Give Me Grace

by Kate McCarthy

  “Yes, and no. It was on a USB, but Morgan isn’t stupid. She’d have more than one copy floating around. Grace took it before she delivered Morgan her own little message.” Travis glanced at me in the rearview mirror and I caught a flash of amusement.

  “She did?”

  “I did,” I called out from the backseat.

  “Yes!” Mac hissed gleefully and the sound echoed through the car. “Did you make her bleed, Grace? Why wasn’t I invited to the smackdown?”

  “For the exact same reason you just called it a smackdown. This is not the WWE,” Casey replied, weighing into the conversation. “As if it isn’t hard enough doing our jobs without worrying about you girls in lockup for breaking and entering, and assault and battery.”

  “She threatened to arrest Grace too? Bitch!” she growled again. The reminder of Morgan’s threat made me hot with anger all over again, so I pressed the button for the window. It came down quickly, emitting subzero air into the car. I quickly put it back up before icicles formed on my eyelashes. “Did you throw Dad’s name about like confetti?”

  “Casey did,” Travis confirmed.

  “Good. Let her know we have people in high places. Make her sweat. I think we should—”

  “Mac! Dammit. There is no we. You’re not involving yourself in this any further. Are we clear?”

  “Christ, Trav!” she yelled and my ears smarted. “Let it go! Yes, I broke in, and yes, I stole the report. And you know what? I’d do it again and if I got arrested, then so be it. I happen to think it was worth doing jail time for. I’d even—”

  “Mac,” Casey interrupted, but she was on a roll.

  “—get a cool prison nickname like Lil’ Em Vicious, and—”

  “Mac!”

  She paused.

  “Thank you,” he told her.

  Another pause, then, “Anything for a guy as hot as you, Casey. Sorry, Grace,” she threw my way. “It’s just a fact.”

  Casey laughed but Travis looked ready to pop a vein.

  “You’re forgiven,” I told her. “I would’ve been right there with you if I hadn’t been strapped to a hospital bed.”

  “Great. Then we’d have both of you working the chain gang,” Travis muttered dryly. “We need to keep you two separated.”

  “Speaking of separation, it’s Mum and Dad’s thirtieth anniversary tonight.”

  “Nice segue, Mac.” Travis told her, shifting across two lanes and into the right turning lane that led us onto Casey’s street. I had to hold on at the quick, zippy manoeuvre.

  “I thought so. So back to my original question. Where are you, asshead? Everyone’s arrived at the back function room of the Florence Bar for the surprise party and the three of you are still a no show. Mum and Dad will be here soon.”

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  “You forgot!” Mac accused in high-pitched surround sound and I flinched. “How could you do that? Your wife organised the whole thing! Did you even give Casey and Grace the invitation?”

  Travis widened his eyes at me in the rearview mirror, a silent plea to lie.

  I cleared my throat, relieved to see the loft up ahead. I’d long mastered the art of rapid dressing. A quick shower to wash off the evil that was Morgan and I could do my makeup in the car. “We’re on our way, Mac,” I told her.

  “Sure you are,” she grouched, not believing a word of it.

  “With everything going on, I’m not sure taking Grace out right now is a good idea,” Casey interjected.

  “Rubbish,” Mac told him. “You have to be there, Casey. Mum and Dad are like your surrogate parents. Besides, the entire Badass Brigade will be at the party, not including the bar’s own security. What could go wrong?”

  Casey groaned, rubbing a hand across a face that was weary. I wasn’t sure Mac should have added the “what could go wrong” part to the end of her speech. Throwing something like that out there always preceded something bad happening.

  “Fine,” he told her after a long hesitation. “But we won’t stay long.”

  “Good. Maybe I should duck back quickly and grab Polly,” I heard her mutter.

  “No!” Travis shouted as he pulled into the loft’s underground car park.

  “Who’s Polly?” I asked.

  “My gun,” she replied. “Polly Pistol.”

  My brows flew up, not just at the part about Mac owning a gun, but because she’d named it. “Nice.”

  “I know, right? Anyway, I have to go, assheads. Your drinks are on me tonight, Grace.”

