Teach Your Heart: A New Zealand Opposites Attract Romance (Far North Series Book 3)

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Teach Your Heart: A New Zealand Opposites Attract Romance (Far North Series Book 3) Page 8

by Tracey Alvarez


  Charlie’s forehead crinkled. “That man Isaac came to the hospital yesterday. I thought he was a scary monster, but Gracie said he was only grouchy ’cause his leg was sore.”

  Gracie happened to be looking at Natalie when Charlie spoke. The woman’s whole nice-to-meetcha expression petrified then switched to such animated intensity Gracie couldn’t have begun to categorize the emotions flickering across her face. A face her brain made rapid-fire connections to. Natalie was Natalie Fisher, widow of the All Black rugby player who’d died in the same tragic accident that had injured Isaac. Holy shit! No wonder the mention of his name and the scandal surrounding it caused such a reaction.

  Vee didn’t see her friend’s face and gave a little laugh. “He’s definitely not a scary monster, sweetie. When you get to know him, he’s like an M&M—hard on the outside, sweet on the inside.”

  “I like M&Ms,” Charlie said and wriggled out of her backpack. She unzipped it, then pulled out her sketch pad. “The yellow ones are my favorite, and I’d like a yellow dress like the one Gracie drew, please.”

  Before Gracie could protest, Charlie shoved the pad at the two women.

  “See?” she said. “There’s a yellow dress with a flower for a little girl, and a yellow dress for her mummy the same but without the flower.”

  Vee took the pad. She flipped through a couple of pages, her eyes widening. “Wow.”

  She angled the art pad at Natalie, who smiled.

  “These are amazing,” Natalie said. “Who do you design for?”

  Gracie laughed, a scorch of heat rising up her throat. “God, no one. I was just playing around with Charlie’s colored pencils.”

  “Imagine these mother-daughter dresses in those summer cottons I was telling you about.” Natalie nudged Vee’s arms. “We could sell them on the website—if we ever get the damn thing going properly.”

  “You have a website?” Gracie asked.

  “A skeleton of one.” Vee’s big blue eyes narrowed to long-lashed slits. “You don’t happen to be a website guru, too, do you?”

  “No, but I did some papers at uni about web design,” Gracie said. “I could take a look some—”

  “Oooh, let’s have a quick look now. If that’s okay?”

  Beside Gracie, Morgan huffed out a pained sigh. “I thought we were looking for summer clothes.” She aimed a covert look at the sofa.

  Olivia had given up gaming and now pretended indifference, but she, too, kept sneaking glances at Morgan.

  Natalie’s green eyes danced between Morgan and Olivia, her gaze both a little wary but also hopeful. “Olivia, hon. Could you show Morgan and Charlie some of those new dresses and pretty tops Vee got in last week?”

  “So the grown-ups can talk? Thanks, Mum.” But Olivia scooped up Ruby and stood, the toddler clinging to her hip. “There are some girls’ dresses on this rack you might like, Charlie.” She pointed to a rack on the wall and gave Morgan a chin lift as she walked past to the opposite side of the shop, tapping another display with a finger. “And here are some shirts that’ll look nice with jeans or shorts if you’re not into the whole dress thing…”

  “Sorry to hijack you,” Vee said after the girls started to look through the garments.

  “I don’t mind being hijacked,” Gracie said. “And I’m happy to look at your website to see if I can offer any advice.”

  “I’m going to put the kettle on out back, and while the girls are busy, we can get acquainted.” Vee smiled and ducked behind the shop counter to a door set into the rear wall.

  Morgan pulled out a pretty pale-blue shirt, loose enough not to cling but with some shaping so it wouldn’t hang on her like a paper bag. She held it up to herself and pulled a face. Next to her, Olivia shook her head, and Gracie heard her say, “No, it’ll look good on you—try it.”

  Natalie followed where Gracie’s gaze landed and leaned in. “Charlie’s not the only one to need a friend, hmm?”

  “Yeah. She’s homeschooled like Charlie, and I suspect she finds it hard to make new friends. She’s had a rough couple of years.”

  “So has my Olivia.” Natalie laid a hand on Gracie’s arm. “I can see on your face you know who I am”—her mouth twisted for a moment—“or, more accurately, who I was married to.”

