Date with Destiny

by Helen Lacey

  He’d mostly kept his hands to himself when they were dating. They’d made out plenty of times—but never quite like what had happened on the beach. She’d wanted to wait to make love and he’d respected her wishes, although he’d imagined a future together—a wedding, a wedding night. Until Grace had informed him of her big plans for a career and a future that didn’t include Crystal Point or the small-town police officer who wanted to marry her one day.

  But right now, she didn’t look like the Grace he’d come to resent. It was easier that way, easier not thinking about her perfectly beautiful face and body. And yet his skin felt tight watching her, waiting for her to speak. She was off balance, askew, and he knew it wasn’t the champagne doing damage.

  It churned something inside him, thinking he was responsible for the kind of hazy, almost lost look on her face as she stared into the microphone. He smiled again, different this time, without mockery, with only the intent to calm her obviously fractured nerves. She met his gaze and they remained like that for a moment, linked by some invisible thread that had nothing to do with the searing kisses they’d shared, or the years of thinly veiled antagonism that had come to define their relationship. He saw her relax, watched as her jaw loosened and then she began to speak.

  “Tonight is a celebration,” she said and then swallowed hard, as though the words were difficult to say. “Of love. Of trust. Of the commitment between two people.”

  She went on to talk about the bride and groom, speaking clearly and concisely as she wished the newlyweds a long and happy life. Cameron wondered if she meant it. He’d never heard her speak about love before. When she was done she returned to her seat and didn’t spare him another look.

  Dessert was served after that and Cameron pushed the sugary sweet around on his plate. The dancing started again and the woman beside him dug him in the ribs with her elbow, but he was in no mood for that either. He declined her invitation and managed a smile when she scooted off her chair. Mary-Jayne Preston was a pretty brunette with amazing green eyes—and she was Grace’s younger sister.

  Grace...

  She didn’t like him. He didn’t like her. But he’d wanted her and loved her most of his adult life. He thought he was over it. Thought he had it under control.

  Jackass...

  “Why do you look like you want to be somewhere else?”

  Cameron turned his head. Noah Preston. His best friend. And Grace’s older brother. “You know me and weddings,” he replied casually.

  The other man ducked into the empty chair beside him. “Are you tempted to take the walk yourself?” Noah asked.

  He shrugged to disguise the truth. Because he did want to get married. He wanted a wife and kids and the whole deal. Cameron longed for a family of his own. He was thirty-six years old and had dated a succession of women, none he saw for more than a few months. And none who invaded his deepest dreams like Grace Preston.

  He’d built a house designed for a family and lived in it alone. Dated women he knew weren’t going to figure permanently in his life. For a long time he’d avoided thinking about marriage and family. Once Grace left Crystal Point he’d pushed his focus into his career as a police officer and tried to forget about her. And their ongoing resentment for one another had fueled that focus. But now he wanted more. More than an empty house when he came home after a long shift at work, more than an empty bed. Or one filled occasionally with someone he barely knew.

  He wanted what his parents had. He wanted what his best friend had.

  “It’s not as bad as you think,” Noah said easily. “Actually, it’s the smartest move I ever made. You just need to find the right woman.”

  Noah had married Callie Jones eight months earlier and the stunning, blue-eyed, California horse-riding instructor had transformed his friend’s life. His four children had a new mother and Noah had the love of a woman he adored. And with Callie’s brother, Scott, now married to Evie, it seemed like everyone around him was getting their happily-ever-after.

  Just not me.

  It made him think of green eyes. Grace’s eyes. Noah would have a fit if he knew what he was thinking. Or what he’d been doing with her down by the beach.

  “I never said it was bad.”

  Noah laughed. “I’m sure there’s some sweet, easygoing girl out there who—”

  “I don’t want easygoing,” he said swiftly. “Or sweet.”

  Grace again. Because Grace wasn’t either of those things. She was smart and independent and reserved and coolly argumentative and...

  And she’s the only woman I’ve ever wanted.

  Noah laughed again. “Can’t say I blame you. I love my wife’s spirit.” There was a gleam in his friend’s eyes. “Makes life more interesting.”

  “I’ll bet,” Cameron said agreeably.

  “Were you with Grace earlier?”

  Cameron shot a glance at his friend. “For a minute,” he said and pushed aside the nagging guilt hitting him between the shoulder blades.

  “Something’s going on with her,” Noah said. “She said she’s taking some time off work. But she’s not talking about why, not even to Evie or our mother. Maybe breaking up with that attorney has something to do with it.”

  Cameron remembered what she’d said about the suit and sensed she wasn’t all that broken up about it. But what she’d said about not belonging—now that, he was sure, had something to do with her return home. Because it was completely unlike Grace to say a thing like that. Noah was right—something was going on with her. The Grace he knew didn’t show vulnerability. She was ice-cool and resilient. At eighteen she’d walked away from him and Crystal Point and moved to New York and had been there ever since, returning once or twice a year at the most. That was the Grace Preston he understood. Not the vulnerable one moment, hotter than Hades the next kind of woman who’d kissed him back like there was no tomorrow.

