She looked at Grace over the top of her red-framed glasses and added, “Irish. He’ll get drunk and spend all your money.”
Grace rolled her eyes. “He has a job, Grandma. He doesn’t need my money.”
She harrumphed and gave him another once-over, then visually dismissed him. “Good-looking, too. There’s no one on earth you should trust less than a good-looking Irishman.”
Nick leaned over and whispered to Grace, “She knows I’m sitting right here and can hear her, right?”
Grace shook her head, exasperated. “She knows. She just doesn’t care.”
“You were better off with that one,” Ruthie said, gesturing to Brad.
“Thank you, Mother Montgomery,” he cooed with a smarmy smile, making Nick glance around. There has to be a toilet around here somewhere to flush this fucknut’s head in.
But Brad’s smile drooped as Ruthie added, “Better to have a faggot-y Englishman for a husband than a nothing-but-testosterone Irishman.”
“Wow,” Gage murmured. “You managed to insult gays and everyone in two countries in one sentence. That’s impressive, even for you.”
Ruthie frowned at him. “No one enjoys your sense of humor.”
“I do,” Grace said, clinking glasses with her cousin.
“It’s no wonder neither of you are married,” Ruthie grumbled.
“Grace is married, Mother,” Sarah said.
Ruthie’s upper lip twisted up into a snarl. “I’ve asked you repeatedly not to call me that, you spineless twit.”
Sarah smiled and discreetly pushed her bangs off her forehead with her middle finger. “I know,” she said sweetly.
“I’m not married,” Grace said at the same time Nick said, “She’s not married.”
“You seem happy, Grandma,” Gage said. “Did you run over a puppy on your way here?”
“Grace, Gage,” Sarah said, “don’t antagonize your grandmother.”
“She started it,” Grace said defensively.
“She totally did,” Gage agreed.
“I don’t care who started it, I’m finishing it.” Sarah threw her hands up. “I can’t believe I just said that to two grown-ups.”
“Sorry,” they mumbled in unison.
“Besides,” Sarah went on, warming to her topic, “this night is about Sadie and Michael. The least you can do is pretend you have manners until dinner is over.”
“That’s not the least I could do,” Grace said. “I could do way less.”
“David,” Sarah whined. “Speak to your daughter.”
David’s eyes didn’t leave his Kindle as he said, “Poodle, do as your mother says, please.”
Nick glanced at Grace. “Poodle?”
She rolled her eyes and said, “Unfortunate perm experience when I was a teenager. Not exactly a story I like to share.” He chuckled.
Ruthie leaned back and turned her attention to Sadie. “Are you sure you want to marry into this group of degenerates, dear? I’m sure you’re too good for Michael.”
“That’s no lie,” Gage said under his breath.
“Hey,” Michael said, sounding like a kid who’d been told he couldn’t be Batman when he grew up.
Sadie and Gage locked eyes for a split second before she blushed and looked down at the table.
Grace reached around him to pop Gage on the shoulder. “Snap out of it,” she hissed. “She’s Michael’s fiancée.”
“You said that already,” he hissed back.
She bared her teeth at him. “I thought it merited repeating.”
A waiter arrived and asked if anyone wanted wine. Everyone held their glasses up eagerly.
“Thank you, Jesus,” Grace muttered.
Amen and Hallelujah.
Chapter Fourteen
On an average day, Grace knew her family was moderately dysfunctional and quirky. But on a day like today, they were really no better than monkeys at the zoo flinging their crap at one another.
Throughout dinner, her mother continued grilling Nick like she was a detective and he was a perp on Law and Order. Her father ignored everyone all night while he read World War Z, making Grace regret her decision to buy him a Kindle for his birthday the previous year. Gage’s visual fascination with Sadie seemed to border on obsession by the time dessert was served. Michael was especially clueless as he split his time between glaring at Nick and gazing adoringly at Sadie. Nick wore the shell-shocked visage of an avalanche survivor and Grandma Ruthie was…well, Grandma Ruthie.
