She held the spoon out to him. “Taste it. It’s not too hot.”
He shifted so he boxed her in against the countertop. Her sharply indrawn breath was music to his ears. Her ragged sigh as he snagged the spoon and licked it clean, all the while staring at her mouth, had him leaning close and capturing her lips, savoring the combination of herbs, spices, garlic, and Grace. His head spun from the delectable delicacy he sampled.
Craving another taste, he nibbled on the fullness of her bottom lip before soothing the spot with the tip of his tongue and gorging himself with another mind-blowing kiss. She was warm, willing, and ripe for the picking. He needed air. With a swift kiss to the end of her nose, he drew in a deep breath and rested his forehead against hers.
“Hi.”
She sighed. “Hi yourself.”
“You kept me up last night,” he said, sliding his hands up and down her arms, encouraged by way she shivered. “Cold?”
She shook her head. “I thought of you while I was cooking last night.”
“Did you?” He slipped his hands into the back pockets of her jeans and tugged. She tumbled against him and sighed.
“When I finally hit the pillow, so tired I couldn’t see straight, I couldn’t get you out of my head.”
“She fell asleep in church.”
Joe’s deep voice had Grace jolting and Pat moving his hands from her pockets to her generous hips. He figured a smart man like Joe would figure out he was interested in Grace; besides, Joe owed him for removing the black, lacy evidence last night.
Joe nodded and opened the freezer. “Dan’s filling the cooler for the game later. Thought I’d bring the ice out.”
Pat looked over his shoulder at her father, noting the grin on the man’s face. “I was getting there. Grace needed my help.”
Joe grabbed two bags of ice and drawled, “Taste testing?”
“Quit teasing Patrick, Pop.”
The sound of a car door and voices had Joe looking out the back door and Patrick reluctantly releasing Grace. “I’ll be back for another taste,” he promised, staring down at her.
“Smart man,” her father said.
Before Grace could think of a snappy comeback, the screen door slammed and her father was gone. “He always manages to have the last word.”
“My mom’s like that,” Pat told her. “Used to drive me crazy.”
“And now?”
“I don’t get home as often as I’d like to. My baby sister’s been bugging me to visit my namesake—her youngest son, Patrick. My mom’s birthday’s coming up in September, but I may be going home for a quick visit in between.”
“Is New York like Columbus?”
“No,” he answered, putting the lid on the pot for her, and taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “It’s bigger, louder. The layout and buildings look totally different—want to go with me?”
“To Brooklyn?”
“Sure.” As soon as he suggested it, he ran with the idea, needing her to agree. “You’ll be doing me a favor if you come with me.”
“I will?”
“Yeah, between our ma, Grania, Maeve, and Kelly, there is always a single woman waiting to meet me. I’d rather bring someone I want to spend time with.”
“Me?” She sounded breathless.
“Yeah. So what do you say?”
“Maybe. When are we talking?”
“I don’t know, but it has to be soon.”
Grace was watching him closely when she asked, “Family emergency?”
He sighed. “Yeah. I talked to my brother on the phone while you guys were at church today. Sounds like Ma’s got a boyfriend.”
“And you want to meet him?”
Patrick grinned. “Hell yeah. Will you think about going with me?”
“Yes. Let me get through today first, OK?”
“OK.”
“Do you miss Brooklyn?”
“At times,” he admitted. “I love the parades around the holidays—especially the St. Patrick’s Day parade.”
“Your namesake?” she teased.
“My patron saint.”
“Ah, a good Irish Catholic boy.” When she lifted the lid for one more stir, her T-shirt slid off her shoulder.
Thinking of nibbling his way from her shoulder to her fingertips, he shook his head. “Not as often as I should be.” He’d call his mom tonight, no more putting it off; besides, knowing his mom was worried about him added another layer to the guilt.
As if she could sense there was a deeper worry, she set the spoon on the stove top and the lid on the pot. “Sometimes when we try to be all things to all people, we mess up—big time.”
He knew Grace’s mother had died in a car crash years before but not much else. “Sounds like you’ve been in my shoes.”
“It was a tough decision for Pop to hire outside the family to find someone to do the office work.”
He lifted one of her hands and studied the back of it before turning it over. “Your old job?”
She snatched her hand away. “What makes you ask that?”
He didn’t blame her for being irritated with him; he’d been known to irritate people he cared about. “I’ve known Meg for a couple of years. She and Cait are the handymen in the family. You’re the brains that used to run the office and keep the books balanced.”
Surprise flickered in her eyes. “Meg said that?”
“Sure did,” he told her. “Although she was spitting mad at the time because the high schooler they hired deleted the schedule template you’d created.”
Her eyes widened and her hands flew to her breast. “When? Why didn’t they tell me? I can try to recover the document and fix things.”
“I’m not sure.”
“Great. Now I feel like a traitor and as if I abandoned them.”
“Didn’t you leave them with the accounting and inventory system you’d created?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“And didn’t you color code and label the files so that a fifth grader could locate whatever documents your dad needed?”
Her gaze narrowed at him. “How do you know that?”
