The Gate to Everything (Once Upon a Dare Book 1)

by Ava Miles

  She gave him her best smile, and he took her hand and kissed it. After he finished his breakfast, he rose and kissed Ella, playing with her little feet and talking baby talk with her, which always amused Grace. Then he crossed to her and pulled her against him.

  “I won’t tell you not to worry because I’m doing it too,” he said, “but let’s be honest about what we’re going through. Coach Garretty always used to say it’s easier to carry your fears when you share them.”

  “You’ve told me a million words of wisdom from that man,” she whispered against his chest. “But not that one.”

  “Because I…wasn’t sure I could do it,” he said softly.

  She edged back. “Why didn’t you think you could?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know.” But his eyes said otherwise.

  “Yes, you do. Tell me.”

  There was a moment of silence before he said, “I was afraid it would only make you worry more if you knew about my fears. You worry a lot, Grace. I…don’t know how to help you with that. It’s…you worried about the media and things like money so much, it got…it was a lot to handle sometimes. The more I tried to reassure you or help, the more upset you got. I…crap…I felt pretty damn helpless sometimes.”

  She swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to work on that.”

  He gripped her more securely. “I didn’t tell you to make you feel bad. I just wish…you’d be able to let some of your fears go. It’s like you hold onto them. That’s not how I function.”

  No, he’d told her he still had fears. Just not what he did about them. “What do you do?” Her voice sounded small.

  “I think about them,” he said. “I face them. And then I drop kick them out of my… don’t laugh. My private stadium.”

  “I wouldn’t laugh about that,” she told him. He had made himself vulnerable to her again, and that was worth honoring. “Maybe I need a private stadium or something. Wait. I know. My own private kitchen.” She and the other chefs at Marcellos were scrupulous about keeping their kitchen clean and in order. Fear was rather like a bunch of rotten vegetables, now that she thought about it. Who would willingly leave those in the fridge?

  “I like it,” he said and glanced off quickly. “Look, I have to run, but I’ll be home as early as I can.”

  She heard the hesitation in his voice. It was obvious he was feeling the stress of the big game this weekend. “I’ll see you when I see you. Have a good day.”

  “You too,” he said. Catching her eyes, he lowered his mouth to hers and gave her a slow, soft kiss filled with a thousand promises. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” she said, still getting used to both saying and hearing the words again.

  He gave Ella another kiss and jogged out.

  Grace looked at her daughter. “It’s all going to be okay.”

  After Amy arrived to take care of Ella, Grace left for work. Without exactly intending to, she found herself calling her mom on the way to the restaurant.

  “Hi, honey,” her mom said when she answered. “How’s your day so far?”

  “Pretty good,” she told her. Gripping the steering wheel, she let the words come out in a rush. “Mom, Jordan and I decided to get back together.”

  “Oh, Grace,” she said, the words filled with love. “I’m so happy for you both. This is what I’d hoped for.”

  “Me too,” she admitted, “but I’m still a little scared. I want this to work so badly. For me and for Ella.”

  “Then make it so,” her mom told her. “Half of any good marriage is choosing to be in it every day. The other half is remembering the love that made you decide to be there in the first place.”

  She gripped the steering wheel. “Mom, Jordan and I haven’t talked about marriage yet.” This time, she had to believe he really wanted to marry her—now—and not because Ella had entered their lives.

  “But you will,” her mom said, her tone no-nonsense. “Why do you think I used the word? This way you can freak out on your own before Jordan brings it up. Because he will, Grace. He might have dithered about it in the past, God knows, but things have changed. You have a child together. You’re living on the same property. This is the next step.”

  “You always use a two-by-four to drive your point home,” Grace said.

  “Grace, you love that man, and he loves you. And you have Ella to boot. Talk with each other about why you broke up. Get to the bottom of things. Once you do, let yourself love that man with everything you are. I know that’s the way you love, Gracie, because it’s the way I love too. All you have to do is do it. Don’t let your pride get in the way. I know you waited seven years for him before, but it might be wise to let that go.”

