Amazing Gracie

by Sherryl Woods

  “Perhaps Max would prefer to have a glass of wine,” Helen suggested mildly. “A nice Bordeaux, perhaps?”

  “Perfect,” he said, gazing at her with frank approval.

  “I’m afraid my wine cellar is a little low on Bordeaux,” Gracie said without much regret. As if struck by a sudden brainstorm, she said, “Maybe you could show Max the best place in town to buy wine.”

  Helen laughed. “You mean the only place. Max, I would be happy to take you, if you’re not too tired from your trip.”

  Max demurred with a frown. “I cannot leave so soon after I’ve arrived. Gracie and I have important matters to discuss.”

  “Oh, believe me, Max, those can wait,” Gracie assured him. “I’ll be right here when you and Helen get back.”

  He seemed puzzled by the response. “You would not mind?”

  “Of course not. Take your time. I should have thought to have the Bordeaux here myself.”

  “But this is such a short visit and we have so much to discuss,” he repeated worriedly.

  Even so, she noticed, his gaze kept straying to Helen.

  “I’ll be here when you get back,” Gracie assured him. “Our business won’t take all that long.”

  “You could call Kevin,” Helen suggested slyly. “We could make it a party.”

  At the mention of Kevin, Max’s lips thinned. “Yes, do. I would like to see this man for myself.”

  Gracie wouldn’t have drawn Kevin into this little gathering for a million bucks, but rather than say that, she just nodded, hoping that an indication of acquiescence would keep Helen from calling him herself.

  “We’ll be back in no time,” Helen promised, dashing down the walk with Max in tow.

  That had been easy, almost too easy. Either Helen was awfully eager to be alone with Max or she simply wanted him away from Gracie to protect her cousin’s interests. Whatever her motivation, it suited Gracie just fine. She watched them go, and carefully covered a smile of pure delight.

  When they were out of sight, she went back inside, hid all the Bordeaux she’d bought in anticipation of Max’s arrival, poured herself a glass of inexpensive chardonnay that would have appalled Max and headed for a rocker on the porch. It promised to be a long evening, and with any luck she wanted her nerves dulled for most of it.

  She offered up a silent toast to Helen, thanking the gods for her timely appearance. So far, keeping Max occupied had been disgustingly easy. If his visit were short enough and luck was with her, she might never spend a single second of it alone with him.

  14

  The call was so hushed that Kevin thought at first it was from some sort of blackmailer. It wouldn’t have been the first time one cousin or another had been targeted by someone hoping for easy money.

  “Whatever you want, I’m not in the mood,” he snapped, and hung up when he couldn’t understand the hissed, urgent message. He almost tossed the portable phone across the yard, but instinct told him it would be ringing again. Sure enough, it rang again, almost at once. Somebody adept at speed-dialing, obviously.

  “Kevin, don’t you dare hang up,” Helen whispered, this time more distinctly.

  “Helen?”

  “Yes, you idiot. It’s me.”

  “Why all the cloak-and-dagger stuff?”

  “Because I’m with Max Devereaux.”

  “Who?”

  “Gracie’s friend. I’ve abducted him. We’re at the liquor store.”

  “Robbing the place?” Kevin inquired hopefully. Seeing Max locked away for a good long time in a windowless cell would cheer him up considerably.

  “Heavens, no. We’re searching for the perfect Bordeaux,” she explained. “He finds the choices appallingly lacking in sophistication.”

  The comment confirmed his worst suspicions about the man. “He would,” he said dryly. “How did you manage to get hooked up with him? Where’s Gracie?”

  “At home, and it’s a long story. I suggested she call you, but something told me she wouldn’t. I think dropping in about now would be a very smart idea.”

  “What for?”

  “To protect your interests, of course.”

  “You’re assuming I have any interests to protect.”

  “Kevin, stop arguing and get over there. I have to go.”

