Best Foot Forward

by Tamie Dearen

  Olivia said, “Oh Grace, that woman is awful. She’s so ugly on the inside it doesn’t matter how she looks on the outside.”

  “And let’s face it, whatever guy you end up with needs to be prepared for accidents like this. You’re kind of prone to mess-ups,” said Claire.

  “More like catastrophes.” Hannah chuckled.

  “I had plenty of help with this one.” Grace pulled off her boots to place Band-Aids over the red spots on her little toes.

  “Oh! I think I heard someone at the door. He’s here!” exclaimed Olivia. “Hurry up! I’ll go down and have him wait at the foot of the stairs. That way you can make a grand entrance coming down the stairs. You look great, Sis!” She kissed Grace on the cheek before scurrying out.

  Grace stood up and wavered a bit on her platform boots. “These boots are like stilts. I’ll have to hold onto the banister until I get to Brad, or I’ll lose my balance.”

  “Yeah, and you’re already kind of off-balance,” teased Claire. “As demonstrated by that stunt you pulled on Brad several months ago.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll never do anything like that again. In fact, I’ve decided we’re only going to do light kissing. I’m going to be the epitome of self-control, so I’ll never tempt him again.”

  Hannah exchanged a grin with Claire. “I’m thinking, ‘Famous last words,’ but I won’t say it.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Brad wiped his palms on his pants, praying his deodorant would hold up to his frayed nervous system. Why was he so anxious? It’s not like it was his first date with Grace. In fact, he hadn’t been this nervous on his first date with her. She’d thrown him for a loop over the last few months, and he’d lost his confidence with her. He tried to listen to Olivia, but her words flowed over his ears like a babbling brook.

  Then he saw her. Standing at the top of the stairs like a vision. Her short hair only emphasized the size of her eyes, which were huge and round and locked with his. He felt a warm glow in his chest that spread throughout his entire body, simply from looking at her. One hand gripped the banister as she started down the stairs, her eyes dropping down to watch her feet. When she reached the second to last step, she paused, her gaze rising to lock with his once again. He saw her catch her breath and realized he’d been holding his.

  He held out his hand to her, his fingers waiting... longing for her touch. She hesitated, only for a moment. Releasing the banister with her right hand, she switched her clutch to the right, so her left hand was free to grasp his. It felt right. It felt as though her hand belonged with his. Her wide hazel eyes crinkled as she smiled and stepped toward him.

  She fell into his arms. Literally. He laughed as he caught her, easily supporting her weight and lifting her upright. But his chuckles ceased when he saw the pain on her face.

  “What happened? Are you okay?”

  “I turned my ankle.” She took a step. “Ow! I can’t believe it! These stupid boots!”

  She hobbled to a nearby chair and sat down, wincing as she removed the boot. Brad knelt in front of her with Connie and the three sisters ogling over his shoulder. “Let me see.” He pressed on her ankle and foot and manipulated her ankle.

  “Ow! Dang it! This is so stupid. I’ll be fine if I lean on you a little. I just need to walk it out.”

  “No, you’ve sprained it for sure. We’d better not go.”

  He saw tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t want to miss the game. I promise it’s feeling better already.” She attempted to stuff her foot back into the boot.

  “Don’t be silly, Grace. At least you can wear a flat shoe.” He pulled the boot from her grasp and handed it to Olivia.

  “I’ll be right back.” She lunged up the stairs, returning with a pair of flat boots.

  He supervised her as she changed shoes, cataloging the reaction on her face as she attempted to hide her pain. He knew the plan to walk and take the subway would have to be scrapped. After forcing her to swallow some ibuprofen, he rigged an icepack with a Ziploc bag.

  She rejected the ice, standing to move toward the door, putting weight on her foot despite her white-faced strain. He hurried to support her, but she pushed her way out the front door with grim determination.

  “Wait Grace.” He followed quickly, shutting the door behind them.

  “I’m fine. I really want to go.”

  He grinned. “Okay. I got that, already. But I have a plan.”