  “You make it sound so easy,” she said, taking the interstate exit to the restaurant.

  “It is, Gracie. I know you have your fears. We all do. But as your father and I have told you all your life, the best course is not to wallow in them. It’s why you left Deadwood to go to culinary school. It’s why you went to Italy even after you discovered you were pregnant. It’s why you agreed to live in your dream house in Atlanta next door to Jordan to provide a home for Ella. All that took courage. Remember your grit, Gracie, and when you forget, you call me. Okay, honey?”

  Tears popped into her eyes, and she blinked furiously to clear them as she pulled into Marcellos’ parking lot. “Mom, you’re the best. You know that, right?”

  “I’ve put in a lot more years than you, is all,” she said. “It’s my job to share with you what I know and what I see in you. You’ll do the same with Ella and any other children you and Jordan have.”

  More children? Her stomach quivered. Her mother sounded so sure of herself. “You really believe Jordan and I can do this?”

  She snorted. “Grace Elizabeth Kincaid. The same blood that brought my great-great-grandparents out West in that wagon train runs through your veins. Of course, I believe that. Besides, I’ve been on this earth long enough to know true love when I see it. And I see it when I look at you and Jordan. He might have lost himself for a while, but he’s realized what’s important. That man will be true to you until the day he dies—and with all the temptations around him as a football player, that’s saying something.”

  How many times had her mother used the wagon train story? But somehow, being reminded of her roots helped. She was also happy to hear her mom thought Jordan had changed. It helped to have another person confirm it. After turning her car off, she let her hands fall to her lap.

  “If there’s one thing I trust, it’s that Jordan would never cheat on me. He might be a little tempted on and off, but he wouldn’t do it.”

  “Hard not to be tempted as a man when a bunch of hot women are always sticking their boobs and butts into his face.”

  “Mother!”

  Her mom gave a gusty laugh. “Grace, how many times have we talked about those parties you used to attend with Jordan? I recall you talking about miles of surgically-enhanced cleavage and butt implants.”

  She had regaled her mom with those stories, and they’d laughed together. It had been a coping mechanism of sorts. But she’d lost the ability to find humor in it after the breakup.

  “Point taken,” she said, pocketing her keys in her purse. “I’m at the restaurant. Thanks for talking things through with me, Mom.”

  “Anytime, Gracie. It’s one of my greatest blessings. Love you.”

  “Love you too,” she said and ended the call.

  She hadn’t intended to tell anyone else about her reunion with Jordan. Not until she was more certain of them. But she felt more grounded as she walked into the restaurant, more certain of what they were doing. She realized that keeping their relationship a secret would be a mistake. It was counter to the openness they’d need to show to each other to make it work.

  When she walked into the kitchen, she put her hands on her hips. Tony looked up from slicing the skin off a halibut. Victor and the others stopped what they were doing.

&nbs
p; “Jordan and I are back together,” she said, firming her legs to stand tall. “I wanted to let you know.”

  Tony gave a slow smile. “Congratulazioni.”

  Everyone else joined in, and Tony walked over and embraced her.

  “I’m happy for you, Grace,” he told her, kissing her cheeks Italian-style. “And for Jordan and Ella.”

  “Way to go, Grace,” Victor said, lifting his butcher knife in a salute. “If the media messes with you anymore, you let us know.”

  “Yeah, we’ll take care of them,” Carlo said. He was smiling, but Grace knew they weren’t completely joking.

  The other kitchen staff nodded, and she put her hand on her heart. “Thank you. Now let’s get back to work.”

  Tony snorted. “We’ve already started. Feel free to join the party.”

  She gave him a pointed look, knowing he was teasing her for being a little late. “Happy to.”

