The scent of coffee and the inaudible rumble of the radio newsreader led her straight to the kitchen. Although finding her way around his home wasn’t difficult. It was a replica of hers because the same builder had constructed both houses. Cullen took her mug, poured her a refill, and handed her a glass of water and two painkillers. A few minutes later, he placed a plate of toast and honey in front of her.
“Eat at least one piece for me,” he ordered. “It will settle your stomach.”
“Thanks.” Grace studied her list—the one she now recalled writing at the pub before she’d drunk enough to sink a battleship. Or at least it felt that way. Now that she’d had a shower and drunk coffee, her headache had lightened to a dull throb. She inhaled, the scent of toast, butter, and sweet honey enticing her to try a piece.
“Good girl,” Cullen murmured.
She stopped with the toast halfway to her mouth. Honey dribbled over the edge of the bread. A lightbulb moment. Cullen encouraged her while, more recently, Jeff would’ve made a comment about her ample backside and cutting back on calories for her health. She bit into the toast and savored the crunch of the bread and nature’s sweetness. Delicious. She ate the rest of the piece before she wiped the honey off the counter and licked her finger.
“Grace.” Cullen’s husky voice jerked her gaze in his direction.
“Yes?”
“Don’t let that bastard get to you. You are a sexy, vibrant woman. Don’t let his shortfalls ricochet back at you.”
“Um, okay.” Grace didn’t understand the gleam in Cullen’s eyes. No, not quite true. It resembled desire, but she was misinterpreting the situation. Obviously. Cullen didn’t think of her in that way. They were friends. Nothing more.
She mentally shook herself and returned to her list. Time to get this show on the road. The phone calls became easier as the morning advanced. She didn’t give full details, despite pointed questions and rampant curiosity. Instead, she ran with the highlights: the wedding was off, and she needed to cancel. What costs did she still have to pay?
In most cases, the answer was the full price, but she’d expected this reply. Luckily, she’d set aside money, and Jeff hadn’t got his grubby hands on that account. To think she’d believed him when he’d told her he’d contribute a larger portion of the apartment deposit if she paid the wedding costs. At least she hadn’t accepted money from her parents. That would’ve made the situation so much worse.
“Thank you,” she said to the marriage celebrant. “My apologies for the inconvenience. I’ll pay your account this morning.”
“I’m sorry,” Cullen said once she’d hung up.
“Not your fault. At least most people have been understanding.”
“It helped that you’re paying them,” Cullen stated. “That bastard shouldn’t get away with this.”
“He has done nothing illegal,” Grace said. “Immoral, yes, but nothing against the law. I’m lucky I caught him before the wedding. If I hadn’t discovered him with Julia, I would’ve gone through with the marriage.”
A vehicle pulled up outside her house, and Cullen stood to see what was happening.
“He’s going out with a friend. Some guy,” Cullen said.
“At least he’s not taking my car, which is what he normally does.” Probably out of petrol. A bit of a bugbear with Grace because Jeff seldom filled up with gas after he’d borrowed her car.
“Right.” Cullen cleared the table. “Let’s get those locks changed before he returns.”
Grace stared at the empty plate in front of her, surprised she’d eaten all the toast. Cullen had been right. The nauseous sensation in her stomach had subsided after food and coffee.
“Have you finished your phone calls?”
“One more,” Grace said, wrinkling her nose. “The honeymoon.”
“You can call them on the way to the hardware store.”
Cullen guided her from his house and opened the door to his garage. His glossy black SUV sat there, ready for his use. He opened the passenger door and lifted her into the seat before she could do it herself. Breathless, she fastened the seatbelt.
“Why are you so handsy lately?” She dialed the travel agent.
“You’re a beautiful woman. I like you,” Cullen said as he backed from the garage.
“I don’t know what to make of that. Ah, Karen. Hello.” Grace told her story for what felt like the nth time.
