life. He was focused solely on her, as if she was the most important person in the universe. The heady feeling threatened to topple her resolve not to get involved with anyone until she was good and ready to.
“I’m ready,” she whispered. Good Lord, she hadn’t meant to say that!
His eyebrow shot up. He bent his head until it was close to hers, and whispered, “If you knew what I wanted to do to you right now—”
“Am I interrupting?”
Meg’s question had Patrick clearing his throat. “I, uh, no. How’s little Deidre?” As easily as that, he’d distracted Meg.
What was wrong with her? She’d known Patrick for a couple of years and had shared more than one meal with him over at Meg and Dan’s house. They’d always enjoyed one another’s company, but there hadn’t been this sizzle before. Why hadn’t they noticed one another on this level until now?
He glanced her way, and sparks went zinging just beneath her skin. She fanned herself, but her heated reaction to the man just wouldn’t go away.
***
Patrick was listening to Meg talk about Deidre but was staring at the pulse point at the base of Grace’s ivory throat. He had to get her alone for five minutes. A clever man could do a lot in five minutes—given the opportunity. Too bad he couldn’t think of anything to say. His mind had short-circuited from the moment their hands had touched.
“Gracie?”
Joe Mulcahy was walking across the yard toward them. “Can you and Pat give me hand with something in the barn?”
If Grace thought the request was unusual, she didn’t act as though it was. Personally, Patrick had lived with a meddling Irishwoman until he’d moved to Ohio—no one could hold a candle to his mom when it came to sticking her nose into other peoples’ business.
He stared at Joe until the man had to look away. He was up to something, but Pat wouldn’t find out what it was if he didn’t play along. Grace seemed to be clueless.
“Sure, Pop. What’s up?”
When Pat didn’t move fast enough, she looked over her shoulder and asked, “Are you coming?”
He had to bite his lip to keep from uttering the words that came to mind. “Uh, yeah. Right behind you.”
He sprinted to catch up. Joe and Grace were already in the barn, walking toward the back. “I was sure I’d left it here,” Joe was saying while he and Grace poked through piles of what looked like car parts to him.
“Are you looking for the grill?” Grace asked. “I thought you kept it on the other side of the barn, by the building supplies.”
Joe looked up when Pat entered the barn. “I used to keep it there, but it seemed easier to store it here.”
Grace was shaking her head and looking behind crates stacked along one wall. “I didn’t think you’d want anyone coming this close to the Model A now that it’s been restored.”
“I don’t,” Joe answered. “See that you don’t bump into it.”
“Yes, Pop.” Grace moved further along the wall.
“Joe?” Dan called from the doorway. “Cait’s on the phone for you.”
“Coming.” Joe hesitated and stared from Patrick to Grace and back again. “You two keep looking. This call might take a while.”
And that’s when Patrick knew he was being reeled in and set up, but Grace wasn’t going along with her father’s plans. “Oh, can I talk to her first? I just have a quick question for her—”
Joe was already halfway to the door. “She’ll be over later. You can talk to her then.”
“But I—” Grace began, but when her father passed by the tarp-covered antique car he and her brother-in-law had lovingly restored and kept going, she whirled around and glared at Pat. “What’s going on here?”
He held his hands up and struggled not to smile. “I have no idea.”
She stalked toward him and drilled her finger into the middle of his chest. “You’re lying.”
He clenched his jaw and tamped down the instinctive reaction those words always caused—like a match to a stick of dynamite—but he refused to lose his temper with her. “I don’t lie.”
Her face paled and her hand dropped to her side. “I’m sorry, Patrick—it’s just that I’ve been…” Her words trailed off and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what she’d been about to say. Someone had lied to Grace, someone important enough to have hurt her.
The need to pound the living daylights out of whoever had left such a deep mark on Grace filled him. It was a struggle to keep silent, but he sensed that his reaction to her words was important.
He wanted to reach out and touch her but shoved his hands into his pockets instead. “There are usually two reasons people lie.”
Grace’s eyes filled. “There’s never a reason to lie.”
He took his hands out of his pockets and clenched them at his sides. He almost lost the battle against his will not to touch her—yet.
She wiped the tears with the backs of her hands and lifted her chin, daring him to contradict her.
He eased a half step closer, all the while watching her expressive eyes. “In my experience,” he said slowly, “people lie because they are afraid to tell the truth for fear of hurting someone’s feelings.”
He pressed a finger to her lips and felt their trembling in his gut. Need filled him, want nearly had him on his knees, begging. He felt his throat constrict as desire for Grace slashed through him. Strengthening his resolve, he said, “And they lie because they don’t care enough to tell someone the truth.”
