by Helen Lacey
Insensitive and cruel. And a pivotal moment in her life. What if she’d said something else to him? What if she’d had the courage to acknowledge her deepest, secret feelings and fears? And if she hadn’t left Crystal Point when she did, would she have felt even more trapped in their relationship, perhaps their marriage, had it ever come to that?
Grace sat back on the sofa and uncurled her legs.
Marriage had never figured in her life. Erik, who was as focused on his career as she was, had never mentioned it. Before Erik, she’d had a three-year relationship with Dennis Collier. The handsome and successful orthopedic surgeon had asked her twice to marry him—both times she’d insisted she was happy with the tempo of their relationship. She worked long hours and kept her own apartment. Toward the end they’d go for days without seeing one another. Eventually Dennis had traded her for a third-year resident at the hospital where he worked. Within six months of their breakup she heard he’d married and had a baby on the way.
The news hadn’t torn her up. She’d genuinely cared for Dennis—but knew it wasn’t the kind of feeling that could sustain her for a lifetime. There were feelings, certainly...but love? Grace wasn’t sure she even knew how to be in love. Long ago she’d run from those feelings, terrified they’d trap her, make her less than whole and dilute her ambition. She’d wanted a career. That’s what she’d planned for. That’s what her parents expected of her. Not marriage. Not babies. Not Crystal Point. That legacy was left to her brother and sisters. Noah took over running the family business and Evie was the original Earth Mother. While M.J. waltzed through life as a free spirit, making jewelry and saving the world with her causes. She was Grace Preston—smart, successful...untouchable.
Her cell rang, interrupting her thoughts, and she grabbed it from the coffee table.
“Hey, Princess.”
She bit back a startled gasp and took a deep breath. Strange that Cameron should telephone when her head was full of thoughts of him. “Would you stop calling me that?”
Cameron laughed softly. “I’ll do my best. So, how are things?”
“Since last night?” she shot back and ignored the rapid thump of her heart.
He was silent for a moment and Grace could swear he was smiling. “Come down to the surf club this afternoon.”
“What?”
“The surf club,” he said again. “I want to show you something.”
“What kind of something?”
“Something you’ll want to see.”
Grace colored hotly. The conversation was oddly flirtatious and she was startled by how it made her feel. “I...I don’t think so.”
“Oh, come on, Grace,” he said and laughed. “Live dangerously. You never know—you might like it.”
“No.”
“You’ll miss seeing something great.”
Again, more flirting, more...something. He was infuriating.
Grace made an unglamorous grunting sound. “Whatever game you’re playing, Jakowski, it’s not the least bit funny.”
“Game?” he said and chuckled. “That’s harsh, Princess. You need to learn to trust.”
He was laughing at her. As always. Her fingers turned white where she gripped the phone. “Jerk!”
She disconnected and wondered why he was the one person who could push her buttons so easily. And then she wondered why she cared that he did.
* * *
Her mother came to visit a little later and Grace made some tea and took a spot opposite at the big scrubbed table in the kitchen. Barbara Preston was the übermother. A career teacher, she’d managed to raise four children and work full-time until her retirement a few years earlier.
“So, what’s going on, Grace?”
She knew that tone—knew her mother had something to say. “Nothing,” she replied and poured the tea.
Her mother made a disbelieving sound and grabbed a mug. “Grace, I know something’s up with you. You’ve been home a week now. And other than at Christmastime every few years, you never stay this long.”
Grace looked at her mother. “I’m fine. Just taking a break.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie. She was on a break. A forced break. After the accident, her employer had insisted she see a therapist. Half a dozen visits later the counselor had recommended time off from her hectic job as a finance broker and her life in New York. Grace had resisted until she’d unexpectedly fallen apart one afternoon while meeting a client. Thankfully, the client hadn’t been appalled by her unstoppable tears, and instead had called on her secretary, who’d then informed her boss. Another therapy session followed and without any choice but to agree, the week she’d planned to come home for Evie’s wedding turned into a month.
“I’m worried about you.”
“There’s no need,” Grace assured her mother. “I was a little burned-out, that’s all.”
“You’re not sick or anything?”
“No,” she said quickly. There was no point mentioning the accident. She knew her mother would only worry. “I’m perfectly healthy.”
Barbara looked at her and smiled. “Okay, I’ll stop smothering. I did think it might have been a man who brought you back home.”
In a way it had been. Richard Bennett had been a colleague in the firm where she worked. He was also a devoted husband and father. A forty-nine-year-old man who hadn’t deserved his fate.
“There’s no man in my life,” she said quietly. “And Erik left a long time ago.”