  She clicked off her cell phone and went back to whatever undercover operation she assumed she was masterminding. Thinking about it, he couldn’t help grinning. Helen was as fierce as a doberman and clever as a cat burglar when it came to protecting those she cared about. Obviously he was to be the beneficiary of her latest scheme. The woman had had way too much time on her hands since Henry’s death. If she wanted to keep Max occupied during his visit, who was Kevin to argue.

  That didn’t mean he was going to race straight over to Gracie’s. He settled back in the hammock and set it to swaying. He closed his eyes…and envisioned Gracie in the arms of another man.

  Two seconds later he was on his feet and heading for his car. Driving by wouldn’t be the same as dropping in. He could survey the situation from a distance, maybe catch a glimpse of this man who was so all-fired determined to steal Gracie away from Virginia. Gracie wouldn’t even have to know he’d been in the neighborhood.

  Naturally, though, that would have been too easy. She spotted him right off from her perch in a rocker on her front porch. She was all alone and a little tipsy, judging from the rather vague wave she sent in his direction. Kevin braked to a stop in front of the house. He sighed and cut the engine. He didn’t like the implications of Gracie’s drunkenness one little bit.

  “Hey, Kevin!” she called out as if she were actually delighted to see him.

  He walked slowly toward her, pausing at the foot of the steps.

  “Did I invite you over?” she asked, regarding him intently.

  “Nope.”

  “Didn’t think so.”

  “Gracie, are you drunk?”

  Her eyes widened at the accusation. “No way. I don’t drink.”

  “What’s in the glass?”

  “Just a little wine. Can’t make me drunk.”

  “I beg to differ. Maybe we should try walking it off.”

  She shook her head at that, then clutched it as if the motion had made it spin. “Whoa,” she murmured.

  Kevin beckoned to her. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  “Can’t,” she insisted.

  “Why not?”

  “Legs don’t work.”

  “They will,” Kevin said grimly and helped her out of the chair. “Put your arm around my waist.”

  “Okay,” she said, and snuggled against him. “Nice.”

  Kevin’s heartbeat took off like a 727 on a rapid climb. He gritted his teeth and concentrated on keeping her upright.

  “Why are you drinking, Gracie? Does Max’s visit have you that upset?”

  “Haven’t seen Max,” she said, not unhappily. “Not for hours and hours. He left with Helen.” She nodded. “Nice woman, Helen. Like her a lot.”

  “I had no idea you and my cousin were so close.”

  “Just met.”

  “When?”

  “Today, right before Max got here.”

  “What fortunate timing,” Kevin said wryly. He wasn’t sure whether to kill his cousin or thank her. Obviously Helen had been a very busy woman. Maybe he should recommend she get a job so she’d stop meddling in his life.

  He studied Gracie, who was concentrating intently on putting one foot in front of the other, the tip of her tongue caught between her lips. Another jolt of pure lust shot through him. He picked up the pace, which meant he wound up virtually carrying Gracie.

  “Whoa,” she murmured, a pleading note in her voice.

  “Too fast?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Gracie, if you have to get drunk to face Max, that should tell you something, don’t you think?”

  She lifted her gaze to his. “What?” she inquired dreamily.

  Obviously this was not the time to try
to make a point, he concluded. “Never mind.”

  “Kevin?”

  “Yes, Gracie.”

  “You’re a nice man,” she said. She patted his cheek. “Very nice man.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You won’t go away when Max comes back, will you?”

  “No, Gracie, I won’t go away.”

  She nodded. “Good.”

  Kevin didn’t see anything good about it. She was testing the limits of his control.

  “Don’t want to go back to France,” she said.

  “Nobody’s going to make you go back to France.”

  “Max could,” she said, her head bobbing up and down.

  “No, he can’t. Not unless it’s what you want.”

  “He’ll offer me lots and lots of money.”

  Kevin had never before considered what Gracie’s financial situation might be. She’d certainly seemed to be getting along okay. She was thinking about buying a very expensive waterfront house. She couldn’t be flat broke.

