Saving Grace

by Stacey Espino

  “You gonna sign those papers?” he asked, just above a whisper. He grazed the side of her face as he ran gentle fingers along her hairline.

  “Tomorrow.”

  “You sure?”

  “Without a doubt,” she said boldly, never more certain of anything in her life, especially now.

  “So what did you do before you were married?”

  “I managed my dad’s golf course. It was demanding, but I liked keeping busy, enjoyed the challenge.”

  Scot nodded thoughtfully. “That makes me think. My dad could sure use a manager. Just saying…”

  She didn’t reply. Her mind on overload, she had too much to think about, and she wasn’t even sure where she would land when the dust settled. One thing she did know. She wanted more from Scot than this one night. He held no comparison to Trevor or Conner. Even at the time, she knew they only wanted her for sex, and she felt the same about them. Not once did feelings beyond a mutual attraction or affection enter her heart. Things had to be different with Scot. She wanted his mind even more than his body. She wanted the whole package and prayed that he felt the same way about her, or she’d be lost.

  “Scot?”

  “Uh-huh?”

  “I’m so confused. Sometimes, I just want to go to sleep and never wake up. You know what I mean?”

  “It will only getter better from here. Promise.”

  She liked the sound of that and was broken enough to believe it, needed to believe it.

  “You know I’m older than you, right?” It wasn’t really a question, more a verification for her. She didn’t want anything creeping up later to tarnish anything developing between them. Somehow, she knew a trigger was waiting to blow this fantasy up in her face.

  “You’re thirty-five. That’s not old, Grace. Besides, you’re gorgeous. No one would even guess you were older than me.”

  “Cute.”

  “Seriously. It’s just a number.”

  Her earlier chill began to diminish, and Scot’s body heat was soothing.

  “I’m messed up, Scot. You have everything going for you.”

  He rummaged his way out of their little nest and stood in front of her.

  “Why you trying to convince me to stay away? Why am I not allowed to have feelings for you?” He pulled her up to stand with him. “Because I do have feelings for you and not just because of tonight.”

  “But it’s only been a couple weeks, not even.”

  “So what? How many songs, books, and movies are based on love? Isn’t it the most dominant emotion in life? Don’t you believe that someone, sometime, felt the same way in reality? I know I do. Once I met you.”

  “Scot,” she pleaded, shaking her head. This was exactly what she craved, but it also scared her to death. Such raw emotion and professions of love…so soon. She knew young men were capable of falling in love, hard. This needed to be more than infatuation. It had to be real. Yes, she wanted to believe, but her painful history kept telling her to be safe and to keep up her guards. She had once believed Ken loved her, and look how that turned out.

  He took her face and kissed her gently. Individual kisses with promises attached. Out of nowhere, tears welled up in her eyes. She didn’t deserve his love or his kindness but wanted it desperately.

  He scooped her up and carried her easily to his twin bed and laid her down as if she might break. Standing over her, no humor, no words, only intensity coming from his eyes, he gazed down at her.

  She wiped at her eyes, sniffling. First, Scot’s shirt came off, making her pant immediately, then her pants. He continued to undress her with care, not like the savage, sex-starved stud like in the parking lot. Once she lay in the nude, he kicked off his joggers and lowered himself over her like the gentle descent of a fresh sheet.

  The first kiss met her belly button, which made her giggle and squirm. But, as the kisses trailed higher, Scot was anything but playful. As he nuzzled her breast, she urged him to take her into his mouth by arching up. A moan escaped her lips when his hot mouth opened over the taut peak. Every move he made was calculated, sensual, unrushed. He savored her like a fine wine, breathing her in, absorbing her into his soul. She felt what he tried to do. He was making love to her, attempting to prove his feelings in the best way he knew. This would be her first time. Everything before this moment had been sex. Not this.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

  His entire body made contact with hers. His breathing became labored after he met her lips. He tasted her, moved his head from side to side, kissing deeper.

