Grace (The Family Simon Book 5)

by Juliana Stone

  Cooper set his mug down. “A week I guess.”

  “And I’m just finding out now?” Okay. Grace had never been the overly emotional type, but what the hell? Why was she the last to know? And why were there tears pricking the corners of her damn eyes? Again?

  “Tucker called you, darlin’. He said you didn’t get back to him and asked me to let you know.”

  Right. He’d called a few days earlier and she’d been so busy she forgot.

  “Oh, sorry. He did call,” she admitted, taking a sip from Jack Frost.

  Cooper’s eyes saw too much and she glanced away. Her gaze landed on a couple a few tables over. They were smack dab in the middle of a very busy and very loud pub, yet the two of them were so caught up in each other Grace bet they wouldn’t know if a freaking earthquake ripped The Black Dog in two.

  The man held her hand, gently stroking his fingers across her knuckles and he leaned forward, kissing her on the cheek and smiling into her face. It was an intimate moment and Grace felt as if she should look away…yet she couldn’t.

  “You want to talk about it?” Cooper asked quietly.

  She shook her head and sighed, turning back to her cocktail. “No.”

  “Okay. But can I just give you a little piece of advice?”

  Grace’s head jerked up and she looked at her cousin in disbelief. “Don’t take this the wrong way Coop, but you’re the last person I’d expect to give any kind of relationship advice I’d actually listen to.”

  Cooper took another sip of ale. “I know my track record sucks.”

  “Sucks? You’ve never been in a serious relationship, at least not that I’m aware of. It’s not a secret. Everybody knows that.”

  Grace fell silent, and she studied her cousin. He looked serious. Dead serious. There was something in his eyes that told her things were a hell of a lot more complicated than what she knew.

  “Some people are better at hiding their scars but that doesn’t mean they hurt any less. Doesn’t mean they don’t cut just as deep. What it means is that some of us take longer to deal with stuff. And if you know someone like that…”

  His meaning was clear and Grace’s eyes dropped.

  “You might need to decide whether they’re worth the wait. Whether the pain they caused is worth the wait. And if they are, and if it is, you’ve got to be patient.”

  Grace grabbed her straw and swirled the electric blue drink around the glass. She took a sip and settled back into her chair, watching her cousin closely.

  “You started out saying some people and then you said, some of us.” Cooper didn’t look away. “You said some of us take longer to deal with stuff. Are you still dealing with…stuff?”

  Cooper glanced away. He caught sight of the couple, still caught up in each other. And then he grabbed his mug and held it up. “I am. Maybe one day I’ll find someone who’s patient enough to deal with my shit.” He took a good, long drink and Grace did the same. “Maybe I won’t.”

  Grace finished her drink. “I hope you do,” she said softly, reaching across to squeeze his hand.

  He didn’t reply. He ordered another round and the two of them fell into an animated discussion about the gala. He had some great ideas and she was sad to learn he’d be unable to attend.

  “I didn’t know you had a place in New England.”

  “No?” Cooper grinned. “That’s good. It’s a secret, so don’t go spreading it around.”

  She frowned. “You’re not staying with Maverick?”

  “Nah. My place is just outside of the town he lives in. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be with family for the holidays.” He paused. “What about you? What are you plans?”

  “I’ve got the gala on Christmas eve. Betty Jo and Beau are going to be there and so will Mom and Dad, at least for a while. They’re leaving just before midnight for the south of France to join Tucker and Abby.”

  “You’re not going?”

  She shook her head. “No. Wasn’t feeling it. I told Mom I’d be with Betty and Beau—they’re heading back to Michigan, but the truth is I’m staying put. Matt will be in New Waterford and I’m not sure I could handle seeing him just yet.” She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t tell Mom because she won’t let it go and I’d rather be alone than stuck with a bunch of people who are in love and complete and, ugh, nauseatingly happy.”

  “I get it. I won’t say a thing.”