  She hung up before I could reply.

  Quinn sent a message to let me know the party was black-tie, so with Grace in the bath, I pulled my tux from the wardrobe and began to dress. I was frowning into the mirror, tying the bow, when the loft intercom buzzed. I gave up, letting the tie hang around my neck while I went to answer it.

  I flicked on the security vision, revealing a guy standing there with a huge box. He was dressed casually—jeans, hoodie, and cap—but he was shuffling from foot to foot. My eyes narrowed suspiciously. He was either up to something, impatient, or busting to take a piss.

  I hit the intercom button. “Yeah?”

  The guy cleared his throat. “I have a package for Grace Paterson. She here?”

  Mitsy’s head perked up at the unfamiliar tone flooding the loft, letting out a little woof from his dog bed in the corner of the living room. I raised my brows at the little bastard. “Tough guy, huh?”

  He woofed again, adding a bit of growl to the end of it as though saying, “Tougher than you, asshole.”

  Shaking my head because I was having a conversation with a dog, I hit the intercom button again. “Who’s it from?”

  I watched the guy check the tag then lean close to the intercom speaker on the outside wall. “Says it’s from Mackenzie Valentine?”

  “Give me a minute,” I replied. Palming my phone off the kitchen bench, I called up Mac’s number and dialled.

  She answered after two rings. “Casey.”

  “Mac. Did you order something for Grace? There’s a guy here with a package. Says it from—”

  “I knew you weren’t on your way,” she snapped. “That package was supposed to arrive two hours ago.”

  “What is it?” I asked and returned to the security monitor to eye the big, glossy looking box.

  “It’s a dress for tonight. I figured Grace wouldn’t have had time to shop. There should be matching shoes in there too, okay?”

  I hit the buzzer, saying, “Come on up,” to the delivery guy. I watched him disappear through the downstairs door. Into the phone, I said, “Thanks, Mac.”

  “You wait ‘til you see her in the dress. You can thank me then.” She chuckled and hung up.

  I shook my head, a grin on my face as I opened the door. Mitsy began barking, the sound both savage and ear-splitting, which was quite a feat considering his small size. His claws ticked rapidly on the timber flooring as he raced to my side, his teeth bared in tiny, razor-sharp points.

  “Holy shit,” the delivery guy exclaimed, taking an abrupt step back. “What the hell is that?”

  “It’s a dog, dude,” I replied dryly. Grabbing Mitsy off the floor, I tucked him under my left arm like a football. He was a quivering, snapping bundle of fur, his eyes fixed on the guy while he put the box at his feet and handed over an electronic pad for me to sign. I quickly scrawled my signature, took possession of the box in my other hand, and shut the door with my foot.

  “Good boy, Mitsy,” I praised, deciding his ferocity deserved a treat. Returning him to the floor and the box to the kitchen bench, I opened the pantry cupboard. The shelves were bare. Spying a lone packet of Doritos leftover from Grace’s holiday binge, I opened it and tossed a handful into his doggy bowl before taking one for myself.

  Mitsy crunched loudly just as Grace stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What are you feeding him?”

  I swallowed the chip in my mouth and shifted in front of the pac
ket, blocking it from view. “A doggy treat.”

  “No you’re not. You’re feeding him Doritos.”

  “Why did you ask if you already knew?”

  “Because I wanted you to know I knew exactly what you were doing.”

  My brows flew up, confused. “By asking me what I was feeding him?”

  Grace huffed. “You’re just trying to make Mitsy love you more than me, luring him to the dark side with your bribes.”

  “What, I’m the ‘dark side’ now?” I air-quoted. And didn’t she know the words Mitsy and love in the same sentence was ridiculous? The dog was about as loveable as a cactus.

  With a roll of her eyes, Grace started for the bedroom. Grabbing the box, I followed behind. Her skin was damp and flushed and a cloud of the rich, honey-scented body wash she favoured trailed behind her.

  I checked my watch and my lips curled with anticipation.

  We had time.

