by Anthology
“I need the shoes.”
“But I just got them.” Grace didn’t need to look her in the face to know she was pouting. Her tone wore it better than any expression ever could.
“Please. You can have them for keeps when I’m done.”
“You’re serious about this date.”
“Yes. Something about him feels…I don’t know.”
“Right?”
“Maybe.” Grace eyed her watch. Four hours. Not a lot of time to throw an outfit together, but with Maggie on the job, there’d be no need to panic. Besides, she’d wanted to talk to her since she’d found out about the setup, get something off her mind that had been bothering her. “Do you suppose Geordie knew he was going to die?”
“Grace Daniels, why the hell would you say something like that?”
“It seems like this date was planned as a going away gift. He sold his car, set me up with his best friend. Seriously, it was never like Geordie to let any of his friends near me. He was so protective. It’s like he’s still trying to take care of me. Frank’s the kind of guy I always told my brother I wanted to marry. Funny. Strong. Loves music. It’s not that Frank feels right—he feels comfortable, like I’ve known him all my life, even though I only talked to him for half an hour.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“I don’t know what it is,” Grace blew out a breath. “Weird, how I feel so connected. For now, I’m focusing on the date and having a good time. It’s been forever since I’ve done that.” Her stomach tumbled in nervousness. Frank said it didn’t have to include sex, the one-night stand. He was a total stranger and yet—he wasn’t. The sex part made her the most nervous.
“It’s about time. I’m glad you’re coming out of your shell and going out.” Maggie grabbed her arm. “We’d better get going. We need to get you decked out for a party.”
***
Two hours later Grace stood in front of the mirror, staring at an image from the past. She wore a navy sailor’s style blouse with a square collar in the back and a tie at the front. Her hair was down, but drawn up at the sides and full on top. The white A-line skirt flared out from her waist. It was the kind of fabric that would spin with her as she moved across the floor.
“Holy shit, Grace. You look like a silver screen movie star.”
She smoothed the fabric. A nervous twist in her stomach forced her to swallow hard. The last time she even remotely looked like this, she’d been out on the town with her brother and their friends. It had been two months after they’d moved to Boston to help him grow his music career. Their mother and father told them the city could be dangerous, but their words had gone in one ear and out the other, never taken seriously. They were from a small town and knew nothing about the city. It had a heartbeat. Excitement. So different from the rural life she’d grown up in. And she’d been foolish to ignore their warnings.
That night, a man recently paroled attacked her when she’d walked down the block to her car. If not for her brother, who’d stepped out of the club and into the alley for a smoke at the same time the man grabbed her, she’d be dead. Her attacker had managed to rip her top and pull her behind a dumpster. When he’d shoved her to the ground, she’d hit her head and blacked out. Geordie claimed he’d gotten no further, and the doctors confirmed it. Still, it had damaged her more than physically.
The attempted rapist put her in the hospital. Geordie nearly put him in the ground, was arrested and tried for grievous bodily harm. The judge went easy on her brother, citing that he was defending his sister and his actions justifiable, though he’d gone overboard and nearly beaten the man to death after he’d pulled him off her. Even so, the judge didn’t let him completely off the hook. He stated that Geordie had anger issues he needed to get a grip on before they landed him in prison.
Since her brother was only twenty-one at the time, still young and moldable, the judge ordered him to attend a special boot camp designed to help him get control. If he did, the assault charge would be dismissed. Since the camp was run by ex-Marine Recon and former Navy SEALS, the idea was they’d work the anger out of him. With Geordie, they’d only served to show him his calling, where he belonged.
Even though the rapist didn’t succeed, Geordie became overprotective, calling home whenever he could, having his friends keep an eye on her when he couldn’t. Rarely was there a day Grace could step out of her house without a tail.
When Geordie joined the Army, he paid for self-defense classes, insisting she go. At first she’d dug her heels in, tired of the babysitting, but when he told her he needed her to be okay when he wasn’t around and gave her his infamous puppy-dog eyes, she conceded and joined the local dojo.
Before that, Grace had withdrawn into herself, hiding at home, not enjoying life the way she used to. If not for her martial arts classes four days a week, she would have never left her apartment. Her sensei, a police officer in Lowell figured out that she was hiding, convinced her to stop being a victim and do something to help victims. Now she served as an officer in Westford, where her grandparents left her a house, and loved every minute of it. Still, she hadn’t had the courage to date again, especially without Geordie around to watch out for her.
“Did you hear me?” Maggie poked her in the shoulder. “You look freaking gorgeous. You’ll blow his mind.”
Grace smiled into the mirror. “I will, won’t I? All right, Bugle Guy, come and get it if you dare.” On the outside she was all gusto. On the inside, she was a train wreck waiting to happen. Could she do it?
***
Frank adjusted the khaki green tie. His grandfather’s uniform from WWII hadn’t been worn for over seventy years, but was as serviceable as the day he’d stored it. He’d dropped it off at the dry cleaners, asking them to put creases in the tan pants that could cut anyone who touched them. And they had. It looked sharp, crisp. With Frank’s medals—it had a modern touch.