“Aw, Grace. I’m so sorry to hear that,” Karen said. “The package and the airfares you brought aren’t refundable. Remember? I did tell you. You’ll have to use them or lose your money, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, yes.” Grace closed her eyes, suddenly wanting to cry again. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Do you want me to cancel?”
“No, not at the moment. Thanks,” Grace said and ended the call.
Cullen pulled into the car park at the local hardware store. “Something wrong?”
“I can’t cancel the honeymoon.”
“Where were you going?”
“Stewart Island. I’ve always wanted to visit. Jeff didn’t seem to mind where we went, so I booked a week. The lodge room I reserved is expensive, but I figured it was a once-in-a-lifetime trip worth the extra expense. None of the holiday is refundable. Karen pointed it out when I booked, but I didn’t care because I didn’t foresee any problems. I booked the package, anyway.”
“You should still go,” Cullen said. “Especially if it’s your dream destination.”
Grace shrugged and climbed out of the vehicle. “I’ll worry about that later. Let’s buy the locks and get them changed. Crap, I don’t even know which ones I need.”
Cullen joined her on the walk to the store entrance. “Never fear, cupcake. I know the right ones.” He urged her in front of him and directed her to the correct aisle.
The lock price had her cringing, but she sucked it up and presented her credit card. Soon, they were driving back to her place.
She’d wondered if Jeff might return before them, but all was quiet when they walked into her house.
“I’ll start work,” Cullen said.
“Thanks. What a jerk! The place was spotless when I stormed out yesterday afternoon. All his gear is here.” She stared at his clothes—a T-shirt, a pair of cartoon boxer shorts, and a shirt draped over the back of her couch. Fury sparked life in her, and she stomped to the kitchen for rubber gloves. She wasn’t putting up with Jeff’s crap. If he wouldn’t leave, she’d make it easy for him and stack his possessions out on the curb. It was too bad if something happened before he arrived to collect them.
5
WEDDING FALLOUT
Cullen removed the old lock and had to jog to his shed to collect his toolbox. On his return, he met Grace at the door, her hands full of bulging plastic bags. She lifted her chin and stalked past to dump her load at the curb. After wiping her hands on the seat of her shorts, she stomped back inside, returning a few minutes later with another armful of stuff.
“Is that the jerk’s?” he asked.
“Yep, I don’t see why I need to store his possessions.”
Cullen stifled a grin. Several strands of her hair had come loose from her ponytail, and her cheeks were rosy with temper. This close to her, he caught a hint of citrus—either shampoo or body lotion she must’ve had with her in her suitcase. It reminded him of his grandparents’ orange grove. Happier, more innocent times. Her indignant huff drew him from the memory. Today, Grace wore a tight pale blue shirt that showcased her curves beautifully and a pair of black arse-hugging shorts that displayed her pale legs. On her hands, she wore bright pink rubber gloves. Everything about her drew him—her natural beauty, her grumpy expression, her body. Definitely, her curvy body, but she wasn’t ready to hear him yet.
He needed to bide his time.
“Fair enough,” he said, standing aside for her to storm past him again.
He finished the second lock at the rear of the house and checked the window security before searchin
g for Grace. He found her in her bedroom. She had her back to him and was grunting while trying to manhandle the queen-size mattress off her bed.
“What are you doing?”
Grace let out a shriek and dropped the mattress. She whirled, tear tracks marking her cheeks. The knowledge of her crying struck him in the gut. He hated seeing her pain, although he couldn’t be sorry she’d cut the jerk loose.
“I can’t sleep on this mattress. I refuse. I’m putting it at the curb with Jeff’s things. He can take it with him. I’ve already had to throw away my favorite set of Egyptian cotton sheets. They’re ruined.”
Cullen studied the greasy-looking stain. It bore a red tinge, but it wasn’t blood. “What is that?”
“Remember, I told you I grabbed the closest weapons to hand? My ketchup bottle and UHT spray cream. It seeped through the sheets to the mattress. Jeff didn’t even bother to strip the bed. He must’ve slept on the couch.”