  “What?”

  He could read the suspicion on her face. Before she could react, he scooped her, squealing, into his arms. She giggled, locking her hands behind his neck. It was all he could do not to pull her against him and kiss her senseless. His heart pounded in his chest, even though he was hardly exerting himself to carry her the half block to the main street.

  He set her feet down and hailed a cab. By the time they arrived at Madison Square Gardens, she was grinning, her sprained ankle forgotten in the excitement. And the grin never left her face throughout the entire two-and-a-half-hour game, in which the Rangers scored the winning goal in the last two minutes. She was on her feet much of the time, and he was almost convinced her injury was quite minor. But when he noticed her limping as they exited, he forced her to sit and allow him to inspect her ankle. He discovered a pronounced swelling and berated himself for agreeing to take her to the game after the injury.

  “I need to take you straight home—this ankle looks bad.”

  Her crushed expression broke his heart. “I don’t want to go home yet. We haven’t even had time to... to talk or anything. Not since... you know... since everything happened... And we haven’t... you know... I missed you and...”

  He wanted to be alone with her, too. But he didn’t want to talk—he wanted to kiss her. He gave in without further protest, attempting to hide a smug expression stemming from her obvious desire for the same thing he wanted.

  “What if we went to the top of the Rock? There won’t be many people up there at this time of night. No, I know... Let’s go to Central Park. Have you ever been on a carriage ride? I know it’s kind of touristy, but since you can’t walk...”

  “I’ve lived here all my life and never taken a carriage ride in Central Park. It sounds fun.”

  He knelt with his back to her. “Climb on—I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”

  Carrying her outside toward the taxi, his nerves were hotwired, firing on all circuits, from the contact of her soft form as she clung to his back. What he really wanted was to get her alone—really alone. He wanted to kiss her lips, her neck, and so much more. But he knew that could never happen. He had to be certain they never had too much privacy, so he didn’t tempt his frazzled willpower.

  *****

  The carriage ride was as romantic as Grace had always imagined. Brad chatted about Ben’s surgery and recovery as his arm slid around the back of the cushion over her shoulder, his hand rubbing lightly on her arm in a seemingly idle fashion. She didn’t notice when he stopped talking. She was only aware of his hand as it slid up her arm and across her shoulder to caress her neck, sending millions of tiny sparks along millions of tiny nerve endings. He leaned in toward her lifting her chin with his fingertips, while continuing his fiery assault on the skin of her neck. Her eyes closed of their own accord, and she held her breath, waiting for the touch of his lips against hers. And then she heard something strange—a wet, plopping sound. A pungent smell accosted her nose.

  “Oh, good grief! That’s awful! Did the horse just...”

  Brad laughed. “Are you sure that wasn’t you, and you’re not just blaming the poor horse?”

  Her punch landed on his rock-hard bicep. “Ow!” she exclaimed, shaking her hand.

  “What do you mean, ‘Ow’? You’re the one who hit me.”

  “But you deserved it. And anyway, your arm hurt my hand.” She flashed him a crooked smile as she rubbed her knuckles.

  He grasped her fingers and lifted the reddened knuckles to his lips. “Let me kiss it and make it feel better.”


  She almost swooned at the combined sight and sensation of his lips as they pressed gently against her hand, causing a warm current to flow up her arm. As if he knew the heat had traveled that direction, he began to move his lips across her hand and wrist, flipping it to kiss a slow sweep up the inside of her forearm, Gomez-style. His lips seared an icy-hot trail on her skin until she squirmed in her seat. By the time he reached her shoulder, her muscles had melted, resulting in her boneless collapse against the carriage seat.

  As her head fell back in surrender to her overwhelmed senses, he accepted the opportunity as an invitation. Her breathing was short and shallow, anticipating, reveling in the feeling of his lips nibbling on her neck. But when he reached the soft hollow under her jaw, she saw bursts of light behind her eyelids, and a moan almost escaped her lips.