  Still, perhaps she did need to get a job. He supposed she couldn’t live forever on whatever she’d saved. No wonder she was so anxious to get her hands on Aunt Delia’s house in a hurry. She probably needed to get a business up and running before she ran out of cash.

  “Don’t worry about the money, Gracie. We’ll figure something out,” Kevin promised.

  There were plenty of other choice properties available that might serve Gracie’s purpose. He’d check them out himself first thing in the morning, then steer her toward one of those if she was determined to stay here and open a bed-and-breakfast.

  If all else failed and Delia agreed, he’d have to reconsider selling her the Victorian that had been in his mother’s family for generations. It was his one direct link to the side of the family that had never made any real demands on him. He hated the thought of giving it up, of seeing it turned into a commercial venture.

  He glanced over and noted that Gracie seemed to be walking with a little less difficulty staying upright. By the time they had circled the block, she was almost steady on her feet. She still clung to him, though, which made him wonder. Was she as confused by her feelings for him as he was by his for her? The possibility offered some comfort.

  As they turned toward her house, her steps slowed. Kevin glanced ahead and saw that Helen’s car was parked in front of the house.

  “Uh-oh,” Gracie said softly. “They’re back.”

  Kevin folded her hand in his. “Don’t worry about a thing, darlin’. I’m right here beside you.”

  Gracie had only a dim recollection of the first meeting between Kevin and Max. Despite the walk that Kevin had dragged her on, she’d been surprisingly muddle-headed from her two glasses of wine. Maybe she’d just wanted to get drunk and willed it. She had noted that Max and Helen were getting along nicely, noted Kevin and Max were shooting daggers at each other, then politely excused herself and wandered off to bed.

  Okay, it was the coward’s way out, but no one had objected too violently. In fact, judging from the tension in the air, she wasn’t so sure anyone had even noticed.

  She’d slept straight through until morning, then awakened with just enough of a hangover, to make her wonder if it had been two bottles, not two glasses of wine. She vowed never to touch another glass of anything stronger than water. Obviously she did not have a head for alcohol. Apparently she’d sipped a lot less wine in France than she’d recalled.

  When she went downstairs, she found Max already in the kitchen, sitting glumly at the table with a cup of coffee. Since she doubted he’d made it himself, it was probably yesterday’s. At this point, though, any caffeine was better than none. She poured herself a cup and sat down opposite him.

  “Feeling better?” he inquired tightly.

  “Much,” she lied, forcing a smile. “Did you enjoy your evening with Helen?”

  “Helen and Kevin,” he corrected. “I don’t get it, Gracie. He doesn’t seem your type at all.”

  “What do you know about my type?”

  “You forget, I met several of the men you dated in France. They were all suave and sophisticated.”

  Yep, there was a contrast there, all right. “Kevin grows on you,” she said simply. “Besides, we’re not dating. He’s a friend.”

  “Really? He seems to think it’s more than that.”

  She stared at Max suspiciously. “What did he say?”

  “In so many words, he warned me off.”

  “Tell me exactly what he said.”

  “Just that you were well taken care of, that you had plans for the future, that sort of thing.”

  “I see.”

  “So, what are your plans?”

  For some reason, Gracie didn’t want to tell Max about the bed-and-breakfast. Maybe she feared some scathing comment. Whatever her reason, she kept silent.

  “Is Kevin involved in these plans?”

  “Yes,” she conceded truthfully. He stood between her and attaining the house she wanted, though she didn’t spell that part out to Max. Let him think what he wanted.

  “I see. Then my coming here was a waste of time?”

  “I told you that before you ever booked the flight.”

  He shrugged. “I thought I could change your mind.”

  Getting through to him had been easier than she’d expected. Now, though, he looked so despondent that Gracie took pity on him. She was certain that look had more to do with his dread of the search for a replacement hotel manager than with losing her, but she tried to cheer him up nonetheless.

  “Stay, Max. Spend a few days now that you’re here. I don’t have many friends. I’d like to keep you in my life.”