  “Your husband was Jackson Fisher.” Gracie lowered her voice even more so the girls wouldn’t overhear. “You and your daughter must’ve been through hell, the way the media dogged your family.”

  Natalie nodded. “It’s not so bad now but still hard for her sometimes. People don’t understand what it’s like being related to a celebrity, especially one caught up in a nationwide scandal.”

  “I do.” And in an impulsive moment, because there was just something that drew Gracie to this woman—and to the bubbly Vee—she said, “My older brother is about to marry Savannah Payne next month.”

  “Oh! You’re Glen Cooper’s sister?”

  “Small world, huh?” Gracie smiled. “Glen and Sav are planning a very small wedding, out of the public eye.”

  “Good for them,” Natalie said. “And we know, because Sav has asked me and Vee to make her bridesmaids’ dresses.” She laughed, her whole face lighting up and making her look far too young to have a teenage daughter. “Sav’s been putting off choosing a final design for you and her friend Lauren until you arrived—and now here you are.”

  “I haven’t even had time to talk to Sav since I arrived in Bounty Bay yesterday. It’s been crazy.”

  Natalie tipped her head at her daughter and Morgan, their heads close together over a rack of denim shorts. Ruby and Charlie sat on the floor close by, with Charlie showing the toddler a doll she must’ve found in the toy box next to the sofa. “It must’ve been if you’ve already found a job as their nanny.”

  “Funny story of how I got the job,” Gracie said.

  Natalie winked, looping her arm with Gracie’s. “We love funny stories. Come and have a cuppa, and tell us all the details.”

  An hour later, Gracie had three new outfits and made an offer to look at Vee’s website and get back to her with suggestions. Gracie guessed her one and a half years at university had come in handy because the project looked like fun. Something else she could add to her colorful work record, with the added bonus of helping two of the nicest women she’d met in a long time. She’d also told the women they were welcome to use the sketches she’d drawn for Charlie. Like her dad said when he’d found her folders full of drawings, no one was going to pay for her daydreaming doodles.

  Vee rang up Gracie’s and the girls’ purchases. “We’ll see you in two weeks at Nat’s place for a dress fitting? Hopefully by then Savannah’s made up her mind.”

  “I’ll be there,” Gracie said.

  “And you’re coming around to play with Olivia next Saturday.” Natalie handed Morgan her bag containing the blue shirt and a pair of khaki sporty-styled three-quarter-length pants.

  “Mummm,” Olivia groaned. “We’re hanging out. We’re not five, and it’s not a playdate. Jeez. You’re sooo embarrassing.”

  “Parenting win, girls!” Natalie held up a fist to bump, first to Vee then to Gracie.

  Gracie tapped Natalie’s fist and laughed, a warm glow curling around her heart. Day two in Bounty Bay was proving to be just as magical as day one.

  Chapter 7

  Gracie and the girls were unloading bags of steak, sausages, and tomato sauce when Owen received a work text—a vehicle with two passengers had collided with an oncoming truck.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Go on without me if you need to.” He dodged past them with a quick wave and disappeared into his car.

  If Gracie didn’t know better—and she didn’t—she’d swear the man was morbidly cheerful at having a legitimate excuse to leave the four of them behind.

  “It’s a beautiful day to save lives,” she’d said to the disappearing flash of brake lights as he drove down the hill.

  The afternoon passed in a blur, with William printing out p
ages of a story he’d written to show Glen, Charlie creating activity stations for her and Lauren’s son, Drew, and Morgan and Gracie making potato salad and fresh coleslaw. Once all the preparations were finished, Gracie suggested Morgan change into her new shirt and pants.

  Morgan gnawed on her bottom lip. “I don’t know. Lauren and Savannah are coming. They’re both so beautiful.”

  Gracie continued to rinse off the chef’s knives they’d used. “Yeah. Maybe they’ll take one look at us in our new clothes and laugh like hyenas. Hashtag, mean girls.”

  Morgan’s eyes widened. “No, they wouldn’t.”

  “No?” Gracie kept her features poker-game straight. “Why’s that?”

  Morgan paused, her forehead creasing. “Because your brother was nice to us when he visited.” Her dark gaze met Gracie’s. “So I guess he wouldn’t want to marry Savannah if she was mean—even if she is pretty.”

  “Savannah’s prettiness is the least interesting thing about her. She’s kind and funny and loyal. And she has a heart for teaching kids to be confident and proud of who they are in her drama classes.”

