by Ewens, Tracy
“That was really stunning. Did you know he was going to do that?”
“Nope. I’m not sure Peter even knew he was going to do it. Those two have been circling each other for years.”
“Are you happy for them? I mean, I’m sure you are, but they are both your best friends. That has to be weird.”
“It was for a while, but once I stopped thinking about myself I was very happy for them. They belong together. Pete’s a complicated guy and Sam gets him, so it’s good. I love them both. I’m glad he finally took the plunge.”
“Do you think they’ll get married in Pasadena? Doesn’t Peter live in New York? I wonder how that’s going to work?” Kate was thinking out loud and continued licking her ice cream. She seemed almost giddy in her memory of the proposal.
When she smiled, her whole face changed and he wondered if she knew. It was a real, genuine smile, and she went all human on him. Grady was mesmerized by all the different sides of Kate Galloway. The dance of her eyes suddenly made it hard to keep jabbing, joking. Jabbing was fun and kept them both where they belonged, but he wanted more dancing eyes, almost needed a closer look. He was certain, just as sure as he had been when he touched the stove burner for the first time at his sister Kara’s third birthday party, that a closer look, while warm, would burn. This wasn’t a date, he told himself. Even if it felt like the very best, most stimulating date he had ever been on. Even if she smelled like something he’d yet to figure out, but wished he could bottle. Even if when she looked at him he saw possibilities—he wanted more, to be more. Even with all of that, this wasn’t a date. She may be in a soft moment right now, but she would snap out of it any minute. She’d realize she was working, he was her project, and she’d remember she didn’t have ice cream with guys like him.
Until that moment though, Grady was going to enjoy this Kate Galloway, as much as she’d let him. “Would you like to see my house?”
Kate almost dropped her ice cream and Grady loved the shock on her face. “I . . . I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Oh. Yeah, I was just thinking since we are meeting the first set of volunteers there tomorrow that you might want to see it first. Check me out and make sure I don’t have a wall of shot glasses or porn in the bathroom.” Grady smiled and Kate blushed. Damn, the blushing was fun.
“Right. That is tomorrow. Okay, sure. Let’s go clean up your act. Why am I picturing posters and a pinball machine? You don’t have a pinball machine, do you?”
Grady shook his head. “I have a ping pong table, but it’s in the basement. No pinball,” he said as he opened the door to the car that had pulled around to take them home.
“Well that’s a relief.” Kate held her dress and slipped into the dark leather seat. Grady closed the door and as he circled the back of the car, he realized he’d never brought a woman to his house. Ever. Before he could tell himself this was a mistake, he told himself it was business, work. Yeah right.
Kate walked up the front path of Grady’s home and tried not to gasp. She was normally great at faking interest, or pretending to not be shocked, but everything about this man defied prediction. She couldn’t figure him out and in some sick part of her brain that made him all the more interesting.
The house was white, maybe whitewashed was the term, with wood planks. Kate guessed it was a ranch style. The entryway where they now stood as Grady took out his keys had a giant tree growing up and through the roof as if the tree was more important than the house. Kate gestured to it.
“Did you—”
“Think to cut that down before I built the house?” Grady opened the large all-glass front door and motioned her in. “That probably would have been the easier thing to do, but the tree was here when I bought the land. Didn’t seem right to cut it.” He threw his keys on a concrete table near the door while Kate tried to keep her mouth from falling open.
“I’m sure your contractor appreciated that,” she said, trying to make conversation because every cell of her body was buzzing. Grady smiled and the buzzing got louder.
“Yeah, he’s a good guy, so he understood. Can I get you a drink?”
“Water is fine,” Kate said, walking through the entry and following Grady into the kitchen. It was unlike any kitchen she had ever seen. There were two utility sinks and a huge stovetop all set in some kind of stone. A giant antique-looking butcher’s block sat in the center. Grady took two waters out of one side of the refrigerator, which also had glass doors, and from what Kate could see, food. Real, like I cook, food.