  Bracing himself on his elbows, he brushed back her hair. Her breath caught. She saw it in his eyes. The adoration. The truth. Could it actually be true? Could this be the man she had sought but never found?

  “You scare me, Scot.”

  As he searched her watery eyes, she smoothed her hands up and down his sides and loved how his supple skin, his firm muscles over a his broad frame felt.

  “Don’t push me away.”

  His head dropped to the side of her neck, his breath hot as he positioned himself between her legs. She salivated, biting her lip in anticipation. His mouth clamped over her neck, sucking an erotic pulse as he pressed the tip of his penis against her folds. Unlike her skin, her pussy waited for him, hot and wet.

  Scot entered her slowly, driving her wild, making her ache and writhe beneath him. It felt so right once the full length of his cock embedded inside her. Closeness. Completeness. He dug his arms under her back and brought her right against his chest as he began thrusting, smooth and powerful, inside her. She kissed his face, ran her hands through his waves of hair, and kneaded his shoulders.

  “I’ll never hurt you,” he muttered.

  He prolonged his release as well as hers. Tonight meant everything. They both needed to remember it.

  She began to heat up, which staved off the chill from the night, and Scot’s skin grew slick with sweat with each passing minute. His cock filled her, and he moved with authority, skills made for her pleasure. He held nothing back and welcomed her kisses, her touch. This man wanted all of her, not just her body, and the power of the fact both scared and fascinated her.

  When the time came, he pleased her in ways no other man could. Every rhythmic motion of his hips made her call out his name and gasp until that perfect moment when light flashed behind her closed eyes and the tension released from her.

  Scot rolled next to her in the confined space and pulled her over his arm to tuck her against his side. They wiggled under the blankets and without a word spent the night sleeping in each other’s arms.

  Chapter Seventeen

  They pulled into the driveway the next morning, the entire ranch teeming with life. Cowboys dotted the land, herding cattle, loading trucks, unloading hay. They cursed and whistled, shouted and rode by on horseback, made driving a daunting task. Dust billowed and the earth trembled as hundreds of hooves rushed through one gate to the next.

  Before she stepped out of the car, Scot was at her side helping her out. He held her hand as they walked up the front path to the house. Such a simple act, one more intimate than sex itself. Every eye in the vicinity became curious. Scot openly pronounced them as a couple, and appeared proud of the fact. With his shoulders back and head held high, she saw his satisfaction. Her heart swelled because she had felt worthless her entire marriage with Ken. He was a black hole of negativity.

  Scot didn’t need to say a word. Every act and gesture told her she was special in his eyes.

  Inside, Scot called for his dad. Grace wandered around the room, running her fingers along the fireplace mantel where Mrs. Wagner’s picture stared back at her.

  “All alone today? Where’re all your buckle bunnies hiding?” asked Jenna from the kitchen.

  An uncomfortable silence followed. Jenna couldn’t see her from where she stood, but Grace saw Scot and how red his face became.

  “Have you seen my dad?”

  “He’s out in the barn. You staying for lunch?”<
br />
  “No. Just popping in.”

  Scot approached the fireplace, his expression cautious. What could she say? She wasn’t mad. No, she didn’t know him well. Although she felt closer to him than anyone in her life, in essence he was a stranger. He could be the biggest playboy in the state, but it didn’t matter. She’d had her naughty fun since arriving and wouldn’t judge him for his past, as long as it was the past. By the way he had screwed her in the parking lot, he was no angel. The man had skills.

  Jenna followed him, noticing Grace. “Well, there you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I knocked on your door for breakfast, but you were already gone.”

  No hiding. “I slept at Scot’s place last night.”

  Another awkward silence. Scot and Jenna exchanged a painful glance.

  “Oh. Are you two…?”

  Grace would have answered her, but Scot cut in before she could take in a breath. In a commanding, assured tone, he replied, “Yes, Grace is my girlfriend. We should have told you.”

  “Oh.”