And now, an hour after dessert with no end to the carnage of the evening in sight, Grace found herself wondering if there was another restaurant in town. Maybe some good old-fashioned comfort food would settle her stomach. The food Sadie had chosen for their dinner left her slightly nauseous. Who the hell chose pumpkin bisque as an after-appetizer soup, anyway?
“Are you okay?” Nick asked.
She was so fascinated with that little furrow in his brow, the one he got when he was concerned about her, that she didn’t answer. God, it was so nice to have someone care about her. How pathetic was that?
“You look a little green,” he added, the furrow deepening.
“Maybe the bisque didn’t agree with me,” she admitted.
He nodded. “Not surprising. It looked like baby crap.” He gestured for the waiter and asked him for a bottle of water.
The fact that it looked like crap was probably what kept the men, other than Brad, from eating any of the bisque. Smart. Her stomach roiled and she groaned. If only she’d been smart and avoided it, too.
“It gave me gas,” Ruthie said, then underscored her comment with a loud belch, not bothering to cover her mouth.
“Lovely,” Gage muttered.
Sarah dabbed at her sweaty forehead with a napkin. “I guess that wasn’t a good suggestion after all. I’m so sorry, Sadie, dear.”
Grace silently took back the nasty things she’d been thinking about Sadie’s choice in food. She should’ve known that the pumpkin bisque had been her mother’s idea.
Sadie smiled weakly, still beautiful, even though her alabaster skin had turned pasty and clammy-looking. “That’s all right. I still appreciate your help. I didn’t have any clue what to order.”
The waiter arrived with Nick’s water. He accepted it with a nod of thanks, then twisted the cap off and handed it to Grace. “Drink this. I wasn’t about to let them bring you tap water. I don’t even trust that after the bisque fiasco.”
He said bisque with the same enthusiasm she showed for big hairy spiders. Grace smiled up at him. He smiled back and they kind of…stuck like that. The noise around her dimmed and her stomach calmed for a moment as she focused on his face. Those amazing eyes with the little smile lines at the corners. And Jesus, who knew men could even have lashes that thick?
“Angel,” he said, voice pitched even lower than usual. “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’m carrying you back to your room caveman-style and pinning you to the wall for a few hours.”
Her breath whooshed out. That sounded way better than it probably should have.
With a growl he leaned toward her.
Brad slammed his fist down on the table, sending the bread basket and his wine glass flying. “I’ve had just about enough of this,” he shouted.
Grace and Sadie jumped, but Nick calmly shifted his gaze from Grace to Brad, raising a brow expectantly.
“Grace, I’ve tolerated this charade long enough,” Brad said.
“Great leapin’ horny toads,” Ruthie muttered, mopping up the spilled wine with a handkerchief she’d pulled from her bra. “I guess the little fairy has a backbone after all.”
Sarah wrung her hands anxiously. “Brad, maybe you should wait—“
He gave his head a furious shake. “No. I absolutely will not wait another moment to tell Grace how I feel.”
“Sweet Christ,” Gage grumbled, downing what remained of his wine. “What a clusterfuck.”
“Brad,” Grace said with a sigh that felt l
ike it came from her toes. That was how deeply exasperated she was with Brad at the moment. “Can’t we talk about this in private? Tomorrow, maybe?”
He slammed his palms down on the table again and leaned forward. “And let you spend the night with this piece of…” He gestured to Nick, his lip curled up in disgust, “…trailer trash? I bet he didn’t even bother telling you he’s the son of a drug dealer who died in a prison brawl.”
Nick’s eyes narrowed, and every bit of color drained from Sadie’s face. Everyone else at the table went deathly quiet.
Michael looked at Sadie, whose lower lip began to tremble. He frowned. “But I thought your parents died in a car accident.”
Sadie’s mouth opened and closed like a landed trout, but no sound came out.
“No,” Brad went on, clueless as ever, pointing an accusatory finger at Nick, “they didn’t. His mother was stabbed to death in prison while serving time for dealing. His father died of an overdose while awaiting trial, also for trafficking.”