“Okay, I’ll give you the ten-cent tour,” Grady said, handing her a water. He loosened his tie, rolled his sleeves up his forearms, and took a sip of his water. “All right, we are obviously in the kitchen. I guess I should tell you that everything in this house is repurposed, which is a fancy way of saying used.”
She smiled.
“Nothing is new?” Kate asked.
“Well, the electrical, plumbing and the appliances are new. But the materials to build the house and most of the furniture is used.”
“Huh,” Kate said looking at the floor.
“The flooring is from an old barn. The windows are each a little different and were recovered from a number of the homes destroyed in New Orleans. There’s a pretty cool one in the bathroom that’s stained glass, but it doesn’t open properly, so there’s the trade-off with old.” Kate smiled again. She was flooded with images of him in this space. Living a life she would have never guessed when she first met him. It was all so strange. How could he possibly be all of this underneath? She caught herself chewing on her thumb and stopped.
“Why used? Just to conserve?”
“I like old things,” he said, leading her into the living room that was a huge open space with a leather sectional couch, and what looked like a large pulley under glass for a coffee table. “I knew I wanted to build my own home, but I didn’t want that new feel. I wanted the energy of an old house, so I decided to try and create that here. It took me two years, but it really turned into a great space.”
They turned toward the back of the house, which was all glass. There were sliding doors that seemed to disappear into the walls as Grady pushed them open. Outside was a patio, a small pool, and what looked like 1960s patio furniture.
The night sky stretched endless, and when Kate turned to look at him she was lost. In him, in what he called his space. All of it was overwhelming and she needed to get out, needed to leave before she did or said something stupid. Her heart was racing. He wasn’t moving, just facing her, looking at her under the stars. She could feel his breath, and if she didn’t turn and run this instant, she would put her hands on his chest, finally look deep into the ocean of his eyes, and lose herself in a kiss she knew would ruin her.
“Grady,” Kate heard her voice say. She was staring at his chest, she could see his breath moving in and out.
“Yes, Kate.” He wasn’t moving. Her eyes moved up his neck and met his gaze. He wasn’t looking at her like Katherine Galloway. Those weren’t work eyes, or sarcastic “Let me mess with you” eyes. These eyes, they were “I want to see what you look like in the morning, tangled in my sheets,” eyes. Kate couldn’t breathe. She wasn’t what someone like Grady wanted, she wasn’t that woman. She had played this game before and been burned.
“I need to leave,” Kate said on a whisper.
“I know.” And he did, it was all over his face. He saw her, saw her fear, and maybe sensed some of his own. She wasn’t ready, would probably never be ready, for what was dancing between the two of them.
In that moment, both turned as if running to save themselves. Kate politely said goodnight, from a distance, and Grady opened the door to the town car for her. When the driver pulled away, Kate closed her eyes tightly and put her head back on the seat. Less than a half hour ago, she was innocently touring Grady’s house, checking it out before tomorrow. Nothing could have been easier. Until less than five minutes ago, when easy had turned into being surrounded by a man
she found herself wanting. And not just a “wow, he’s attractive” sort of want. This was a “strip my clothes off, don’t worry about the buttons, and take me right here” kind of want. It washed over her, a feeling she hadn’t felt in a very long time. In fact, Kate was pretty sure she’d never had this particular feeling, and now she was safely locked in a car heading home where she belonged. Thank God!
Chapter Ten
The next morning, Kate was up early and outside Nordstrom with Reagan when the store opened at nine o’clock. It was Find Reagan’s Wedding Shoes Saturday. They’d met for breakfast and were now fueled and ready to go. Reagan had some ideas she had pinned on Pinterest and she was showing them to Kate as a lady in a white coat wrestled the door locks open.
“So are you going flats or heels? There’s both here.”
“I know, I couldn’t decide. Pinterest is evil. Anything is possible. Look at these, they’re real glass slippers.” She turned her phone to Kate.
“Ouch.” Kate grimaced.
“Right? But they look incredible.”
“I think it’s probably more important that you have feet for your honeymoon.”