  “What’s this?” Grace asked, pausing to stare at the box when I dumped it on the bed. Noting the swirly black writing, she read out, “Collette Dinnigan.” She turned, her face flushing with sudden pleasure. “You bought me a dress?”

  The way she looked at me made me wish I had. I was fully dressed, my jacket on and the tie still dangling around my neck, but she was looking at me like I was naked.

  With a quick flick of my hand, her towel unravelled and pooled at her feet. She sucked in a breath when I sank to the edge of the bed pulling her towards me. It brought her belly to eye level. I gripped her ass in my hands and leaned in, licking along the taut skin with the tip of my tongue

  “Oh,” she breathed, her fingers in my hair. She tugged a little, getting my attention. “Do we have time?”

  “Are you kidding?” I answered, my palms running down the backs of her thighs. The world could have been imploding for all I cared. “Don’t you know how sexy you are? All that fire under your skin gets me hot.” I told her between licks of her skin. “I was so damn proud of you today. You didn’t flinch once. You were strong and fierce and just watching you made my cock hard. So when you ask me if we have time, the answer is always yes.” Her nails scratched through my hair, giving me goose bumps. I looked up at her, my heart thumping. “You’re fast becoming my world, Grace, and that world is a place I never want to leave.”

  “Casey,” Grace breathed and crawled naked onto my lap. My hands gripped her ass when she straddled me. I wanted to fuck her just like this. Leaning back on my elbows, I could thrust upwards and watch my cock disappear inside her. God, that would be hot. I reached for my fly and slid it down, freeing my erection. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

  I could barely think for her words to register. Her tits were in my face and my dick was hard enough to pound nails. I reached between us and massaged her clit. “Uh huh.”

  I reached across and snagged a condom off the bedside table.

  “Casey, I’m serious.”

  I rolled the condom down quickly and looked up, my eyes dazed with lust. “What?”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Later.”

  Grace shifted upwards and I took advantage, my cock sliding home. Her head fell back as I drew back and rammed upwards. She moaned, squeezing me. “It’s important,” she managed to get out.

  The worry in her voice snagged my attention, but my brain struggled to reengage. “Whatever’s going on in that pretty head of yours, as long as we have each other, it’ll work out, okay?”

  We were late.

  I walked into the party of over a hundred people holding Grace’s hand. Surrounding chatter died off and those closest to us blinked and stared. I couldn’t blame them. Before we left, Grace pinned her hair at the nape of her neck in a messy knot, put something on her skin that made it shimmer under the lights, and slid into a short, gold dress with thin straps. It was covered in gems that reflected the light and came down in a V on her chest. My hand literally shook when I’d slid the back zipper closed, my fingers deliberately brushing the bare skin of her back.

  I glanced at Grace, my eyes crinkling in a grin. “I’m so sexy in this tux everyone can’t take their eyes off me. Hope that doesn’t bother you.”

  Her glossy, pink lips curved in an answering grin. “As long as it doesn’t bother you they’re only staring because your cock is still hanging out of your pants.”

  “What the …” I glanced down.

  Grace threw back her head, her laugh loud and throaty. Squeezing her hand, I tugged her towards the bar. “Come on, chuckles. Let’s get you a glass of champagne before you do some damage with those terrible jokes of yours.”

  Turning to face the crowd after placing an order for champagne and whiskey with the bartender, Vince, I caught Mac heading our way. The red strapless number that clung to her body was no doubt giving her brothers a collective heart attack. As far as they were concerned Mac was still a virgin. A quick scan of the room showed two pairs of eyes tracking her. One set belonged to her eldest brother, Mitch, and they were busy telling the room to back the fuck off. The other belonged to Jake, and what his were busy saying had me chuckling.

  I grinned at Mac when she reached us.

  She paused to stare.

  My brow furrowed. “You okay?”

  She cleared her throat. “Fine.”

  Jake’s gaze shifted from Mac to me and he scowled. I leaned into Mac’s side experimentally, keeping watch on him from the corner of my eye. Placing a hand on the small of her back, I asked her if she needed a drink. His hands fisted and he started our way.

  “Thanks, Casey,” Mac replied.