“Are you looking for a relationship?”
It was an unexpected question. Her mother never meddled in her love life. And since her family had known of her career ambitions from a young age, her decision to move to New York was never challenged. “You know how I feel about all that.”
Barbara sighed and as always, Grace wished she knew how to really connect with her mother. Evie knew how. And Mary-Jayne. They fit in. Grace had always felt like she was watching her family from the outside. Oh, she was loved, she knew that. But being part of things? That was different. She’d never belonged in Crystal Point. New York had embraced her in ways the tiny town never had. Until she’d been forced to abandon that life.
Now she felt as misplaced as she had all those years ago when she’d been sent to boarding school. As a child she’d shown an aptitude for math and music and at twelve had been enrolled into a school that offered a curriculum designed for gifted children. She’d spent six years at that school, coming back only for the holidays. When her high school years were over, Grace had returned to Crystal Point for a few months. It was during that time that she began dating Cameron. Three months later she’d packed her bags and moved to New York.
Sixteen years on and she still didn’t know where she fit in.
“Marriage isn’t a prison sentence,” her mother said gently.
Grace nodded. “I know. But not everyone gets it all. And I’m not the settle down, picket fence type.”
“I only want to see you happy.”
“I know that, too,” Grace replied. “And I am,” she said and smiled. Not exactly the truth, but she wasn’t about to burden her mother with her problems. She needed to forget. Not dwell.
“Sometimes I think...” Her mother’s voice faded for a moment. “I think that you were too young to have left home when you did all those years ago.”
“I was strong-willed,” Grace said, and managed a smile. “And I wanted to go.”
Her mother patted her hand. “I know you did. And your dad and I were so proud of you for having the courage to follow your dreams. And we’re still proud, Grace. You always were our shining star.”
She’d heard it before. That’s why she’d been sent to boarding school while the other Preston children remained in Crystal Point. Grace is special. Grace is so smart. Grace will have a stellar career in whatever field she
chooses. How often had she heard those words while she was growing up and attending the school? Within six months she’d been pushed up a grade and then spent the following five years as the youngest student in her class. She knew it had cost her parents tens of thousands every year for her tuition. She owed them a lot for giving her the education she’d had. But there were also times when she’d wished she was simply ordinary Grace Preston. Without the high IQ. Without the pressure to succeed and make good grades.
She’d never told her parent’s how she’d felt. There never seemed the right time. To complain would make her ungrateful, undeserving. And once school was over she just wanted to move on from those unhappy years.
When her mother left, Grace changed into designer jeans, high-end mules and a white, immaculately pressed T-shirt. She found a visor hanging on a peg near the back door and positioned it on her head. She needed to walk. To think.
The beach beckoned.
Winter meant fewer swimmers, even though the day was warm and the water temperature would probably be moderate. Grace locked up the private living area upstairs and checked on the single guest who was lazing in the front sunroom. The lone occupant was a gentleman in his sixties who had come to Dunn Inn alone for the first time in ten years, following the death of his wife. Talking with him for a few minutes stretched Grace’s emotions and by the time she’d said goodbye and headed outside, her throat was tight and thick. Her nerves were fraught enough and the sad widower somehow pushed her buttons. She took a deep breath and walked across the road. The grassy shoulder led to a long pathway, which ran parallel with the ocean and wound down toward the beach.
Grace followed the trail at a reasonable pace and it took about ten minutes to reach the sandy knolls leading up to the beach. She stalled at the edge of the rise and took a deep breath. The surf club stood to her left.
I didn’t come here for this. For him. I’m not going anywhere near that building.
Only...she was curious.
Grace took a second, shook her shoulders and walked across the path.
* * *
“There’s just no way I can do it!”
Cameron bit back an exasperated sigh as seventeen-year-old Emily Maxwell pulled a pile of books from a battered knapsack. “You knew it was going to be difficult.”
“But not impossible,” she wailed and dumped the bag at her feet. “I’ll never learn this stuff in time.”
“You’ve two weeks before you need to sit that makeup exam, Em,” he reminded her.
She rolled her eyes toward the toddler playing on a mat in the corner of the room. “And I’ve got a two-year-old kid to look after. It ain’t gonna happen. It’s over.”
“How about I ask your grandmother to help with the baby?”
Emily shook her head. “She’s got my brothers and sister to take care of. And they’re all going out to the farm next week.”