  Chapter 22

  Jordan pulled back onto the interstate after being given a warning for speeding. The police officer had clocked him at eighty-eight miles per hour. Too fast, he knew, but he was eager to see Grace and Ella. The past two weeks had been some of the sweetest of his life.

  Reining himself in, he decided to call Sam as a distraction. They were in the same time zone, so he figured he might catch him on his way home from practice.

  “Hey,” Sam answered. “I’m just heading out from the stadium. You got lucky.”

  “I was hoping to,” Jordan answered. “You ready for Brody this weekend? He wants to kick your ass.”

  “And I want to kick his,” Sam replied good-naturedly. “I don’t like playing one of my brothers, but when I do, it’s not personal. I want Brody to have his best game. I plan on having mine. The rest will be decided on the field.”

  “I’m glad my game is at the same time. That way I won’t be tempted to peek at the score.” He hated watching his brothers square off against each other. It meant he couldn’t root for either team—just for his friends to play good games.

  “It’s the biggest game of the season for you so far on Sunday,” Sam said. “You ready?”

  “Yeah,” Jordan replied, tapping the steering wheel in eagerness. “As much as possible. You know how it is.”

  “I do,” Sam responded. “How’s the little one? Ella gets cuter with every picture you send. Are you the one putting those colorful little bows in her hair?”

  “No,” Jordan replied, shuddering. “I’m still a little terrified to stick a metal object into her hair, although Grace continues to assure me it’s fine.” He didn’t plan on changing his stance until Ella personally asked him to fix her hair.

  “You’re saying her name differently,” Sam commented.

  “Who? Ella?”

  “No, Grace,” Sam replied. “Something’s changed, hasn’t it?”

  Only Sam would pick up on a little detail like that. “We’re back together. I haven’t told anyone else yet.”

  Truth was, he was still getting used to the idea. They were doing great so far. She’d even cleared out a couple shelves in the bathroom vanity and her closet to make space for him.

  “You’re worried she’ll back out again?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah. Maybe. I realized today what was bothering me. Why I haven’t told anyone. I haven’t asked her to come to one of my games. I’ve been afraid to.”

  “And Sunday’s is even bigger than the one against Baltimore,” Sam said, sighing. “I can see your conundrum. She could sit in the owner’s box, I suppose.”

  “She never really felt comfortable with everyone there,” Jordan said, “and she’s never made friends with any of the players’ wives.” Grace said they didn’t have much in common, and she wasn’t far off. Many of the wives and girlfriends didn’t work outside the home, and some were airheads and gold diggers, but deep down Jordan suspected she hadn’t tried very hard to connect.

  “If it’s important to you, you need to ask her,” Sam said. “People who love each other support each other. Do you want her there?”

  “Yeah,” he answered honestly. “And I want Ella there too, but part of me wonders if I’m asking too much. I mean, Ella is still really little. We still haven’t even shared a picture of her with the press, and the media’s put out a bounty for the first picture. This would take that off the table.” But he hadn’t told Grace. He was afraid she’d freak—because he didn’t much like the thought of it either. He didn’t have an answer, and that frustrated him to no end.

  “Not an easy place to be in, Jordan. She’s a little girl. Any mother would want to protect her child from the kind of media scrutiny Grace has endured. Maybe give Grace a pass on bringing her until she’s older. It’s a lot of people, and heck, the noise makes me half deaf after the game. Hard to imagine the effect it would have on Ella.”

  Talking it through with Sam was helping. Why hadn’t he thought about all the people and the noise? He wanted to kick himself. “Am I just stressing about this because I want Grace to prove to me she’s serious about us? I trust it when we’re behind closed doors—”

  “But the public thing has been one of the biggest problems between you two,” Sam finished. “You’re going to have to talk about it sometime. Best do it early in case…”

  “Things revert back to the way they were.” God, the thought depressed him, but Sam was right. The worry was festering inside him. “I’ll find a way to talk about the game with her.” It was too early to mention the bounty. He wondered if she’d heard about it, but surely she would have mentioned it. He felt completely helpless. He didn’t want to give in to the jackals and release a picture of their daughter. It was like negotiating with terrorists, if you asked him.