His mother had been right when she’d told him that the eyes were the windows to the soul. He saw so much in the grass-green eyes watching him. A long-ago hurt she struggled with—from her childhood when she’d lost her mother or more recent than that? Had the guy she’d brought to Meg and Dan’s the last time he’d seen her done something to hurt her?
A tiny spark of hope flickered in the depths of her eyes. He moved to close the gap between them. He wrapped his arms around her and fought not to groan aloud as her soft curves fit against him. Did fate and destiny have more in mind for him now that he’d stopped running from his past? Reveling in the feel of Grace Mulcahy in his arms, he tried to remember the snippets of conversation he’d heard but couldn’t remember how long she’d dated the guy or when it had ended. Maybe it was because he hadn’t been attracted to her too-thin form. But this new womanly versio
n caught him by the throat and wouldn’t let go.
“I don’t lie, Grace. My mom taught us not to, and no matter how much what I have to say might hurt someone, I won’t gloss over the truth, not even for a woman with eyes the color of shamrocks and lips begging me to kiss them.”
Grace slid her hands up his back and over his shoulders, pulling him flush against her. He felt her generous curves pressing against him and had to close his eyes; he didn’t want to scare her away with the depth of the need raking through him.
“I’m not begging you to kiss me,” she mumbled against his collarbone.
He eased her back and locked gazes with her. “Oh no?”
Her mouth curved into a smile. “Begging’s not the same as wanting.” She pressed her lips to his jaw and he groaned.
“Wanting could lead to begging, Grace.” He slid his hand down to the base of her spine and slowly up again, delighting in the way her body quivered beneath his touch.
He stroked his hands along her shoulders and down to her wrists, manacling them. “Will you let me kiss you, Grace?”
He wanted so much more than a kiss but would be damned if he’d give in to his body’s clamoring like a teenager. He’d savor every step of his seduction of Grace Mulcahy.
When she realized he’d captured her hands as effectively as if he’d handcuffed them, her eyes changed to a deeper hue as desire and want filled them.
“May I?” He brushed his thumbs against the underside of her wrists and felt her pulse pounding there.
She tilted her face up. Green eyes glowing, she whispered, “Please.”
He fought against the urge to feast and gently brushed his lips tentatively across her mouth. The sexy sound she made in the back of her throat made it hard to go slow. He fitted his mouth to hers, kissing her softly. With the tip of his tongue he traced the fullness of her bottom lip, adding kindling to the fire he was building between them.
He nibbled where he’d licked, and her sharply indrawn breath told him she was right there with him.
When her tongue tangled with his, he lost all perspective and let the kiss take them to the edge of desperation. When her hands started shoving his T-shirt up, his brain kicked in and he broke the kiss and their intimate connection. They stared at one another, though neither one spoke at first. His conscience wrestled with what he wanted to do and what he should do. Needing to catch his breath and struggling for control, he rasped, “Your father would hang me from the yardarm on the ship’s mast in Mr. McCormack’s field.”
Grace laughed.
He liked the husky sound of it. Running his hands across her shoulders and down to her hands, he grasped them, lifting them up to his lips. Pressing a kiss to the backs of her hands, he confessed, “From the moment I saw you standing on the back porch with a ray of sunlight setting fire to the red highlights in your hair, I knew I wanted to kiss you.”
When she remained silent, he added, “But I had no idea you’d set me on fire.” Holding her hands against his heart, he told her, “I’m going to want another taste of you, Grace. Are you going to make me beg?”
Her lilting laughter filled the barn and his heart. “I’ve only got today and part of tomorrow. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get back.”
Patrick was determined not to let her forget him when he’d only just found her. “Dan challenged me and a couple of the guys from my firehouse to a game of soccer next weekend, but the day’s still up in the air.”
Grace was watching him closely when she said, “Maybe I could visit Pop again next weekend.”
He chuckled. “I have a feeling your father and Meg, and maybe your other sister, might be counting on that.”
***
Grace had suspected something was up but hadn’t been paying close enough attention to catch all of her meddling family’s telltale signals—just her father’s. “Are you angry with them?”
“No. I come from a long line of matchmakers, but I have a feeling you weren’t in on it.”
“I wasn’t,” she said. “But I’m glad they meddled.”
She laid her head against his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart. Grace hadn’t expected romance when she’d left Columbus. Was she reacting to Patrick because she was lonely, or was it because he’d been turned on by her curves instead of put off, as she’d expected him to be? Although no one from her hometown commented on her weight, she could see the speculative looks in their eyes, leaving her to wonder if they were mentally tallying up the number of pounds she’d gained. People in the city didn’t meddle—just one more thing she loved about living there—but then again, people in the city weren’t as openly friendly as people in her hometown.