“I can take it out for you,” Cullen said. “You grab the rubbish bags with the linen and any of his other belongings.”
“Thanks,” Grace said and hustled around the room, snatching up items and stuffing them into the rubbish bags. She hauled one outside and strode back to get the other while he maneuvered the mattress down the stairs. She’d made two more trips by the time he dragged the mattress to the end of the driveway and dumped it next to the pile of bags and trash sacks.
Each time a car drove past, it slowed, and Cullen would’ve bet the neighbors hovered at their windows, getting an eyeful of entertainment. On his return, he found Grace still in the bedroom, busily clearing drawers.
“How many clothes does Dickhead need?”
“More than me,” Grace said, not stopping. “He said his job means he has to dress smartly.”
“Did you tell me what he does for a job?”
“Accountant. He has big clients in the city, so he wanted us to buy an apartment there. He goes on a lot of business trips, both in New Zealand and Australia. Sometimes, he flies to Thailand, but mostly, Australia.”
“You never went with him?”
Grace shook her head. “Whenever he asked me, I had work.” She pulled three figurines from a cupboard and placed them on a side table.
“There were four. I wonder where the fourth one is. Ah, it’s tucked under a pile of books.”
“What are they?”
“Jeff bought them on one of his overseas trips. They amused him. He had them on display for a while. They’re a play on hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil, except they look like gnomes instead of the usual monkeys. The fourth gnome had its finger raised in a royal salute. Jeff decided they were cute. I think they’re a bit creepy.” She picked one up and studied it closely. “You know, I might keep this one as a reminder not to believe everything a man says.”
Cullen shrugged, once again suppressing his burst of humor. He enjoyed this feisty version of Grace. “If that makes you happy. Anything else you need shifting?”
“No, I’ll be fine. This is the last of Jeff’s gear.”
“What are you doing about the Stewart Island trip?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’ll decide today,” Grace said.
“Call if you need anything.” Cullen dug into his pocket and pulled out two sets of shiny silver keys. “These are your new keys.”
“You keep one and leave the other for me.”
Cullen nodded. “Make sure you keep the doors locked in case Jeff returns.”
“I will.”
They paused when a car halted outside.
Cullen stalked to the window. “People are helping themselves to the idiot’s stuff.”
Grace sniffed. “Tell someone who cares.” She returned to her drawer rummaging.
Cullen wanted to pump his fist and cheer. He didn’t. Instead, he said, “Have dinner with me tonight?”
Her hands stilled, and she glanced at him. “Dinner?”
“Yeah, we both have to eat. We might as well do it together.”
She sat back on her heels. “You know, there’s an Italian place close to here. It’s new, and I’ve wanted to try it for ages.”
“We’ll go there then. I love Italian food.”
“It’s popular. We’ll have to book.”
“No prob. What’s the name of the place? I’ll take care of it.”
“Mario’s,” Grace said. “It’s on Taka Street.”
“If we can’t get a booking, do you want to go to the Indian restaurant?”
“I haven’t been there for ages. Jeff didn’t like spicy food.”
Prick. There seemed to be dozens of things Jeff hadn’t liked or wanted to do with Grace. Cullen didn’t voice his thoughts. He merely raised a hand in farewell and left.
After texting Grace with the details, he booked a table for seven o’clock and spent the rest of the afternoon prepping his lounge for painting.
While he dragged furniture to another room and took down pictures, Grace filled his mind. A dinner date with her was the first step, but he needed to move fast to persuade her to accept him before he had to return to his unit.
If he wanted to win Grace, he had to act now.
His mind wandered as he started stripping the old floral paper from the walls. What would Grace do about the honeymoon? She should go on her trip, but her going alone wasn’t ideal.
A bolt of lightning hit without warning.
Grace would’ve booked for two. Was there any reason Cullen couldn’t take Scumbag’s place? The trip would mean an internal flight—to Invercargill, probably. The airline never asked for identification during an internal flight, and the accommodation wouldn’t care. They’d received their money. Cullen pondered every angle and couldn’t see a downside.