His grandfather had been a sergeant, like Frank, and like Frank, he’d been a man of stature, tall, broad across the shoulders. The uniform fit him like it had fit his grandfather. If he didn’t know the year, he’d swear it was 1942 and he could hear the boogie woogie brass of Glen Miller’s In the Mood belting out in the background. He’d never been this excited about a date. The woman was beyond perfect, more than he ever would have imagined she could be. Funny he wouldn’t have believed it a year before when Geo tried to set him up. He’d been the first one to throw up his hands and say, whoa. Now that he’d met her, he’d have a hard time not going after her. What man in his right mind wouldn’t?
“I want you to meet my sister,” Geo said. “When I get back.”
“Sorry, no can do. You don’t date your buddy’s sister. It’s in the code.”
“I’m serious, Frank. I think you’d be good for her. She needs a guy like you.”
“A guy like me?”
“Exactly like you.” He slapped him on the back and grinned. “You’re perfect for her. It’s too late to change your mind anyway. I’ve already set you up.”
“Fucker.”
A sense of panic had seized him. Friends were important to him, and George was no exception. Sisters were off limits, and Geo’s sister was more than his sister, she was his twin, and that made her even more forbidden. He’d figured he had a whole year to talk his way out of it since Geo would be deployed for ten months.
When Geo was killed in action two months later, Frank had forgotten about the setup until the letter arrived. Hadn’t that been a surprise? At first he’d been pissed, and then he realized this was the friend who thought he was worthy of his sister, wanted her to meet him bad enough he’d sold his 2011 Camaro and paid for a fancy dating service to give them the night of their lives. How could he say no? Not with the tickets in hand and the date arranged.
It wasn’t without a catch. The only thing the woman who went only by Madame Eve required him to do, was introduce himself to Ms. Daniels. An address or first name would have been nice, but she’d said that George spe
cifically requested he figure it out. If he’d listened to enough details about his sister, he’d know how to find her. Right. He needed to learn to be a better listener. Hell he didn’t even know what town she lived in. Somewhere near Boston.
So he took leave the day before the anniversary of Geo’s death and hauled ass across five states on his Indian 841, to the cemetery, figuring if they were as close as Geo claimed, she’d be there. And so he’d waited, and waited, and after eight hours decided to have a toast to his friend and a drink to calm his nerves, and then another toast, and so on, and so on. By the time she came along, he’d polished off a good portion of his liquid courage and didn’t make quite the first impression he’d hoped to.
Yeah, he may not have impressed her much in the cemetery, but he intended to change that. After meeting her, he knew why Geo wanted to set them up. One look in her eyes and he knew she belonged with him.
***
“You got to see this.” Maggie grabbed Grace and nearly wrenched her arm from the socket as she pulled her over to the window. She used her finger to draw open in the blinds and pointed through the gap. “Look at your freaking chariot,” she squealed.
“My wha…?” Grace leaned down to peer through the blind. Her jaw dropped open. “That’s a Cadillac limousine. Where’d he get…?” A driver dressed in a black 40’s style suit went around to the rear door and opened it. As Frank stepped out and slipped on his hat, Grace gasped and jumped back, the Venetian blind snapped shut. “This is real. I’m really doing this.” She eyed the blind. “I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know him. This is so sudden. Omigod, what was I thinking?”
“If you aren’t, I sure as hell am. Breathe. You did tell me he said the one-night stand thing was an option. You can do this. It’s a date, not your wedding. Calm down. You’ve gone out before.”
“Yes, but….” Not recently. Seeing him coming up the walk wound her nerves tighter. Everything about this setup was so perfect. All her life she’d wanted to meet a man like him, and now that he was on her doorstep, it terrified her.
“But nothing. It’s too late to change your mind. You’re going if I have to stuff you in that limo and escort you there.”
A knock sounded on the door.
Grace bit her lip.
Maggie poked her. “Stop that. You’re getting lipstick on your teeth.”
Frank knocked on the door again.
“I…” Grace ran for her room, “…don’t know if I can do this.”
“Get back here.” Maggie caught her by the collar, halting her retreat. “I’m not letting you do this. George wanted you to have this night, and you’re having it.”
“Fine.” Grace stomped her foot.
“Don’t you cop an attitude now. I spent the entire afternoon helping you get ready for this and gave up the shoes. I’m not letting you run. George trusted this guy. I think you should, too. Give it a chance. Where’s the girl who told him to come and get it?”
“Ready to dive under the bed.” This was the perfect gift and she worried she’d screw it up, or it wouldn’t work out. She worried she’d let George down.
Maggie shoved her toward the door. “You either open that door, or I’m opening it for you.”
“Okay, okay. Don’t push. “
Her friend raised a brow and nodded toward the front entrance.
Grace sighed and strode to the door, pulling it open. Before her, her dream date. Polished up and sober, he looked even more perfect. Hot. Grace braced against the door to keep from swooning. What had she been thinking? There was no way in hell she was running from that.
Frank removed his hat and tucked it under his arm. “You ready to party, Ms. Daniels?”
“Yes.” She glanced back at Maggie and mouthed “thank you.” Back was the calm he seemed to bring with him, that familiarity that felt so right. He could never be a mistake, and neither was this night. “Let’s party.”