  His low chuckle reverberated against her neck. He whispered, his breath hot against her skin. “Shhh! Not so loud.”

  Had her moan been audible? How embarrassing. Her face burned, and she stiffened, opening her eyes to determine if the carriage driver had overheard.

  “I made a noise? Was it really loud?”

  His fingers stroked along the line of her jaw, causing her eyes to flutter closed. “Don’t worry—he’s not paying any attention.” His voice was soothing and hypnotic, as were his fingers. She couldn’t move, even if she’d had the desire. He returned his lips to her skin, back to the moan-making spot on her neck, and she felt goose bumps rising on her leg. Who knew there was a connection between those nerves?

  As he moved his mouth under her chin and over the ridge of her jaw, closer and closer to her lips, she found herself holding her breath until she felt light-headed. Impatient with his teasing, she found the strength to stretch her hands behind his neck and pull his mouth against hers. Still, he held back, warring against her, only affording her the lightest brush of his lips.

  “Brad! Please!” The words slipped out before she realized she’d spoken.

  “Please what?” His eyelids closed halfway, and he flashed an impish grin.

  Her furious glare didn’t seem to faze him. He maintained his resistance, grazing his lips over her mouth, sending lightning bolts through her system with each slight contact. Her heart was thundering in her ears, drowning out the sounds of the city.

  “Please... Please kiss me.”

  “Hmmm... I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” He released her and leaned away, sitting back and crossing his leg, while tapping his finger against the side of his head. She stared at him, dazed and confused.

  “What do you mean? Of course it’s a good idea. You don’t want to kiss me?”

  “Oh, I want to. Believe me, I want to. But I’m not certain I should.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it seems to me every time I kiss you, you end up running away from me.”

  She sputtered, “That’s not true.”

  “Isn’t it?” He crossed his arms.

  Maybe it was true, but she didn’t have to admit it. “So you’re never going to kiss me again?”

  “As much as I hate to do this, I think we need to talk first. I want to be certain we’ve addressed all your concerns up front, because I can’t handle having you leave me again.”

  “But I don’t have any concerns now.”

  In the glow of the lamplight she could see one of his eyebrows shoot up. “Really? If nothing bothers you, then talking about us shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Look, can’t we just kiss and enjoy each other’s company the way we used to? The way we did before any of this ever happened?”

  “No, something has to change. We have to be different than your other relationships or you’ll eventually discard me like you did all the other guys.”

  Her breaths came faster, and she felt her vision narrowing. He wanted to talk about the future. He wanted a commitment, and she wasn’t ready.

  “Grace?” He was peering into her face, his brows knit with concern. His voice sounded far away. “Grace? What’s wrong, baby?”

  “I can’t... I can’t...”

  “Grace!” He held her in his arms, leaning her back across his lap, plying her face with kisses. “Don’t you pass out on me!”

  He planted a forceful kiss on her lips, and the world that had faded came plummeting back. Her eyes opened wide, and her heart thudded in her chest. He deepened the kiss, and shock waves shot throughout her system. She didn’t ever remember feeling this in all the times he’d kissed her before. Her nerve endings were raw. She was painfully aware of every place his body contacted hers, even through her thick sweater. He played her senses like an instrument; his talented mouth made her entire being hum with pleasure.

  She tried to maintain contact as he withdrew his lips. But he ended the kiss and sat up straight with a pained expression. “I shouldn’t have done that. We still need to talk.”

  She attempted to snuggle against his chest. “But I liked it. Why do we have to talk and spoil everything?”

  He responded by propping her back into a sitting position beside him. “I have to know you won’t make another unilateral decision to end our relationship.”

  “But I’m not ready to make a commitment.” Her squeaky voice sounded almost as distressed as she felt inside.

  “I’m not asking for a commitment. All I’m asking is you promise to talk to me.”

  “About what?”

  “About everything. I want to know what you’re thinking. I want to know what you’re worried about. I want to know what you like and dislike. And if you think you’ve discovered a reason we shouldn’t be together, I want you to tell me. Don’t you think that’s fair?”