He grinned, liking the idea of stepping into the dick’s shoes.
A trip with Grace would allow him to show her how great they could be together, while the jerk-idiot who’d done the dirty on Grace couldn’t get to her and persuade her this was all a colossal mistake. Not that Cullen thought Grace would give the cheater another chance.
Even better, the change in scenery might help Cullen too. Last night, he’d slept well, thanks to having Grace at his side. No nightmares. A significant side benefit.
At six, Cullen stopped work to have a shower. He tamed his unruly beard before dressing in black trousers and a cotton shirt. Cullen was glad he had taken the trouble when he collected Grace. She wore a navy-blue sundress covered with bright yellow sunflowers. Her hair was loose, but she’d pulled a few strands back from her face with a clip.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. You trimmed your beard this morning. I forgot to mention that I like it.”
“Good to hear,” he said. Her startled expression told him the tool hadn’t been big on compliments. Moron. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes.” She locked the door without his prompting, and that made him happy. The last thing he wished for was that idiot pushing his way back into Grace’s life. After helping her into the passenger side of his vehicle, he jumped in and backed out of the driveway.
“Did the loser collect his gear?”
“No, but a few of the locals have helped themselves. Word must’ve spread because I spotted two guys arguing over one of Jeff’s leather jackets. It was his favorite.” She winged a sly glance in Cullen’s direction. “I’m not positive it’ll be in one piece after the tugging match they were having.”
Cullen chuckled as he pulled into traffic. “At least you’re rid of the asshole now.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t stop the sense of betrayal. I’m focusing on the glass-half-full approach. Luckily, I discovered he’s a cheater before we tied the knot and our lives became even more entwined.”
Cullen wanted to cheer, but he restrained himself with a nod. “Do you want to know where we’re having dinner?”
“I’m hoping you booked at the Italian place because I’m curious about the menu, but if it’s Indian, I’ll enjoy that too. Nav likes to t
ry out new dishes on me.”
Cullen merely nodded again but was glad he’d made reservations at the Italian restaurant for dinner. His hands tightened briefly on the steering wheel, his thoughts rueful. Nav loved his wife. Cullen’s jealousy wasn’t logical.
Five minutes later, Cullen pulled up in the tiny car park behind the Italian restaurant. He laughed when Grace rubbed her hands together, a devilish grin curling her lips.
“I’ll pry any secrets out of the chef in no time,” she said.
His risotto and Florentine T-bone steak were better than he’d imagined, and he could tell the tomato bruschetta, the spaghetti and pesto, and her veal main impressed Grace too. The restaurant was busy with no lull in customers, which meant Grace didn’t get her chance to quiz the chef.
“Would you like dessert?”
The smile she’d worn for most of the meal slid away. Her gaze dropped to the menu, and she pushed it away. “No, I don’t need anything else.”
Cullen studied her expression while concealing his strident and pissed thoughts. “I’m having dessert.” He scrutinized the menu and picked the taster plate and a chocolate brownie with raspberry coulee because he remembered she adored chocolate of any type. He informed the server of his selection. “Would you like coffee too?”
“Yes, please. Black,” she said.
A growl escaped Cullen before he could force it back. The bastard had done a job on Grace and hadn’t deserved her. She was a beautiful, sexy, and smart woman who warranted happiness.
He was the man to give her contentment, to help her rekindle her joy, her sparkle.
While they waited for the dessert and coffee, Cullen made his first push. His home renovations could wait. Grace couldn’t.
“Have you decided what you’re doing about your honeymoon holiday?” Cullen held his breath while he waited for her reply.
She frowned as she met his gaze. “It’s my dream trip.” Her chin rose, and her mouth set in determination. “I don’t see why I should let Jeff ruin this for me.”
“Good girl,” Cullen said, pride filling him.
“The only thing is I’m not keen on going by myself.”
Protecting the Bride Page 5