  Cooper kept Grace’s mind off of the sad state of her personal life for the rest of the evening, and it was nearly eleven when his cab dropped her off at her brother’s apartment building. She hugged her cousin fiercely.

  “Thanks,” she whispered. “I needed that.”

  Cooper kissed her forehead and then gazed down at her. “I don’t know what Matt Hawkins’ deal is. But I do know that he’s got to be a decent guy or Betty Jo would never give him the time of day. Now, knowing that doesn’t change the fact that he might not ever get his shit together. He might not ever deal with whatever it is that’s got him spooked. And that’s not on you. That’s on him. Got it?”

  She nodded. “Have a great Christmas, Coop, and tell Rick I said hello.”

  She watched the car until it disappeared and then headed into the building. The doorman, Davis, gave her a big smile and a wave and for the first time in days she answered in kind.

  She entered her brother’s apartment and wandered through the silent rooms until she stopped at the large window overlooking Central Park. She pressed her heated cheeks against the cool glass and stared down into the darkness, wondering where Matt was. What he was doing? Was he happy? Or was he as miserable as she was?

  Christmas lights twinkled from below and she squeezed her eyes shut. What was that she heard? Grace held her breath and concentrated. Music? Someone singing?

  She listened carefully and a slow smile spread across her face as she began to hum along. It must be coming from the apartment next door.

  I’ll be home for Christmas...

  The words sank in. Their meaning sank in. And with a start, she jerked back from the glass. What the hell was she doing? She thought back to her mother’s words and felt a jolt of electricity roll through her. No way was Grace going to let Matt dictate her actions. She had some things to say and he was going to listen. Even if she had to tie him down and stick a damn cloth in his mouth.

  She knew what she needed to do and it didn’t involve any kind of waiting. She’d get through the gala and head to Michigan with her brother Beau and Betty Jo.

  Grace smiled as a surge of the old fire hit her square in the gut. She smiled and hummed a few more bars of the Christmas song.

  I’ll be home for Christmas.

  She was done waiting. Done being sad and miserable. Life was too short for that kind of apathy.

  You can plan on me….

  Matt Hawkins wouldn’t know what hit him.

  32

  Matt brought Justin back to New Waterford right after their father’s funeral. Delilah had been MIA for days until she showed up just in time for the wake. She’d proceeded to get shitfaced drunk and after being inappropriate to several members of his father’s squad, Matt asked her to leave.

  She was primed to make a scene but all Matt had to do was mention the fact that she’d abandoned a minor, and he had no problem reporting her to the cop who, only moments earlier, she’d been all over.

  “You can’t do that,” she’d spat. But he saw the fear in her eyes.

  “Don’t push me.” Matt spied Justin a few feet away. The kid looked so damn lost and angry. “He’s coming back to New Waterford with me.”

  She never batted an eye. Hell, she put up no fight whatsoever and now, weeks later, Matt was pretty damn sure it had been her plan all along. The estate was a mess—turns out she had a bit of a gambling problem and Nevada had become her best friend—but he was dealing with it.

  Funny how things worked out. Less than two months ago, he’d been alone. Minding his own business, restoring his cars for the clients who paid him well
to do so. Playing hockey on Friday nights, hanging with the boys, and occasionally getting busy with whatever woman caught his eyes.

  Now look at him.

  He had a dog and a kid living in his house. And hell, Dory was here every other night for dinner. All he needed to complete this picture of domestic bliss was…

  All he needed was Grace.

  “Shit,” he muttered, yanking on his hand and freeing it from under the carburetor he’d been working on. It was bleeding and he swore as he headed over to the sink.

  Justin watched him from across the room. The kid had taken to cars like a fish to water and for the past several days, he’d been working on an engine rebuild. Justin had a lot of issues, and most of the time getting the kid to speak was like pulling teeth. But when the two of them were out here, working on the cars, it seemed easier.

  “Who’s Grace?” Justin asked, turning back to the engine.

  “Huh?” Matt grabbed a towel and leaned against the sink.

  “You just swore a blue streak and said the name Grace, like two times. I just wondered who she is.”