He walked her to the limo where the driver opened the door. Grace glanced across the street. Her elderly neighbor stood on her front lawn, watching alongside her best friend, Ethel. They never went anywhere without each other, so it shouldn’t be a surprise to see them, but it was the way they were watching her that made her nervous. Like vultures over a fresh carcass. They loved to gossip, nearly as much as they loved to spy. And no good could come from it.
Frank followed her gaze, grinned, and lifted his hand to wave. “You’ll be the talk of the town.”
“You have no idea.”
Chapter Four
The hotel had decked out the ballroom with an orchestra and band leader. Tables sat around a large dance floor where cigarette girls meandered around the guests, peddling chocolates, flowers, and other wares instead of the traditional smokes. An enormous crystal chandelier cast reflective light everywhere. Couples danced, drank, and laughed as big band music played in the background. Never had she seen such attention to detail paid to reenacting a period. The whole setup was impressive. The tickets had to have cost Geordie a fortune.
“I think the Castillo knows how to throw a party.”
“Yeah.” Grace gawked.
Frank grasped her hand, lacing his fingers into hers. Strong and warm, the contact made her stomach flutter. “Come on. I’ve got a surprise.” He looked her in the eyes and winked, pulling her toward a table in the corner near the stage. A large bouquet sat on its surface.
“Flowers,” she said and lifted them up to her nose to sniff. “I love roses.”
“I know. Geo told me you have a big garden in your back yard.”
She smiled, amazed at how much he knew about her, and how little she knew about him. “So, tell me something about you.”
“I’m a great dancer.” He held his hand out.
Grace slid her palm into his and set the bouquet down. “Then by all means, show me.” No sooner had she said it than the drums started pounding.
Frank grinned and spun her onto the dance floor. In. Out. Under his arm and back through. Even in the heels, Grace didn’t feel like she’d slip or misstep. Like he’d said, Frank was a great dancer and had complete control of the swing moves.
“You ready to cut loose?” he shouted over the crowd that cheered them on, clapping along with the song.
Grace nodded and he picked her up and swung her legs to the left and then the right. A roll over the back and she landed on her feet, spinning like a top, her skirt flying around her thighs. Her hips switched side to side, and he drew her in and let the force of the dance pull her out. Spin. Swing. At one point, he lifted her and back-flipped her over his arm. Around and around she went until she was dizzy and laughing so hard she could barely catch her breath.
Minutes later the song ended, and Frank pulled her in close as the music slowed. One hand rested on her waist, the other held her hand. His chest rose and fell against hers, but he didn’t even look tired. He stared down into her eyes. Heat filled his expression, making her heart skip. The floor erupted in applause.
“Wow,” she said. “I guess you weren’t lying.”
“When your mother has a dance studio, you can’t help but pick up a step or two.” He glided her around and pulled her in tighter. “I’m having a great time. I’m glad you said yes.”
“I’m glad I said yes.”
“Then let’s not waste a minute.” Frank grinned. For the next two hours, they danced. When In the Mood started up, he led her to the table and pulled her chair out so she could sit. “I’ll get us some drinks.” And he was gone before she could tell him what she’d like. It didn’t matter, like everything else, he’d probably pick the perfect thing.
Grace collapsed back in her seat, fanning her face with her hand and smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. Never had she thought she could have so much fun on a date. As she went limp like a noodle, a trumpet began to play.
Frank?
Grace snapped to attention and turned toward the stage.
There, standing center stage, his trumpet pointed up with the spotlight stri
king him, was Frank, and the sound coming from his horn, possibly the sexiest thing she’d ever heard. Grace scrambled to her feet and moved toward the stage. He hadn’t told her he was going to play.
Sneak.
The party guests gathered around, crowding her out, creating a wall of clapping and cheering bodies in front of her. God, the man was talented. In that uniform, up on that stage, he looked like a living fantasy. His fingers flew over the keys with precision and pure artistry. Strong hands. The best. Grace’s stomach flipped and tightness settled into her pelvis.
The cut of the olive and khaki uniform only served to accentuate the width of his shoulders, and the way they tapered down to his hips made it seem as though the uniform was made for him. The spotlight shadowed the strong lines of his face and angle of his jaw. Hot. So hot.
Liquid heat soaked her crotch and her clit began to throb. Damn, she needed to get closer, and from all appearances, every other woman in the room wanted to be, too. Grace snorted at the row of females blocking her from her man. And he was her man. She tried to move between a pair of curvy blondes and they tightened the gap, cheering and screaming.
Damn. She’d have to change tactics.
“Feel free to toss your panties up on the stage in appreciation.” His words from the night before echoed through her head. Grace looked left and right. Nobody watched, or for that matter, could see with the room darkened. She reached under her skirt and wiggled the red lace down, stepping out and stooping down to pick them up as she pretended to adjust the buckle on her shoe. She rose slowly and balled them in her fist.
Getting them at his feet would be tricky, but it should get his attention. Half a dozen people blocked a clean shot, but she’d already made up her mind to do it. A little loft, a vertical shot, and they would hit the stage in front of him. The thought made her feel positively wicked.