  Wanting her had made every other woman he’d known pale by comparison. And now he knew one thing—he either had to get Grace out of his head for good...or get Grace in his bed and in his life.

  She was home, on his turf. Maybe he had a shot. The way she’d kissed him gave him some optimism. That kind of response wasn’t fake. And he knew Grace. She wouldn’t pretend. Whatever was going on with her, Cameron was determined to find out. She’d resist and fight. She’d make things impossible. She’d cut him down with icy barbs and indifference.

  Suddenly that seemed like one hell of an interesting challenge.

  Cameron’s gaze centered on Grace. She was with Evie, talking close. His shirt collar got uncomfortably tight and irritation uncurled in his chest. Because he would bet right down to his boots that they were talking about him.

  * * *

  “So, what happened?”

  Grace tried to escape her sister’s viselike grip on her wrist but failed. Evie was persistent when she wanted something. She loved her sister and Evie was the one person she could really talk to. But not about this. Not about Cameron.

  “Nothing. We were just talking.”

  Evie’s dramatic brows rose. “Well, I imagine you were doing something with your tongues.”

  Grace flushed and tacked herself at Evie’s side to hide from Cameron’s view in case he looked her way. Her sister’s seven months pregnant belly was a good shield. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Evie chuckled. “Oh, no—you don’t get out of it that easy. I want details.”

  “I won’t say what...” Grace’s response faded on her lips. “Okay,” she admitted. “So we might have...”

  “Might have?” Evie interrupted without batting a lash.

  “We kissed,” she whispered into her sister’s ear, feeling about sixteen years old. She certainly wasn’t about to admit to anything else. “And that’s all I’m saying.”

  Evie hauled Grace i
nto the corner so they had more privacy. “You kissed Cameron?” she squealed. “Oh, my God! I can’t believe it.”

  Neither can I.

  “Well, I mean I can believe it,” Evie said in a wicked whisper. “Did it bring back a whole lot of memories?”

  Of course it did. But she wasn’t about to say that. Grace regretted ever telling her sister about the three-month relationship she’d had with Cameron—about the kisses and gentle touches and soft moans as they made out in the front seat of his car. Because it brought back other memories as well—the way she’d left, the way she’d run when she’d sensed he was getting serious. It was so long ago. In a different life. Wanting Cameron now was sheer madness. It was champagne that had made her behave so impulsively. And she hadn’t been with a man since forever. No wonder she’d acted like she did. She only hoped no one else saw their conspicuous entrance. The last thing she wanted was the Crystal Point rumor mill churning out theories about what had happened between her and the charming and popular Sergeant Jakowski down by the beach.

  Everyone liked Cameron. She knew some of what he did in the community—the volunteer work at the surf club, the time he spent with kids from the Big Brothers Big Sisters program. An all-around good guy. Honest, honorable and socially conscious. Grace knew it about him and had always felt like he was rubbing her nose in the fact. Irrational as it was, he made her feel selfish and, worse...self-absorbed. Like her life was meaningless and superficial. He never said it of course, rarely spoke to her unless to demean her fondness for pricey footwear or call her Princess in that infuriating way.

  “Can I steal my beautiful bride away for a dance?” Scott Jones approached and took Evie’s hand.

  “Of course,” Grace said and smiled when she saw the glow on her sister’s face. Evie had found true love with the handsome, California firefighter. “We were done anyway.”

  Evie smiled. “We’ll talk later,” she said and allowed herself to be swept away.

  Grace remained where she was and studied the crowd for a moment. The usual suspects were in attendance and a few she’d never met before, mostly friends and colleagues of the groom who’d traveled from Los Angeles. She spotted her younger sister Mary-Jayne, or M.J. as she was affectionately called, dancing closely with Gabe Vitali, the best man and cousin of the groom. She was supposed to have been partnered with the outrageously good-looking American, but M.J. had pleaded they swap groomsmen and Grace agreed, unable to refuse her sister’s request.

  “They make a cute couple.”

  Grace froze. Cameron had approached and edged alongside her. She glanced at him and he nodded toward M.J. and Gabe. “I’m no judge.”

  “And yet you’re usually so good at it.”

  It was a dig, but he was smiling so she let it pass. She wasn’t about to have an argument with him in front of so many people. “Did you want something?”

  “Just to see how you were doing.”

  Grace raised both shoulders. “As you can see, I’m perfectly fine.”

  “Good speech by the way.”

  “Thank you.” She took a deep breath. No thanks to him. “I should get back to—”

  He laid one finger against her wrist. “I think we should talk, Grace.”

  Awareness crept along her skin and she tingled where they touched. “I’d rather not.”

  “So, where are you staying?”

  Grace swiveled on her heels to face him. “At Evie’s.”

  “While she and Scott are on their honeymoon?” His brows came up. “Are they leaving you in charge of the B and B?”

  The query in his voice was skeptical. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not totally inept, you know.”

  He smiled to expose perfectly straight teeth. “I think it’s good of you to help out.”

  She pulled away from his touch, but Grace couldn’t ignore the way he watched her and her body was quickly on high alert.