  Jenna bit her lip nervously as she met Grace’s eyes. She knew that Jenna worried about the near-kissing incident the other day, but there was no need. Nothing happened, and she had no clue about their relationship. Shit, at that point neither did Grace. The “girlfriend” announcement had come as much of a shock to her as it did to Jenna.

  “Come on. My dad’s in the barn.”

  He took Grace’s hand and led her out the kitchen doors. Jenna still stood frozen in place, most likely in shock at the unlikely coupling.

  Once clear of the house, Grace teased Scot, pushed him in the chest playfully. “So, how many buckle bunnies are we talking about here?”

  “Cut it out. She was just fooling around.”

  “Sure, Scot. But, I thought you had to be a rodeo stud to have a following.”

  “Well, I kind of was.” He smirked, a boyish smile with a mix of pride and shyness.

  “You? You were in the rodeo…like your dad?”

  “I might not like the ranch life, but I was raised here. I know my way around a horse and steer.”

  This news surprised her. She smiled, delving into a new side of Scot she had no idea existed. They really had a lot to learn about each other.

  “Do you like to ride?”

  “Sure. I don’t do the rodeo circuit anymore, but I enjoy riding.”

  “Wanna ride with me?” She swiveled side to side, her hands behind her back. Flirting with her boyfriend felt good.

  His eyes lifted toward the sky. The sun strong, the cloud cover broken across the blue horizon. “Fields will be soft from last night’s rainfall. Might be messy.”

  “I’m not afraid of getting a little dirty.”

  He pulled her tiny waist toward him, rammed her against the hard bulge, and was bending down for a kiss when a voice forced him to turn around.

  “Well, well, look who it is.”

  Trevor coiled a length of rope around his hand and elbow as he sauntered toward them from the barn. Grace’s heart picked up, not sure what Trevor would pull in front of Scot. This could make or break their relationship.

  “What do you want, Trevor?” asked Scot blandly.

  A few more cowboys took up Trevor’s flanks, ones she only recognized in passing.

  “Never thought I’d see Scotty trying to romance a woman. Didn’t think you had it in you. Though she might be disappointed when she craves a real man, not a little boy.”

  Grace stepped forward. “I’d hardly call him little, Trev. The guy’s six-two and bigger than you. What’s your problem anyway?”

  “No problem.” He held up his free arm in innocence. “When you wise up, come find me, sweetheart. I know what you like and would be more than happy to give it to you.”

  Shit.

  Grace closed her eyes and mentally shook her head. It only took those few seconds for Scot to blur into motion. She jumped back in shock as Scot threw a vicious punch right into Trevor’s jaw. In an instant, they fell to the ground, tussling, throwing punches, and wrestling with no holding back. The moist earth covered them like a second, darker skin. The crowd of cowboys grew. They cheered and hooted, some clapped their hands, and others encouraged more violence. Grace felt impotent. No way could she physically separate them. They’d tear her apart without realizing. Both men were in peak shape, and years of hatred were unleashed as they went at each other brutally.

  She screamed for them to stop, using both their names in hope that one of them would listen. She knew them. Scot wasn’t a fighter, but a gentleman to the death like his father. He defended her honor, their intimate relationship, and the animosity between him and Trevor didn’t help.

  Trevor carried a ton of baggage. Jealousy for Scot, abandonment and insecurity issues from his childhood, which he projected onto Scot for having everything he always wanted. Even though her relationship with him was sexual and casual, witnessing her with Scot would be enough to put Trevor over the edge. As foreman and Mr. Wagner’s right-hand man, he thrived on control, whether on the ranch or during their past sexcapades.

  “That’s quite enough,” Mr. Wagner boomed in his commanding voice. Without being told, the group of cowboys silenced and pulled the guys apart, breathless and bloodthirsty. Grace ran to Scot, his white T-shirt torn and muddy, revealing his chiseled, heaving abs. She touched his face with gentle fingers. His lip was bloodied, his cheek and jaw swollen and cut. She expected him to push her away, but he hooked an arm behind her waist and held her beside him.

  Trevor spat blood on the ground with disgust while giving Scot a daggered stare.