  “It’s hard to be confident and proud of who you are.” When you look like I do, the girl’s miserable gaze seemed to say.

  “I know, Morg.”

  Morgan lightly kicked the bottom of the sink cabinet with her toe. Bang-bang-bang. “You don’t know what it’s like to be me.”

  Gracie dried the knife in her hand and slotted it back into the wooden block. “Nope, I don’t know exactly what it’s like to be you. But I do know what it’s like being thirteen and feeling like an ugly duckling who’ll never, ever turn into a swan.”

  Morgan’s gaze slid sideways toward the open-plan living room, where Charlie sat sorting a pile of Legos into different colors.

  “My mum was beautiful. Everyone says so. But I look more like my dad. Dark and stocky.”

  The last few words were said in a voice so raw that Gracie’s lungs were crushed by the tightness squeezing her chest. Before she could think of anything to say, Morgan’s I don’t give a crap mask slotted back into place.

  “I’ll go shower and get changed.” Morgan walked to the kitchen door then glanced over her shoulder. “You should wear the hippie dress. It looked nice on you.”

  Thirty minutes later, chaos ensued when Lauren, Nate, Drew, Savannah, and Glen all climbed out of Nate’s Range Rover, accompanied by an enormous rottweiler called Java, who sniffed Gracie and the kids’ hands politely. Introductions were made, since Gracie had never met newlyweds Lauren and Nate Fraser in person.

  Lauren, a natural blonde with a ready smile and cheekbones to die for, was every bit as sweet as Savannah had described over the phone. Little remained of the catwalk model she used to be, bar her height. She hugged Gracie as if they were old friends. “I’m so excited to meet you. I can’t wait to have a cohort to plan Sav’s hen’s night with.”

  “Gracie does make an excellent cohort,” Glen said.

  Her brother, wearing shorts and flip-flops, looked more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. More relaxed—and more in love than ever with his bride-to-be.

  Glen slid two six-packs into Owen’s fridge, and once his hands were empty, pulled Gracie in for a fierce hug, lifting her off her feet. “Just keep the entertainment G-rated, ’kay?”

  Behind him, Savannah pulled a face at Gracie. “Sheesh. You’re no fun. Lauren planned to ask Dr. Dreamy if he did any moonlighting as a burlesque dancer.”

  Lauren’s husband, Nate, who had his quietly giggling stepson clinging to him in a piggyback ride, crouched so the boy could climb down.

  Nate snorted as he rose to his full height again, his green eyes sparkling. “Yeah, nah. My mate Sam has known Owen since high school. He said Owen wouldn’t even go to his final school ball because his dancing skills sucked so bad.”

  He shoulder-checked Glen as he passed by him to the fridge. “Unlike you, twinkle toes. Maybe you could give the man some lessons.”

  Glen laughed. “Mate, as groomsman, your signature shuffle won’t cut it on the dance floor either. Maybe I should offer you some pointers while I’m at it.”

  Charlie remained close to Gracie’s side during all the introductions and banter. She watched Drew from behind the tie-dyed folds of Gracie’s new dress, while Drew also cast shy glances back at her.

  “Whatever.” Nate pulled a couple of beers from the fridge and tossed one to Glen. Then he crouched in front of Gracie. “Hey, Charlie. Would you like to come outside with me and Drew and play fetch with Java?”

  Charlie eased out from behind Gracie’s legs. “Does the doggy bite?”

  “No, he doesn’t bite,” Drew answered for his stepdad. “But Java does slobber all over the ball, so you can throw first if you want.”

  Java gave a deep woof from the open back door at the sound of his name. Charlie and Drew, accompanied by William and the two men, went outside onto the newly mown lawn, Nate whistling for the dog.

  Savannah, looking stunning as always in a pair of capri pants and a floaty blue tunic top—very similar to Morgan’s new outfit—squeezed Gracie in a bear hug and then turned to Morgan.

  “You have excellent taste in clothes,” she said. “And the most gorgeous hair I’ve ever seen.”

  Morgan’s face flushed rose-pink and she ducked her head. “Thanks.”

  “I agree,” Lauren said. “Those curls—gah! It would take me hours with a curling wand and they wouldn’t look half as beautiful.”