  “She’ll listen to you,” Sam said. “Grace has a good heart, and if she wants to give things another shot, it’s because she loves you. Try and remember that.”

  “You’re the best,” Jordan said.

  “Nah. I’ve just racked up a few more years than you have. Good luck talking to Grace and with the game this weekend. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, Sam,” he said, feeling a smile tip up the corners of his mouth. “Here’s to playing your best game this weekend.”

  “From your lips to God’s ears,” Sam said.

  “Tell your mom hi.”

  “I will. She loves seeing pictures of Ella too. It’s like pre-grandma fever.”

  “Good thing she doesn’t pressure you to settle down,” Jordan said, chuckling softly.

  “She knows me too well. I like to do things my own way and in my own time.”

  Jordan took the exit that would bring him home. “I don’t know anyone who would make a better family man than you.”

  Sam snorted. “On that note, I’ll sign off. Later, man.”

  “Later,” he responded as the call ended.

  When he entered the gates of their property, he drove down the lane to Grace’s house. Since their reconciliation, he’d taken to parking his car in her driveway rather than his garage. So far, she hadn’t said anything.

  In fact, he hadn’t gone through the yellow gate between their two houses since they’d gotten back together. He hoped there would never be a need.

  Tonight he was about to find out how far they’d come.

  * * *

  Grace looked at the garage door button, but she bounced on her heels a little before opening it. Ella grinned at her and cooed as it rose.

  “Thanks for the encouragement,” she told her daughter as she carried her down the three steps leading to the driveway.

  Jordan’s car was cruising toward them, but she’d known he was coming. At her request, the guards at the gate had texted her an alert. He pulled to a stop, and the passenger window lowered.

  “Park in the garage,” she told him. “It’s going to rain.”

  She turned around and headed back inside quickly, not waiting for him. Waiting would mean allowing him to park in the garage was a big deal. She didn’t want to make it a big d
eal. But her palms were undeniably a little sweaty as she headed back to the kitchen to the pan of boiling water she’d started for pasta. It might be a late dinner, but they could still be civilized about it.

  On the platter sitting on the counter, she’d arranged some seasonal meats and cheeses. Freshly sliced red pepper and tomato rested on a bed of buffalo mozzarella lightly dressed with olive oil and shredded fresh basil, topped off with some Celtic salt Grace favored for its rich sea flavor.

  Two veal cutlets sat on a plate, coated with the Italian bread crumbs she’d made at the restaurant. A bottle of Nebbiolo was breathing.

  “Whoa! She’s still awake,” Jordan said when he came through the mud room door.

  “Yes,” Grace replied as Ella cooed and bounced in her arms, clearly happy to see her daddy.

  “What do we have here?” he asked, nodding to the kitchen.

  “I decided to cook something special,” she said as he came toward her.

  “After you cooked most of the day?” he asked, suspicion in his voice.

  He knew she rarely cooked for herself—well, them—on the days she worked in the restaurant.

  “I wanted to,” she said, trying not to downplay the gesture.

  He stopped in front of her. As his gaze slid down her body, she couldn’t help but do the same. His outfit—a white T-shirt under a leather bomber jacket, paired with fitted jeans—sent a flare of lust through her. He was hers again. Hers for the taking. Whenever she wanted.

  Except when Ella was awake. Like now.

  His eyes heated when she met his gaze again. “Hi,” he said, giving her a soft, slow kiss on the mouth.

  Ella reached for him, cooing like crazy. He took her from Grace.

  “Hi,” she responded, slightly breathy.

  “Hey, princess,” he said, and Ella uttered a squeal loud enough to make them both wince. “How’s my little girl?”

  She patted his leather jacket and became fixated with the brass buttons. When she leaned forward, he made a face and held her away from his body.