  Laughing silently, I removed my hand and asked Vince for another champagne.

  “Casey,” Jake muttered as I handed Grace and Mac their drinks.

  “Jake,” I replied with a nod and picked up my whiskey, taking a sip while the girls talked.

  “First Evie, then Grace, and now Mac. You working your way through all the women one by one?”

  His reference to Evie happened to be a kiss that was a long time ago. It was a weak moment at a time when we both needed it, but I knew it wasn’t Evie or Grace he was caring about right now. “You mean all the women,” I asked and arched a brow, “or just Mac?”

  “I mean just Mac,” he snapped.

  “Mate.” I slapped him on the back, shaking my head in sympathy. “Mitch, Travis, Jared, and Steve? A guy would need balls bigger than Mount Everest to take those four on. I wouldn’t want to be you for all the tea in China. Good luck,” I added and tossed back the contents of my whiskey.

  On that note, I left my glass on the bar and guided Grace towards the centre of the room where Steve and Jenna held court. After offering our congratulations, I got caught chatting with Steve about China’s brute coerciveness in disputing Asian waters and the potential risk of war with Vietnam.

  He frowned at me, rubbing his jaw as he immersed himself in the subject. “The question is, how far is China willing to go?”

  “They’ll go as far as they can before the U.S. intervenes,” I answered. “And the U.S. won’t do anything until Obama identifies there’s a national risk.”

  “Jesus, Dad.” Travis shoved another whiskey in my hand as he joined our circle. “Relax. It’s a party.”

  Steve ignored Travis and focused on Grace. “What do you think, Grace?”

  “What do I think?” She puffed out her cheeks. “I think you need another drink.” He laughed, and then paused when she added, “I also think China’s assertiveness is driving U.S. allies, including Australia, closer together and now is the time to hedge our position. We need to work for the best outcome and prepare for the worst. It’s a jungle out there. Sir,” she added.

  “That’s interesting, Grace,” he muttered, taking hold of her elbow as he leaned closer to talk. “Australia is in deep economic engagement with China. Now is the time to strengthen—”

  “Dad,” Travis interrupted.

  “—relations with our allies, and the key to hedging—”

&n
bsp; “Dad! Jesus.”

  Steve paused, looking at his son. “What?”

  “Let the hostages go,” he ordered, jerking his chin our way. Grace sagged with obvious relief as I led her away from the conversation.

  I laughed. “Congratulations, Slim. Keeping up with Steve and his world news obsession makes me sweat.”

  “Same,” she muttered as she finished off the last of her champagne. “That’s why I googled.”

  My lips twitched. “You googled?”

  “Mmm hmm. In the car on the way here. Current world news headlines.”

  “I’m impressed,” I told her, taking the empty glass from her hand and placing it on the nearby table.

  “Stick around, fledging grasshopper…” she winked “…and I’ll show you the rest of my moves.”

  An hour later I was ready to leave. We’d made a decent appearance. It had been a hell of a day, starting off with the physiotherapist for Grace, and ending with the showdown at Morgan’s house. I needed Grace. I needed a bed. I needed Grace in a bed. Knowing exactly where she stood in the crowd, talking with Cooper, Frog, and Henry, I met her eyes and indicated one last drink before we left.

  She nodded and I headed towards the bar.

  “Hang on,” Vince told me. “The whiskey’s run dry. I just need to run to the back room.”

  “Don’t go to any trouble, mate,” I told him, knowing he was busy. “I’ll just head to the main bar.”

  I left via an exit I knew led inside the main section of the venue. Opening the door, I stepped into bone-thumping music and a crush of bodies. Winding my way through the writhing masses by the dance floor, I made it past the line of booths along the wall and put in a drink order at the bar.

  “Are you following me now?” came a voice from beside me.

  My body tensed and I glanced sideways. “What the fuck are you doing here, Morgan?”

  She leaned casually against the bar, as though enjoying herself. A beer sat in her right hand and a smirk lined her lips. There were not enough mistakes in the world that could match up to the one I made by fucking her. Now the memory of her sucking my cock made me want a shower.