He laughed this time. “Dan was on file duty a few months ago because the fifth high school student they’d hired had just quit—”
Grace yanked a chair out from the table and plopped onto it. “Five replacements?”
He shrugged. “I think they’re up to seven by now.”
“Why didn’t they just hire an adult?”
“Don’t know,” he said, but he had an idea that it came down to not being able to pay one the going rate, given Joe’s propensity for hiring part-time after-school help. “Have you asked them?”
The guilty look on her face had him pulling out the chair next to her and taking her hand in his. “Look. I didn’t say anything to make you feel bad. It was just a question.”
She swallowed and stared down at their hands. “I’ve been too wrapped up in my new job to ask how things were going.”
“Have they said anything to intentionally make you feel guilty or bad?”
Her gaze lifted to meet his. Worry was replacing the guilt in her eyes. “No.”
“Then they don’t blame you, because you did everything you could to make sure they could continue doing business as usual after you left.”
“I can’t believe they didn’t call me.”
Pat sighed. He needed to get her thinking about something else. “That’s what my ma always says whenever I call her.”
Grace’s eyes were the key to her thoughts. They softened with understanding. “You feel guilty that you moved away and guiltier whenever she reminds you it’s been awhile since you phoned. Makes sense why you put off calling home.”
He squeezed her hand. “No one else in my family understands. Why is it that you do?”
She eased her hand free and rose to check the sauce. “I’m betting no one else in your family has moved out of Brooklyn, have they?”
He shrugged. “We’re the bla
ck sheep that have moved away from everyone we should be holding near and dear to our hearts.”
“We had different dreams that led us away from home.”
“And needed the freedom to make decisions and a life for ourselves,” he added.
“Exactly.” She set the spoon down and turned off the burner. “It would have been easier to stay—less guilt—but then I would have always wondered what it would have been like, fulfilling my dream of living in the big city.”
“Until it would have become the only thing you wanted.” Patrick stood. “Making everything else seem unimportant—even though it wasn’t.”
“It shouldn’t make us feel so guilty,” Grace whispered.
Pat ran a hand over the softness of her hair, sliding it around her neck. “We do that all by ourselves.”
Her troubled gaze lifted to his. “Why can’t we stop?”
He snorted. “Damned if I know.”
“Maybe we can help one another figure out a way to be everything our families need while still pursuing our dreams,” Grace suggested.
“Sounds like a plan.”
“I’m going to find out if they need help in the office while I’m on vacation.”
He sighed. “Less time for you to spend with me.”
“But you’ll be at the firehouse.”
“True,” he agreed. “I guess I could call my ma.”
“I wish I could.” Grace’s voice had dropped to a whisper again.
Pat eased her head onto his shoulder and let his hand stroke up and down her back until the tension eased. “Close your eyes,” he told her. “Then imagine her smiling face.”
“All right.”
“Tell her what’s on your mind and in your heart; she’s still listening.”
Grace lifted her head and swiped at the tears. “How did you know just what to say?”
He caught one of her tears on the tip of his finger. “I’ve been talking to my dad since the day my uncle Bill showed up at school with soot on his face and tears in his eyes.”
“He was a firefighter too?”
Pat nodded. “I come from a long line of firefighters—both sides of the family.”
“Where was your mom?”
Pat wondered at the ache that still filled him whenever he remembered that day. “She went into premature labor with the youngest—my brother, Johnny, when she heard that the roof caved in on my father’s fire company.”
“Yet you and your brothers all followed in his footsteps?”
“Tommy, Mike, and I were old enough to understand that it was his time. Fate and destiny have more of a say in your life than you realize.” He pressed his lips to the curve of her brow. “You know?”
Grace’s gaze locked on his. “I’ve seen it happen with first Meg and then Cait. Neither one of them were looking for love—but love found them.”
“And your dad?”
She chuckled softly. “Mary’s the best thing to happen to him in years. I just worry that he won’t do anything to make it permanent.”
“I’d say things are pretty solid between those two.” He sifted his fingers through the hair curving against her jaw. It felt like corn silk. “Why mess with a good thing?”
“Because they belong together, not going back and forth between two houses, spending stolen moments together.”
“Sounds like one of the romance novels Grania reads.”
“Everybody’s here,” Joe called out.
“Is the food ready?” Jack asked from where he stood on the other side of the door.
Patrick stared at Grace and wondered if she too sensed that their conversation had done more to cement their growing relationship than the heart-shattering kisses they’d shared.
“Yeah, but we’re playing first, remember?”
“I’m hungry,” Jack grumbled.
“Grace made enough to feed an army,” he answered before turning back to hug Grace close, promising, “we’ll talk more later.”
“After the game?”
“How about that ride—down to the river, wasn’t it?”
“I’d like that.”
“It’s a date then.”
Grace’s smile had him reaffirming his decision from yesterday. It still held—she was a keeper.
Chapter 12
The grunt that followed the impact of two male bodies vying for the soccer ball had Grace biting her lip. “Was that move legal?”