  “So, shall we resume our earlier conversation?” he asked.

  Grace stepped back. “Don’t push it.”

  “You know, you look really beautiful when your cage is rattled.”

  “You’re an ass, Jakowski.”

  “And you’re hiding something,” he replied. “Whatever it is, Grace, you may as well come clean.”

  Heat crept up her neck and she hated that he could do that. “If there was anything wrong, I certainly wouldn’t be sharing it with you.”

  “Your family is concerned about you. Noah thinks you’re nursing a broken heart after breaking up with the suit.”

  “I’m not.”

  “I know.”

  He said the words with such arrogant authority that Grace glared at him. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Act as though you know or care. I’ll talk to my brother.”

  “When?”

  Grace’s skin burned. “When I’m ready.”

  “You’ve been home almost a week, seems to me like you would have had plenty of opportunity to tell your family what’s going on.”

  “Stay out of it,” she warned.

  “Or what?” He chuckled. He was toying with her. As usual. “Ah, Princess, you’re about as wound up as a spinning top at the moment.”

  “No thanks to you,” she fired back and crossed her arms.

  He smiled again. “By the way, you owe me a dance.”

  Dancing? After what had happened on the beach she had no intention of falling into his arms again. “You don’t have a chance of getting me on the dance floor.”

  “Things have a way of changing,” he said and gently took hold of her elbow. “As we discovered earlier.”

  The kiss. The touching. The insane desire that had taken hold. Of course he’d remind her about it. “Don’t imagine for one minute that we’ll be repeating that craziness anytime soon.”

  “Are you sure about that, Grace?”

  She stuck out her chin. “Positive.”

  “Such confidence,” he said in that vague, annoying way of his. “So, about that dance?”

  She clung to her resolve. “No.”

  “I could beg and embarrass you.”

  Grace refused to react. “You mean embarrass yourself. And surely there are other women here you can try to charm the pants off other than me.”

  He laughed and she hated that a few people looked in their direction. “Is that what you think I’m doing, Grace? Trying to get your pants off?”

  She cast him a sharp look. “Try your best, Hot Tub.”

  He grinned at her attempt to antagonize. But she knew he would win out. She’d called him the ridiculous name for a decade because he’d installed a huge spa bath at the house he’d built and her brother teased that it was to impress women. She hadn’t liked the idea then. And she liked it even less now.

  “Are you throwing down the gauntlet, Grace?”

  “Not at all.” She managed to pull away and put some space between them. “I’m...tired,” she said and shook her head. “Too tired to play games.”

  “Then tell me what’s going on with you. If you do I might be inclined to leave you alone.”

  Exasperated by his persistent badgering, Grace threw up her hands. “So, what do you want to know?”

  His gaze narrowed. “Why you’ve come back for so long this time?”

  “Because this is my home.”

  He clearly didn’t believe that for a second. “Last I heard New York was your home, Grace. Crystal Point was the place you couldn’t get away from fast enough.”

  It was a direct hit. She knew what he meant. Her career was the reason she’d left Crystal Point—the reason she’d put an end to their relationship all those years ago. She’d been overwhelmed, crowded, hemmed in...everything she didn’t want to be. Leaving had been h
er salvation. And her career had panned out exactly as she’d dreamed it would. Until the car wreck that had changed her life.

  Grace’s back stiffened. “You know why I left. I wanted... I wanted...”

  “Bright lights, big city.”

  She stilled. Quiet stretched between them, like brittle elastic. The music seemed to fade and Grace experienced a strange tightening behind her ribs. “It was never that simple.”

  “Yes, it was, Grace.” His voice was velvet-smooth, his expression unreadable. “You knew what you wanted. What you didn’t. And who you didn’t.”

  She looked into his eyes. It sounded so black-and-white. But nothing was simple anymore. And she didn’t have the courage to admit the truth—that she’d gone to New York to make her parents proud and become everything they’d hoped she would become...or that now she’d come home to save her life.

  Chapter Three

  On Sunday morning at her sister’s bed-and-breakfast, Grace reorganized the upstairs linen cupboard, alphabetized Evie’s cookbooks and by eleven o’clock was sitting on the sofa watching a corny movie on a cable channel.

  Anything to take her mind off the job she’d left in New York, the empty apartment that had never really felt like a home and the accident that killed her work colleague. An accident that had altered her in so many ways. Before that awful day she’d been in control of her life and future. There were no question marks. No uncertainty. At least none she was prepared to admit. She had known her trajectory. Her plan.

  You knew what you wanted. And who you didn’t.

  Cameron’s words rolled around in her head.

  Because there had been the sting of truth in those words.

  When they’d dated, when he’d said he had serious feelings for her and wanted to talk about their future together, she’d panicked and cut him down immediately. And as she sat in the lotus position on the sofa and stared absently at the television, Grace remembered what she’d said to him in stunning Technicolor.

  “I’m just not interested in anything serious. Especially not with a small-town cop. I’m getting out of Crystal Point as soon as I can. There’s nothing and no one that could ever hold me here.”