  “What’s the meaning of all this?” asked Mr. Wagner.

  Grace didn’t have to guess that he knew exactly why the fight had started.

  Two strong men, already declared enemies, fighting over a woman. It didn’t make her feel warm and tingly, proud, or desired. It made her sad. She loved Scot and truly cared for Trevor.

  Trevor had brought her out of her shell and taught her to open her wings and make the right choices for herself, always kind and considerate of her physically and emotionally. But she wanted a life with Scot, more than random encounters. It sucked being caught in the middle of the fight.

  Between heavy breaths, Scot answered, “Tell him to stay away from Grace.”

  “You think you can own her? I don’t see a ring on her finger,” snapped Trevor.

  “Not yet.”

  “Whoa, hold on, boys. I’m sick and tired of you two being at each other’s throats. Scot, you’re my son, and Trevor, I’ve considered you a son for over ten years now. Why can’t the two of you get along?” He ran his hands through his hair. “You’re making me sad. Both of you.”

  “He’s the one that started talking shit,” said Scot.

  “I’ll tell you one thing I’ve learned over the years. Nothing gets men more passionate or worked up than a beautiful woman. What we should be doing is considering Grace’s feelings. Isn’t that the proper way to handle this? I thought I raised gentlemen on this ranch.”

  Both men remained silent, not arguing his point.

  “Then let her choose,” said Trevor.

  Everyone turned to Grace, putting her on the spot. The sudden rush of nervous heat made her perspire and get dry in the mouth.

  “Choose? Look, I didn’t come here to find a new husband. None of this was my choice, but things happened, yes. Trevor, I told you from day one that I didn’t love you, and even you agreed. I never tried to deceive you. I care about you, Trev. You’ve only ever been good to me. We’ve had our fun, but you couldn’t expect it to carry on forever.” She turned to Scot. “I never expected to fall in love. Not here, not at my age, and certainly not so fast, but I did. With you. There is no choice when your heart chooses for you.”

  If it were night, she’d have heard the crickets chirping.

  “I guess that’s settled then,” announced Mr. Wagner. With a clap of his hands, all the ranch hands scattered, returning to their work. Only Trevor
and Scot remained.

  “Are you two gonna shake hands, or do I have to force you?” Mr. Wagner eyed them both sternly.

  Trevor reluctantly held out his arm. Scot used his free hand to shake Trevor’s, without letting go of Grace.

  “Hope you plan on taking good care of her. She’s a fine woman. If I were anywhere close to settling down, you’d have one hell of a battle on your hands,” said Trevor, the hostility easing away from his posture and tone.

  “I’d like to see the day when you settle down, Trevor Mansfield. Heck, I’ll even throw a party for the entire ranch to celebrate.” Mr. Wagner rested a hand on both of the men’s shoulders.

  “I’ll call you up on that…in about ten years.” Trevor chuckled, then picked up the pile of rope on the ground and strode back to the barn.

  Disaster averted…well, kind of. Scot still looked a mess, and her instincts to care for him overrode all her circuits.

  “Looks like you’ve chosen your path, Grace. I thought it would take you the full month, but you got there early. You deserve a hell of a lot better than your husband could give you. Seems you finally realized that.”

  “Dad, don’t call him that. Please.” Scot pressed on his lips with a finger and felt the inside of his split cheek with his tongue.

  “Right. You plan on signing those papers?” asked Mr. Wagner.

  She nodded. “I’m going to my room to sign them this minute.” Then she turned to Scot. “And you’re coming with me so I can patch you up.”

  “Jenna’s in the kitchen helping Pete. Ask her for the first-aid kit,” said Mr. Wagner. “Son, don’t be a pansy.”

  He sauntered off to the barn, not a care in the world. She loved that man.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Take off your shirt,” said Jenna as the three of them entered Grace’s bedroom. Scot complied, pulling the dirty rag over his head. He stood there, the shirt bunched up in one hand, all tall and muscled with the wounds of battle. The sexual energy coursing through Grace almost had her doubling over.