  He stared at her, clearly startled. “You think of me as a friend?”

  She grinned. “I imagine I could with a little practice.” She studied him a minute, then added, “And it seemed to me last night that Helen was more than a little interested in getting to know you better.”

  “A lovely woman,” he said, his expression softening. He regarded her closely. “Are you certain I wouldn’t be in the way?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Perhaps I will stay for a day or two then.”

  “Why don’t you call Helen? I’m sure she’d love to show you the sights.”

  He eyed her skeptically. “There are sights?”

  “Yes, Max. Not all of the world’s beauty is tucked away in France. Just one thing, though.”

  “Yes?”

  “If Helen suggests a picnic, lose the suit.”

  He actually laughed at that. “Before or after we are together?”

  “I think I’ll leave that decision up to the two of you.” She stood up. “Now, then, what about breakfast? I’ve actually gotten quite good at it.”

  He stared at her incredulously. “You cook?”

  “Believe it or not,” she told him, and began making an omelet to prove it.

  When she slid the plate in front of Max, his eyes widened with astonishment. “Very nice. Excellent presentation.”

  “Forget the presentation. Taste it.”

  He grinned at her. “Do I dare?”

  “Try it, Max.”

  He took a forkful of the eggs, cheese, onions, and tomato and sighed. “Heavenly. Perhaps I have been a bit too hasty in giving up. I may have an opening for a chef quite soon.”

  “Forget it. I’m not coming back as a chef,” she said, refusing to admit how flattered she was that he’d even made the absurd suggestion.

  “What else can you cook?” Max asked anyway.

  “Never mind.”

  “She’s a whiz with blueberry muffins,” Kevin chimed in, appearing at the back door. He walked in as if it were perfectly natural for him to show up at the crack of dawn. He even paused to drop an affectionate kiss on the tip of her nose. “Any more of that omelet, darlin’?”

  “No, but I’ll make one for you,” Gracie offered, delighted with the chance to show off her skills. This would be good practice for the fut
ure, when guests were likely to be showing up at odd times to be fed.

  “Any scones left?” Kevin asked.

  “I doubt it,” she said. “You eat them faster than I can bake them. Look in that airtight container on the counter.”

  Kevin picked it up, then sighed. “Just crumbs.”

  “Sorry.”

  “You make scones, too?” Max inquired. “I’m afraid I don’t understand this sudden domesticity.”

  “I don’t see why not,” Gracie said defensively. “The same skills that are required to run a hotel are just as essential in running a home.”

  “I suppose. I just never thought you were interested in being a happy little homemaker.” He studied Kevin. “Perhaps things have changed, however.”

  Gracie gritted her teeth. “Max, you only know one side of me, my professional side. You never knew me as a person.”

  “I thought it was all one and the same,” he said.

  “No, that’s the way you live,” Gracie said. “Not me.”

  “If you say so.”

  Kevin edged up behind her at the stove. She could feel his breath fanning across her neck, the beckoning heat of his body. She barely resisted the temptation to lean back against him, to let him literally lend her his support.

  Of course, Kevin’s only interest was in snatching a crisp strip of bacon from the plate she’d been preparing for him. He winked as he made off with his prize.

  He leaned back against the counter and stared at Max with open curiosity. “How long are you sticking around, Max?”

  “Gracie has persuaded me to stay a few more days.”

  Kevin’s gaze shot to her, disbelief in his eyes. “Really?”

  She beamed. “That’s right. Max will be here a few more days.”

  “I see.”

  “Sit down, Kevin. Your breakfast’s ready.” Gracie put the plate on the table.

  Kevin sat, but he didn’t seem to have much of an appetite.

  “Something wrong?” Max inquired cheerfully. “You object to my staying, perhaps?”

  “It’s Gracie’s house.”

  “Yes,” Max agreed. “It is Gracie’s house.”

  The two men glowered at each other. Heaven protect her from territorial males, Gracie thought, scowling herself at the pair of them.