Nick ignored him and shook his head at Sadie. “I’m so sorry, honey.”
Michael looked at her like he’d never seen her before. “You lied to me?” he whispered. “Why?”
Grace knew the mulish look on Michael’s face. She’d seen it a million times over the years. If she let him dig his heels in, the marriage would be off, which was exactly what she wanted. They were too young to get married, anyway. All she had to do was keep her mouth shut and the problem would go away.
But one look at Sadie’s distraught face and she knew she couldn’t let it go down like this.
“Well, just wait a minute, Michael” Grace said calmly. “This is probably just a crazy misunderstanding. Brad, where did you get your information? Did you run a background check or something? And more importantly, why would you purposefully try to hurt Sadie like this?”
Every drop of righteous indignation bled from Brad’s face as comprehension final sank in. “Their aunt told me,” he murmured. “I met her in the casino.” He gulped. “Miss O’Connor, I-I never meant to hurt you, I swear it.”
“No, you were so damn busy trying to hurt her brother you never once thought about her feelings,” Gage said with a disgusted sneer. “You always were a sniveling little shit, but this is low even for you.”
“Why would you lie to me, Sadie?” Michael repeated, sounding more than a little hurt and pissed off.
Sadie just shook her head, tears filling her eyes.
Nick ran a hand through his hair. “Jesus, wouldn’t you lie? What this little douchebag dug up? That’s not even half of what they did. She’s ashamed of them. I would be, too, if I gave a shit.”
But he did, Grace realized. She could see it in the tight set of his jaw. He just hid it better than Sadie. Her heart broke for these two obviously good people who were ashamed of their upbringing, of who they were.
Grace cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the lump that had settled there. “Well, Michael, let’s talk through this.” Because if there was a single thing in this world Grace Montgomery was good at, it was mediation. Law school had seen to that. “Can you honestly tell me that you haven’t lied to Sadie about anything over the course of your relationship?”
His chin came up defensively. “I haven’t lied about anything.”
Mistake number one, she thought. Never give a lawyer an absolute. “Nothing at all? So, you told her about how you wet the bed until you were ten?”
Michael’s outraged intake of air practically sucked all the oxygen out of the room. “You promised you’d never mention that!”
She smirked. “I lied.”
He sputtered for a moment before regaining his composure. “Well, it wasn’t technically a lie. I just didn’t mention it.”
Mistake number two. Don’t argue technicalities with a lawyer. “It was a purposeful omission, which, if we were in court, I would argue was a lie.”
She’d argue it. Couldn’t make it ever stand up in court. But Michael didn’t need to know that.
Sarah threw her napkin down. “Grace Emerson Montgomery, you apologize to your brother. Bringing up his little…problem was uncalled for.”
“Just trying to prove a point, Mom.” And take the heat off Sadie, of course. “We all have things we’re ashamed of and might lie about if given the opportunity.”
Michael crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, like when you were thirteen? When you said you were spending the weekend at Sheila McElroy’s house?”
Grace narrowed her eyes at him. “You wouldn’t.”
He smirked. “She was really at a Bon Jovi concert with Sheila’s brother. Sheila’s eighteen-year-old brother.”
Sarah gasped. “Damn it, Grace, you could’ve been raped or killed or…” she trailed off and pointed a finger at Grace, “you’re grounded.”
“I’m twenty-seven years old and live in a different state. You can’t ground me.”
Sarah pursed her lips. “David, say something.”
He didn’t lift his eyes from his Kindle, but parroted, “You’re grounded.”
Ruthie cackled, then belched loudly without bothering to cover her mouth—again. She pounded her chest lightly with her fist twice before saying, “Whoa, Nelly. That bisque was a pip, wasn’t it?”
“Fine,” Grace said, “I’m grounded.” She rolled her eyes. “My point is that we all have secrets, things we’re ashamed of and don’t want to tell anyone about. Like Brad, for example.”
Brad sputtered. “I don’t really see how that’s relevant at all to—”
“He wears lifts in his shoes,” she said, looking down her nose at him. “He’s really only about five-six.”