Reagan laughed in agreement as they stepped off the escalator and into the shoe department.
“The dress is floor length, so you could really go either way,” Kate said, picking up a pair of ballet slippers with encrusted crystals.
“True, and Ben is a good six or seven inches taller than me, so I don’t have to worry about looking like Athena next to him.”
The clerk asked Reagan if she could help. They found two comfortable chairs and the fun began. After a couple of hours and two store changes, Reagan decided on flats and heels. She would wear the heels for the ceremony and pictures, but wear her satin flats for dancing and the reception. They also found her an outfit for the honeymoon plane ride. She and Ben planned to spend two weeks touring Italy. Reagan had been once before, but it would be Ben’s first time. Sometimes Kate thought Reagan was more excited about the honeymoon than she was about the wedding. Looking at her Italy itinerary over salads, Kate couldn’t blame her.
“You’re sleeping on the train for two nights of the trip.” Kate sighed. “So romantic.”
“I know. I’m just stupid for the whole thing. I’m so happy already. It doesn’t seem real.” Reagan’s eyes started to tear and Kate took her hand across the table.
“But it is real, honey, and you deserve every bit of it. Ben is just the luckiest guy.”
Reagan smiled. “Messy apartment, clay under my fingernails, and all?”
“All of it. You’re an amazing woman and he sees that, so major points for him.”
They both smiled and decided on dessert. They didn’t normally go for dessert at lunch, but they had new shoes and a honeymoon outfit—definite reasons for a celebration.
Kate sipped her coffee and took a bite of their shared cheesecake. She was quiet for a moment.
“Hello?” Reagan waved her hand in front of Kate’s face.
She looked up. “Oh, sorry. I’m not sure where I went. What were we talking about? This is delicious,” she said, holding up another forkful.
“Is he cute?” Reagan asked.
“I think we should try Faire Frou Frou in the valley for your silk and lace. Two weeks in Italy and you’re going to need . . . wait, what did you say?”
“The son, the client, is he cute?”
Kate’s face flushed, it was silly. “Really, Reagan? Are we ditching fifth period in school again? Cute? We’re thirty-two, no one is cute anymore.”
“So, is that a yes?”
“He’s . . . rich. That brings with it a certain look.”
“Oh, boy. That hot, huh?”
“Will you stop? He’s a good-looking man. You said you’ve seen him, or seen him in magazines. He’s . . . well he looks like the pictures. He’s attractive, but he’s also sarcastic, at ease, and painfully confident. He drives me . . . ”
Kate stopped. Reagan was smiling her “I know you” smile as she put a bite of cheesecake in her mouth. Kate hated that smile. “Fine, he’s beautiful, better than the pictures. Happy?”
Reagan nodded as she pulled the fork out of her mouth. “So he’s luscious and rich and he annoys you because he’s always so at ease, confident, and that’s a bad thing, why?”
“He’s not . . . we are not . . .”
“Oh, but I think you are. Kate, for the last month we’ve met for food or shopping, what, nine or ten times? You’ve mentioned him in one way or another every time.”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t mention him today. You brought it up. I was discussing what Ben was going to see once he got you out of your dress. You’re the one that—”
“You’re attracted to him. You’re thinking about him, I can tell. He’s pushing your buttons and getting under your skin, but you like it and why not? You’ve been holed up in your girl cave long enough. What a way to emerge!”
“Okay, enough. Cut it out. Do you want this last bite?”
Reagan slowly shook her head as her mouth formed into a knowing smile. Kate could tell Reagan was no longer interested in the cheesecake; she wanted details.
“It’s not like that. He’s a client. I’m working for his father, so please lasso in your romantic Bohemian heart, because that’s all this is. I think we should hit that little accessory boutique on our way to Frou Frou,” Kate said, and took a sip of her coffee.
“Oh, please. Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not changing the subject. We have things to do.”
“You’re blushing. Your cheeks are pink. I haven’t seen that in a very long time.”
Kate put her hands to her cheeks. They were warm. Damn her fair skin. “That’s a blush of annoyance,” Kate said.