  Gracie caught Morgan’s gaze and smiled as she moved to the kitchen cabinet to get the glassware. Lauren and Savannah continued to chat easily with Morgan as Gracie poured each of them a drink, and the conversation soon turned to Savannah’s wedding.

  “Vee and Nat really liked Gracie’s sketches,” Morgan said when the topic of bridesmaids’ dresses arose. “They thought she should design the bridesmaids’ dresses.”

  Savannah’s gaze zipped to Gracie, as did Lauren’s.

  “That would save you both hating my guts if I pick out something off the rack you consider hideous.” Savannah tilted her head. “Could you do it, Gracie?”

  It was Gracie’s turn for heat to crawl over her cheekbones. She opened a bag of mini pretzels and dumped them into a bowl. “It’s just a hobby. I’ve never shown my sketches to anyone before, let alone had them made into real garments.”

  “Look—” Morgan said.

  Charlie’s sketch pad slid across the island counter. While Gracie was stalling, Morgan must’ve run to Charlie’s backpack to retrieve the pad.

  “They’re really good,” Morgan added.

  Gracie lunged for it, but Lauren was faster. She snatched up the pad with a chuckle.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Lauren flicked over the top page, her hazel eyes widening. “Savvy, check these out!”

  Savannah hopped off her bar stool and peered over Lauren’s shoulder. A small beat passed as Savannah’s gaze scanned the page then her lips stretched into a wide smile.

  “Morgan’s right. You are good—and you’re totally in charge of designing bridesmaid dresses,” Savannah said. “I’ll e-mail you a photo of my gown. I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”

  From outside the house came the rumble of a car engine and Java’s deafening intruder alert barks.

  Morgan rushed to the kitchen window. “Uncle Owen’s home already.”

  Warmth flushed through Gracie, carried by the rapid thudding of her heartbeat. A visceral reaction due to the validation of a talent she’d never been bold enough to explore. Of course.

  But a small part of her recognized the symptoms were connected to something more powerful than validation. Something keener, something hotter. Something like an undeniable gravitational pull to a man, which she hadn’t felt in years.

  ***

  “Can we talk privately?” Glen asked in a low voice close to Gracie’s ear an hour later.

  Gracie straightened, leaving behind Glen’s fresh beer she’d just placed on the outside table. A
cross from him, Savannah and Lauren continued to chat with Morgan. Charlie and Drew played piggy in the middle with Java on the back lawn, with William supervising. The dog technically wasn’t playing since he’d crashed out in the triangle the kids made, exhausted by the earlier game of fetch.

  And Owen? Well, Owen had arrived home and with a quick wave, disappeared into his room. He’d re-emerged after a few minutes, wearing a pair of worn-soft jeans and a charcoal-colored tee shirt, his tattoo peeping from beneath the short sleeve, which stretched snugly around the bulge of his biceps. So the man could do casual. And do it in such a way that pleasurable tingles skipped up and down her spine. Thankfully, he was helping Nate man the barbecue on the front deck. Out of sight and out of mind…but not really.

  “Sure.” Gracie stole a large swallow of Glen’s beer. God knew she’d need it. One big-brother lecture, coming right up. Best to get it over with. “I’ll show you the guest room, where I’m staying.”

  She headed down the side of the house, Glen following a few steps behind.

  Savannah had given her a quiet heads-up earlier, warning Gracie her brother’s feathers were a bit ruffled after she’d called him the night before to say she was both temporarily employed…and that her new employer insisted she live “on-site.”

  “Remind him how well it went down when my cousin warned me off moving in with Glen after my darling caravan got flattened by a tree,” Savannah had said. “I put Nate in his place and did what I needed to do. Feel free to do the same with your bull-headed brother.” Then Savannah had given Gracie a small, knowing smile. “Though I’m sure, unlike with me and Glen, that you and Owen are on strictly professional, au pair-employer terms.”

  “Exactly.” But man—it’d been a challenge for Gracie to keep her face locked in neutral.

  Gracie slid open the door to the large, sunny room beside the garage and stepped inside. A hotel-neutral color scheme decorated the box-shaped space, with an equally neutral bathroom on one side. The décor had a not offensive to the eye vibe, but Gracie itched to brighten it up with some actual personality. If it were hers, she’d hang spinning color catchers in the window, find some local artist’s paintings to break up the empty walls, and toss throw pillows on the small sofa in front of the bed.

 

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