Sadie’s lip finally stopped trembling and her eyes brightened a bit. Gage must have noticed because he admitted with a careless shrug, “I have a juvenile record.”
Grace nodded. “He stole a car when he was twelve.”
“Borrowed,” he corrected.
“Nuance.”
“You were a complete turd,” David said, still sounding distracted and not looking up from his Kindle.
“Thanks, Uncle David.”
He grunted in reply. Sarah buried her head in her hands as she cried, “I don’t think I’ve ever been more ashamed of you children.”
Grace narrowed her eyes. “What about you, Mom? I know you’re not perfect, either. What secrets are you hiding?”
Her head shot up and her eyes went deer-in-headlights wide. “Nothing,” she said too quickly.
Gage raised a brow. “Uncle David?”
Her father lifted his head and blinked a few times before saying, “She smoked pot in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s. A lot of it.” He gave Sadie a wink before returning his attention to the zombie apocalypse.
Her mother let out a shocked gasp, threw down her napkin, and jerked to her feet. “I’ve had just about enough of this. I’m not feeling well and I’m going to bed.”
As she turned on her heel and strode from the room, head held high and regal, Gage turned to Sadie and said, “Can’t help but notice she didn’t deny it.”
Sadie giggled, then slapped a hand over her mouth as if she couldn’t believe such a sound had come out of her. Gage graced her with one of his rare smiles that—Grace had been told—could stop a girl’s heart...or drop her panties. Sadie didn’t appear to be immune, as red stained her cheeks and she dropped her gaze to the table.
Grace’s stomach rumbled ominously, letting her know it was time to cut the evening short. “Look, it’s been a long night. Michael, why don’t we all go our separate ways so you and Sadie can talk privately?”
Everyone got up and mumbled their goodbyes. Grace noticed that her brother left the table and didn’t look back at Sadie once. Gage noticed, too.
“That fucker,” he muttered. “No way could the golden boy understand what she’s going through.”
Grace hated it when Gage called Michael that. It wasn’t Michael’s fault that her parents doted on him. Or that Gage’s parents were neglect
ful shitheads who completely abandoned their son and disappeared when he was just a kid. “Let it go, Gage. Michael will come around.”
He grunted in reply before adding, “Hey, nice job sticking up for her tonight.”
He held out his clenched fist and she rolled her eyes as she bumped knuckles with him. “What are you—twelve?”
He flipped her off and headed to the elevator. She glanced back at Nick, who was watching her with the most intense expression she’d ever seen directed at her.
And God knew that as a lawyer, she’d had some pretty damned intense expressions aimed at her a time or two.
“What is it?” she asked warily.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed her hand and tugged her into an elevator. When the doors closed, he shoved her against the wall and captured her squeak of surprise with his mouth.
When she was pretty sure he’d melted every bone in her body with the passion and heat in that kiss, he rested his forehead on hers and said, “You’re amazing, Grace Montgomery.”
“Huh?” she asked, dismayed that eloquence had completely escaped her.
“I know you’re against my sister marrying your brother, and when you had your shot, you didn’t take it.”
Grace sighed. “I’m not against your sister at all. I’m against a couple of children getting married. But still, your sister seems great. I didn’t want to see her get hurt like that. She doesn’t deserve it.”
He pushed a curl behind her ear, letting his fingertips linger on her skin. “That’s why you’re amazing. No one but me has ever stood up for Sadie before.”
“Well, that’s just…not right.” She frowned. Apparently her eloquence was still MIA. Or maybe she’d never had any with Nick to begin with.
He smiled and leaned in for another kiss. She braced herself against the wall, just in case her knees gave out. Again.
But just as his lips were a whisper away from her own, the elevator door opened and a harried-looking Gage stepped inside. “Thank God I found you. How are you feeling?”
Annoyed? Sexually frustrated? Damn tired of getting interrupted? Take your pick, she wanted to say.
But she didn’t say any of that. Instead, she turned to Nick, opened her mouth, and for the second time in their short acquaintance…
You Complicate Me Page 8