Reagan dismissed her explanation. “Have you kissed him yet?”
“No! Wait, yet? What makes you think . . .? Believe me, there will be no kissing.” Mainly because Kate was sure she would go up in flames, but Reagan didn’t need to know that. Kate tried to stop it, but at even the suggestion of kissing Grady, her mind flooded with images. Blue eyes, soft lips, the dark evening sky, urgency and heat. Lots of heat. Where the hell had that come from? Her face was probably five shades of scarlet by now. She looked up and Reagan’s smile was now stretching right up into her beautiful brown eyes.
“You’re totally picturing kissing him right now! Oh God, it’s inevitable. When it happens I want all the details. Sliding tongues, heavy breathing, I want it all. I love kissing. It’s my favorite part of the whole naked business.”
Kate snapped out of her lust fog. “You are crazy. Nuts. There will be no sliding tongues. Who even talks like that?”
Reagan laughed and pointed at her. “Blushed again! Tongues, was it the tongues, Kate?” Reagan was having great fun now moving her head back and fourth in an air make-out session. “His hands, and those lips, I’m sure the lips are yummy.”
Kate couldn’t help it, she started to laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Laugh now, but it’s coming. I know it. Maybe we should all go to dinner. You, me, Ben and Mr. Yes, Please. That would be fun.”
“For the hundredth time, crazy lady, we are not dating. He’s a client. Great lips or not, that’s where it ends.”
“Really, then, why were you all dolled up in that gorgeous dress last night? Why did his car pick you up?”
Kate replayed the evening in her mind. The car, the ethereal glow of the Pasadena Playhouse at night, the chill, Grady and his friends wrapped in the most romantic marriage proposal she had ever witnessed. It messed with her mind, felt like a fairytale. Too bad Kate didn’t believe in fairytales anymore.
“Work. That was work. It was an event. The senator was there, his son, the entire family was there. They’re actually great people and the playhouse has this patio, I guess it’s a courtyard, with a fountain and old tile. It was all very 1920’s. The whole night felt unreal. Grady’s friend, Peter, is a playwright and his other
friend, Samantha, is the artistic director. They all grew up together. Peter proposed to her, and Reagan, my God it was incredible.” Kate looked up to Reagan’s soft expression.
“There’s a light in you, Kate. It’s dim, subtle, but it’s there. It’s coming back.” Reagan sighed.
Kate held her breath. She didn’t have room for light or love. She was sensible. People only got one shot at the fairytale, if they were lucky. Kate’s had started out exciting enough, but it was over now and it hadn’t worked out.
Reagan seemed to sense her panic and changed the subject, for now. “Okay, well, enough about how the other half lives, let’s go get me some naughty panties.” Reagan tossed her napkin at Kate.
They paid the check and Kate’s pulse returned to normal.
Grady arrived home and went straight for the shower. He was filthy. As scheduled, he had spent the morning at a campaign volunteers’ appreciation breakfast. His father was there and they served the volunteers as a way of thanking them for their work. It hadn’t been bad, but then his other life came calling. He hadn’t expected a call, nor was he expecting a shipment on a Saturday, of all days. No one was around, his partners were all busy, and even their normal go-to crew was nowhere to be found. Grady made excuses to his father and cut out early. The delivery guy was shorthanded too, so Grady ended up helping him move crates and the day got away from him.
Hair still wet, Grady moved to the kitchen to prep a well-deserved dinner. He rubbed olive oil on a roaster chicken he’d picked up on his way home. Salt and peppered it, then placed it in a skillet with some potatoes and carrots. He threw the whole thing in the oven and turned the television on. Not the news, he never watched the news. His channel surfing brought him to an Antique Roadhouse marathon. He loved this show. Dropping the remote on his coffee table, Grady grabbed a water from the kitchen, and returned just as some guy with a long goatee was inquiring about the value of his old AM/FM radio. Thankful for the distraction of the show, Grady sat and propped his legs up on the coffee table.