Her sister Meg shook her head. “You’re not supposed to tackle the player with the ball from behind.”
“Then why did Patrick just do that?”
Meg laughed. “I guess he wanted to take the ball.”
The ball shot past them down the improvised soccer field. “So do you know all of the guys’ names?”
Meg turned to look at Grace and smiled. “Nicknames and last names. Today, they’re only playing six on six. The number keeps changing depending on which guys are off shift at the firehouse.” She pointed to the dark-haired man in the goal. “That’s Finney. The defender next to your Patrick is Sledge.”
Grace sighed; she liked the way that sounded—hers. “Is Sledge his last name?”
“Nickname. They just smile whenever I ask what it’s short for,” Meg said. “Jimmy’s holding down the midfield, while Mike and Bear are forwards.”
“The home team looks a little young—except for my handsome brothers-in-law and Mitch.” Grace paused, then asked, “Where is Honey B. today?”
Meg smiled. “Visiting her mom.”
Grace tilted her head to one side. “The three other guys look familiar. Should I know them?”
“The tallest one with the dark hair is Jimmy Doyle—”
“I thought he was away at school.”
“Graduated in May.”
“Where does the time go? So I guess the guy with the fair hair and football build is his best friend Tommy Hawkins?”
Meg’s smile lit her entire face. “I’m not the only one who’s got a soft spot for those two. They’ve been working with Cait whenever they’re home on break.”
“And who’s that?” Grace pointed to the man holding down midfield.
“Seriously? You don’t recognize him?”
“Broad shoulders, nice build—probably half a dozen years younger than me…I can’t place the face.”
“Tim McCormack.”
“No way!” Grace got up to walk closer to the sidelines. Turning back, she asked, “Kate and Peggy’s cousin? Skinny little Timmy?”
Meg smiled. “One and the same. Time flies and boys grow up when they’re away at college.”
“I’m starting to feel old.”
“It’s happens to the best of us,” Meg said, walking over to stand beside her sister.
When two bodies collided going for the ball, Grace grimaced. “Why do guys feel the need use their bodies like a weapon?”
“I guess it feeds an inner savage need all men have,” Meg answered.
“Hmmm. Mitch isn’t half bad as a goalie,” Grace said and then drew in her breath. “Wow, Dan’s got some moves on him. He just dribbled the ball around Patrick’s teammate like he was standing still.”
Meg’s soft smile as she watched her husband finesse the ball and kick it into the improvised goal—between two folding chairs—and score had Grace grinning ear to ear.
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be cheering for the visiting team?” Meg asked, walking back to the table.
Grace followed, deep in thought, wondering if she had found someone to fill the missing piece of her life—a partner, a friend, a lover. “Meg, when did you know Dan was the one?”
Her sister looked back at her. “When I fell off the fence and he caught me.”
“Oh, so it was love at first sight then?”
Meg sat down and leaned back against the picnic table. “It might have been lust, but love sounds better.”
Their laughter had Cait wandering over to sit with them. “Something funny?”
“Lust at first sight.”
>
Cait looked over her shoulder at the men, smiling when Jack waved to her. “Mmmm. It does have its benefits.”
“The lovebug bites us in different places and at different times,” Meg told her. “But one thing’s for sure—once you’ve been bitten, you can’t imagine life without him.”
A shout from the field had Meg whirling around. “Cait.”
Her sister ran to the sideline as Dan helped Jack to his feet. Grace watched Cait breathe a sigh of relief as she walked back. “He won’t admit when his leg is bothering him,” she said quietly, “but a blind woman could tell.”
“He’s fine,” Meg reassured her as curses and the sound of bodies slamming bodies filled the air. “Oh my God! I thought this was a game?”
“Looks like they’re out for blood,” Grace said as one of the players clutched his leg and started shouting at the others.
Cait shook her head. “Men and their pride,” she grumbled. “Do you think Mike’s OK?”
The play had stopped while a heated discussion and a lot of shoving took place. Grace sighed. “You’d think soccer was serious or something.”
Patrick stepped in the middle of the fracas while Grace cringed. “I guess somebody has to be Switzerland.” He helped his friend to his feet but kept his arm around Mike’s back. When they walked toward the women, Grace got up and met them halfway. “Do you want to sit out for a few minutes?”
Mike shook his head. “Nah, Paddy here is helping me walk off the cramp.”
Grace’s eyes widened at the grass stain and raw scrape slashing across Mike’s swelling knee. “Maybe Jack should look at it.”
Mike and Pat laughed, then Mike said, “He’s the one who tried to take me out of the game.”
Grace looked at Cait, who just shook her head. Grace just had to know: “Weren’t you the one with that illegal slide tackle?”
Mike tried to feign a look of innocence, but Grace wasn’t buying it. “You should always play fair,” Grace reminded him.
“Ah.” Mike limped toward her, leaning heavily on Patrick. “So all’s fair in love and war?”
Patrick reached up to smack his friend in the back of the head. “Quit looking at my girl like that.”
Mike went from limping to hopping. “Your girl? Damn.”
Welcome Back to Apple Grove Page 12