  “Grace Simon is...”

  Justin’s head whipped up so fast Matt was surprised it didn’t snap. He saw the wheels turning—the kid was smart.

  “Grace Simon? Like Beau Simon’s sister?” Justin was still amazed that Betty Jo Barker was his best friend, and the fact that she was married to the Hollywood superstar was a bonus.

  Matt scooped up a bandage from under the sink. “Yes. That would be the one.”

  “She’s hot. Those Kardashian chicks have nothing on her.”

  Matt had to agree with Justin there.

  “How well do you know her?”

  Matt stared down at the blood across his knuckles. “I know her pretty well,” he finally said.

  “How well?”

  The blood now spilled between his fingers and he watched as a few drops fell to the ground. His chest was tight and all those old feelings came back with a vengeance. Had he really thought to keep them supressed? Was he that dumb?

  “I know her well enough to miss her more than I’ve ever missed anyone.”

  “So she’s like your girlfriend?” Awe clung to Justin’s words and Matt glanced up at him.

  “She was. I guess.”

  Justin made an, are-you-kidding-me face. “How can you not know whether someone is your girlfriend or not? Especially when she’s as hot as Grace Simon. Dude, that doesn’t even make sense.”

  Matt would have liked to have said something clever, but his brother was right.

  “So why did you break up?” Justin tossed his towel and stared at Matt expectantly.

  This entire conversation was making Matt more than a little uncomfortable. “We…I…”

  Fuck. He had no excuse. He had nothing but the truth and for once he was going to tell it.

  “I screwed up. I pushed her away because I’m a dumbass.”

  Justin’s eyebrows rose so high he looked comical, and then he laughed. An honest to goodness laugh that eventually kick-started something light and good inside Matt. Before he knew it, he was laughing along with his brother and the two of them must have looked as if they were off their rockers when Dory entered the barn.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked. The woman had a hard enough time as it was trudging through the snow, but here she was with a wiggling bundle of fur in her arms. Her pea green coat was too big and the red and black plaid boots she wore sure as shit made some kind of statement. Matt just wasn’t sure what it was.

  He walked over to Dory and tickled Rookie under the muzzle. The pup yipped and tried to eat his fingers before licking every inch of his hand with a very wet tongue. “I was just telling Justin that I screwed everything up with Grace.”

  Who knew that a chance exchange with his teenage brother would do more good for Matt than therapy ever would have.

  “You sure did.” The older woman nodded. “I miss her.”

  “Yeah,” Matt murmured.

  Dory moved so that he was forced to look into her eyes. “I miss her,” she repeated, handing him the puppy. “But you love her.”

  “Jesus,” Justin said, turning back to his engine. “The shit’s getting real now.”

  Dory put her hands on her hips. “That there gala she was working on is tomorrow night, you know.”

  Matt stared at her, wondering where this was going. He knew about the gala. Betty Jo and Beau had headed to the Big Apple the day before.

  “It’s in New York City. I hear you can make the drive in ten hours or so, or catch a plane and be there in two.”

  Matt’s mouth dropped open and it took a few moments for him to find his voice. “I can’t just leave, Dory. I’ve got responsibilities now. I’ve got Justin and Rosie to look after.” He pointed to the ’56 Plymouth. “That car is supposed to be delivered before the new year and I’ve got another job booked right after.”

  “Those are excuses, Mathew. You need Grace. End of story. I know you know that. So why aren’t you doing something about it?”

  “I can’t just leave,” he said again, looking to his brother for something. But the kid shrugged and reached for a tool. He sure as hell wasn’t offering up any help.

  “Sure you can.” Dory winked at him. “And take that dog with you.”

  33

  The gala was in full swing before Grace had a moment to catch her breath. She found a quiet corner, back near the silent auction table, and sipped her champagne. The bubbles made her nose itchy and she rubbed at it, glancing at her watch once more

  It was approaching nine o’clock and she still had a few more hours before she left with Beau and Betty.