Patrick’s hand stroked up and down her back, soothing those worries until they evaporated under the hypnotic warmth of his touch. Maybe I’m scared. Patrick was the walking, talking version of her childhood dream of a man who worked with his hands, liked children, and was handsome as sin. She wasn’t sure yet, but she’d bet her family’s farm that he had a heart of pure gold.
But I’m not looking for a man!
He slid his hand higher. Cradling the back of her neck, he tipped her face up. His eyes darkened with desire that called to her, pulling at her until she realized it didn’t matter that she hadn’t been looking—he was real and he was here.
He leaned down and kissed her until her eyes crossed and she melted in his arms.
“Did you two find that grill yet?”
They broke apart and started to laugh. Dan shook his head. “Good thing Joe asked me to find out what was taking so long.”
“Since you’re here,” Pat said, “why don’t you tell us where he actually hid the grill?”
Dan’s grin was infectious. “On the other side of the barn—he’d never keep anything like that by the Model A.”
Grace tugged on Pat’s hand. “Come on. I know right where it is.” With a glance over her shoulder, she called out, “Tell Pop his plan is working like a charm.”
Her brother-in-law’s laughter confirmed their suspicions.
“Let’s get that grill,” Pat said. “I’m starving.”
Chapter 6
The scent of meat grilling carried over to where Grace stood beneath one of the oak trees in her family’s backyard. Drawing in a deep breath, she sighed. “I’ve missed this.” Turning to Meg, she asked, “Did you ever lie awake at night and imagine yourself as a mom?”
Meg’s smile bloomed slowly as she cuddled baby Deidre in her arms. “No, I’d spent too many years trying to be a mom to you and Cait after mom died.”
Interested, Grace urged her sister to tell her about it.
“I was going to take over the business from Pop and maybe start tracking down our cousins and making them an offer they couldn’t refuse.” The sounds of deep male voices drifted toward where they stood. “But then Dan came to town, turned my life upside down and inside out, and well…here I am.”
Watching the twins whooping it up, running in a circle like they were little wild things and the grill was their bonfire, Grace couldn’t understand her sister’s serenity. “I guess we never really know what life has in store for us.”
Meg put her arm around Grace and squeezed her close. “Fate, dear sister,” she said. “And destiny.”
“Serious talk for such a beautiful afternoon.”
Grace grinned as Meg smiled and said, “Cait! You made it.”
Deidre held out her arms to the middle Mulcahy sister and was passed off to Cait’s waiting arms. “I just had a few things to catch up on this morning. Jack’s bringing the potato salad.”
“Looking for me, gorgeous?” Jack Gannon set a large bowl on the table behind the sisters and wrapped his arms around his wife and their niece. Deidre was babbling a mile a minute but stopped when he kissed his wife. From the way she giggled, Grace knew the little one was used to getting her share of her uncle’s kisses too.
Jack pressed his lips to Deidre’s forehead and snagged the little one from C
ait’s arms. “My turn.” Settled on his hip, the two walked over toward the group of men—tall and small—standing around the grill.
With Meg in the middle, the sisters linked arms and listened as Cait caught them up on the latest news from Honey B. and Rhonda.
“So we’ll have even more donations for Love Locks.” Grace couldn’t be happier. “I’m so glad Kate talked me into making that appointment with Honey B. to straighten out the mess I’d made of my hair.”
Cait snorted. “That’s what you get for snipping while you were sipping.”
Once she started giggling, Grace couldn’t stop. She ended up brushing away tears from the laughter. It feels so good to laugh like that.
“Did you check out the town website this morning? The pics turned out great.”
Grace heard Cait’s question but was distracted by the deep rumbling of male voices again.
***
Pat watched the way the sisters linked arms and started talking all at once. They made a solid unit—like he and his brothers. Now he sounded like the oldest of his brothers, Tommy. Not gonna go there. He shoved those thoughts deep.
The ladies’ laughter floated toward him and, like a tantalizing scent on the breeze, distracted him. They were quite a trio, heart-stoppingly beautiful. Cait and Grace were tall, with the same gorgeous green eyes and strawberry-blonde hair, and although they used to have the same slender figures, Grace’s had filled out to bodacious proportions while she’d been living in Columbus. The petite firebrand in the middle, Meg, had auburn hair and bright blue eyes.
It was crazy to think a blind date with Honey B. had brought him here. How he let Snelling talk him into signing up for that online dating service he couldn’t really remember. It might have been an ARI—alcohol-related incident. Whatever the case, Honey B. had been his intended date that night. To his surprise and approval, she’d shown up with reinforcements, Dan and Meg, to watch her back, and he’d ended up making new friends that had filled in part of the gap leaving New York City and his family had caused.
Welcome Back to Apple Grove Page 6