  She didn’t respond. Her mind was racing as she considered his demand.

  “What are you thinking? What’s making you hesitate?”

  “It’s the what-ifs. What if you ask for more? What if I change my mind? What if you change your mind? What if you meet someone prettier and smarter? What if—”

  “Whoa!” he chuckled. “How do you not have a massive headache? Is there always that much stuff going on in your head? Do you worry all the time?”

  “It’s not funny. Don’t you see all the things that could go wrong? Someone is bound to get hurt.”

  “But I’m willing to take the risk. Anyway, it couldn’t hurt any worse than it did when you broke up with me. I couldn’t sleep. I wasn’t hungry. I was awful to my friends.”

  “You’re right. I was pretty miserable, too. Even my sisters didn’t like me.”

  “And I’m not going to meet someone prettier and smarter.”

  “But Dr. Dickson—”

  “Kara isn’t prettier or smarter than you, Grace. I promise I was never attracted to her.”

  She bit her lips to hide the pleased smile that sprang to her face at his words. Even though she wasn’t really jealous of Kara, she couldn’t help feeling insecure in comparison to the tall, striking doctor. She could tell by the fervor of his answer he meant what he said. Still, she was nervous about the idea of a future commitment. “But I can’t forget you said the M-word, and I’m not ready for that.”

  His moan was so loud that the carriage driver looked back over his shoulder. “Look Grace, I’m sorry. The M-word slipped out of my mouth, but I won’t say it again. In fact, when you decide you’re ready to discuss it, you’ll have to bring it up yourself.”

  “But I’m planning to get my master's in education, and that’ll take a couple of years.”

  “I promise not to push you, but I don’t promise not to tempt you.” One corner of his mouth twitched into a crooked grin, and he lifted her hand, turning it over to kiss her wrist, sending tremors down her spine.

  “But that’s another thing. I can’t control myself with you. I don’t think I can stop you when I need to.” Even as she spoke the words, she made no effort to withdraw her hand from his ministrations.

  “I know.” He moved his lips a bit further up the soft skin of her arm.

  “But I don’t wan
t to go too far. I mean, I want to, but I don’t want to—”

  “I know, but I can stop.” He kissed a little higher up.

  “But I’m the girl—I’m supposed to be the one who puts the brakes on.”

  “Says who?” He lifted his head away, frowning.

  “Everybody knows that’s the girl’s job, and I’ve always done it before.”

  “But that was before you met a man who drove you wild beyond the extent of your willpower.” His smug expression was too much for her.

  “Exactly! And you’re proud of yourself for it. But when we slip and go past the line, I’ll be devastated.”

  “We won’t slip—I’ll be responsible. Not that it’s easy for me, but I can handle it. For one thing, I’ll make sure we don’t have too much privacy. After all, you test my willpower, too.”

  “But how do I know I can trust you?”

  His smile dissolved, and his eyes narrowed. “I would hope I proved myself to you by now.”

  “You’re right, Brad. I’m sorry I said that.”

  His hands gripped her shoulders, pulling her into his arms. “Look, I’m prepared to prove myself to you every day.”

  He rubbed his hands on her back, and she automatically melted in his tender embrace. She wrapped her hands around him, snuggling in his warmth. It felt so right—like she belonged there.

  “Eh-hem!” The carriage driver cleared his throat in a loud voice. “We’re back.”

  Grace blushed, knowing he’d caught them in a hug. How had she managed to forget his presence?

  Brad pulled some money out of his pocket, and handed it to the man, who smiled and tipped his hat. Then he climbed down and turned his back to Grace.

  “Hop on—your chariot awaits.”

  She crawled onto his back, and wrapped her arms around his neck, trying not to choke him. “Hey, where are we going?”

  He carried her with ease up the path back into Central Park. “I’m not ready to go home. We haven’t finished talking yet.”

  “But I don’t want to talk anymore.”

  “I promise to make it worth your while.” His voice carried a lilt of amusement.