  Nervous at the thought, she smoothed the front of her deep red silk gown. A Gucci, it fit her like a glove—a pencil thin, elegant and simple glove. Strapless, the dress emphasized her chest in a not-so-subtle fashion, and judging from the looks sent her way, her butt looked pretty damn good too.

  Betty Jo had told her to wear it home to Michigan. Said Matt would die when he saw her in it.

  She giggled and finished her glass of Dom Perignon before handing it off to a waiter and grabbing another. Courage. She needed courage. She took a sip and leaned back against the wall, enjoying the Christmas music and the couples that filled the dance floor. Her parents swept by, their love for each other shining like a beacon among the crowd.

  It made Grace’s heart swell.

  “I want that,” she whispered. Only with Matt.

  “Miss Simon?”

  She turned to her intern, Bailey Devlin, who’d been assisting with the gala. A fresh-faced, college grad not unlike herself a few years ago, he’d been a godsend. And he blushed profusely when she smiled at him.

  “It’s time,” he said, pointing to the podium at the front of the ballroom. “We’ve got the final figures ready for you.”

  “Wonderful.” Grace reached for the crisp envelope. “Let’s do this.”

  She grabbed her parents on her way up and signalled at Beau to follow suit. Betty was nowhere to be seen and Beau shrugged when she asked for her whereabouts. The band finished playing and after the crowd grew silent, Grace approached the mike.

  The Simon family foundation raised funds extensively, and most of their allocated monies were earmarked for wildlife preservation. But the Christmas gala was different. All monies raised on this night were set aside for children’s charities and this year the funds were being awarded to schools in need. Food programs would be shored up, computers bought for classes and supplies given to those who needed them.

  Grace was happy to let the gathered crowd know that the evening had been a success and that they’d blown their monetary goal out of the water. She thanked each and every one of them for their time and money—for their kindness and their giving spirit. She was in the middle of introducing several key players—those who’d helped make the night a success, and yes that included the chef who’d been a pain in her butt—when something happened.

  People starte
d murmuring—looking away from her and motioning with their hands. At first she was annoyed because, seriously, how rude was that? But then she heard a yip. Or a bark. Or something that didn’t belong in this grand ballroom. And the crowd parted like the red sea.

  It was a bark. A small, excited bark.

  Grace stilled. She closed her eyes and tried to keep her heart from beating out of her chest. When she finally managed to get that done, she realized the entire room was dead silent.

  All she could hear were her breaths falling from her body. A rustle of silk. A cough. And a whine and a bark.

  As if in a dream, she slowly opened her eyes.

  “Oh.” She slammed them shut again, because in that moment, she couldn’t deal with what was in front of her. And she didn’t want to fall apart in front of hundreds of strangers.

  “Hey.”

  “No. Not yet,” she said, barely able to talk.

  “Bluebell, look at me.”

  The voice was directly in front of her and she had no choice. Grace opened her eyes and knew she would never forget this image as long as she lived.

  Matt Hawkins looked like every woman’s dream. The cut of his black tux was exquisite and damn but it looked good on him. His dark hair gleamed beneath the muted lighting, and that devastating smile was aimed directly at her.

  The kicker? In his arms was a puppy all tied up in a big red bow. Her puppy. Her Rookie.

  “Merry Christmas,” Matt said slowly. “You look—“

  She didn’t give him a chance to answer. She took that last step forward and claimed his mouth. Grace kissed Matt as if she was dying and he responded in kind. The fact that they stood in front of hundreds of strangers didn’t matter because, in that moment, they were in a world of their own.

  When she finally came up for air, the band had kicked into another set of Christmas music. Aware that a great many of the patrons were still looking at them, and that her family stood several feet away, Grace grabbed Matt’s hand.

  “Come with me.”

  She kissed Rookie and handed him off to Betty Jo (who’d appeared from nowhere) and then led Matt to the kitchen. The staff was preparing to serve the buffet and they looked up in surprise as Grace and Matt strode through. She didn’t stop walking until she reached a small alcove near the kitchen manager’s office.