Cameron had heard the same story all afternoon. The teenager had been given an opportunity to complete a makeup exam that would go toward her final grade. But she’d talked of giving in to the pressure and Cameron knew he needed to do something to stop her from throwing away her chance at an education. He just didn’t know what. Emily was the oldest sister of Dylan. Twelve-year-old Dylan was one of his charges in the Big Brother program sponsored by his station. When Cameron inherited Dylan from the retiring sergeant at the station, he also inherited the teenage mother, her ailing grandmother and two other half siblings. Officially Dylan was his Big Brother charge, but the rest of them were in such dire circumstances, Cameron feared they’d all slip through the cracks and end up separated and in social services. They were a loving family, but down on their luck and needing help.
When Pat Jennings got custody of her grandchildren from her drug-addicted and incarcerated daughter, the town rallied together and raised funds enough for a deposit on a small farm out west. With the house a few months away from being ready for the families’ final move, Cameron knew this was Emily’s last chance to finish high school. If only she could get past her resistance to study so she could complete the makeup examination. Emily was intelligent, but lacked confidence. She’d missed classes and failed to finish set assignments throughout the year as she juggled single parenthood. It was a heavy load for a girl not yet eighteen.
“You have to find the time to study,” he said quietly.
“It’s not only the time,” she complained bitterly. “The work is just too...well, it’s too hard. And I’m not smart enough.”
She was. But she clearly didn’t believe it.
“I think the best thing at the moment is for you to—”
“Hey, Sarge!” called Dylan as he popped his head around the door. “There’s a lady here to see you.”
A lady? He looked toward Emily. “Keep studying. I’ll be back in a minute and we’ll continue this discussion.”
“But I—”
“Hit the books,” he said and smiled, then turned on his heel.
The second floor of the surf club had recently undergone a complete renovation following a fire four months earlier. Now it was used for Tai Chi classes, the Big Brother program and a couple of other local community events. Today it was a place for Emily to study without interruption while he spent time with Dylan.
Cameron headed down the stairs and came to an abrupt halt when he reached the bottom tread.
Grace.
A jolt hit him behind the ribs. He looked at Dylan, who was hanging off to her left and grinning. “Go and get the fishing gear ready,” he instructed and tossed him the keys to his car.
Dylan caught the keys and took off quickly. When he was out of sight Cameron turned his attention to Grace. “Hi.”
“Hello.”
“You came.”
She shrugged a little. “I was walking...I simply happened to... Well, I was nearby and thought I’d come in.”
The sensation in his chest amplified. “I’m glad you did.” Cameron held out his hand. “Come on up.”
She looked at his hand and hesitated. He waited. Grace never acted on impulse. Her actions were always measured. Always in control. She looked immaculate, as usual. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly and caught in a band at her nape. The only anomaly in her seriously fashionable look was the well-worn hot pink visor on her head. She finally took his hand and he instinctively curled his fingers around hers. She didn’t resist and followed him up the stairway.
When they reached the landing she withdrew her hand and crossed her arms. “So, what did you want to show me?”
Cameron smiled. “Nothing sinister.”
“Not that I’m likely to believe you,” she said, raising her perfectly sculpted brows.
He cracked another smile. “Come on, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
Cameron opened the door to one of the two upstairs rooms and beckoned her inside. She tagged after him and he closed the door. Emily looked up from her spot at the desk positioned by the long row of windows. He ushered Grace across the room.
“Emily, this is Grace Preston, a friend of mine.”
“Girlfriend?” the teen asked and stood.
“Friend,” Grace corrected as she shook Emily’s hand. “And I think I just met your brother?”
“Yeah, Dylan,” Emily said and laughed. “We look alike.”
The toddler in the corner tapped loudly on the plastic drum he was playing with.
“And that’s Riley,” Cameron explained. “Emily’s son.”
Grace nodded, frowning a little. He could see her looking at Emily with interest before she glanced at the books on the table. “But it looks as though I’m interrupting you.”
“No, you’re saving me,” Emily replied with a wry grin. “Sergeant Jakowski is a slave driver.”
Grace laughed and the sound hit Cameron direct
ly behind the ribs. Damn. He wished everything about her didn’t affect him like he was a pining schoolboy. “Emily needs to study for a makeup exam in two weeks. This is a quiet place for her to hit the books while Dylan and I go fishing.”
“Then I am interrupting you,” Grace replied. “I should go.”
“No,” Cameron said, too quickly. “Stay for a while.” He saw her surprised look and fought the color creeping up his neck. But she was here. And he wanted her to stay. “You’re handy with the books, right?” he asked and smiled as he pulled out a chair.
Handy with the books was an understatement. Grace was the smartest person he’d ever known. As a child she’d always been top of her class, even before she’d gone to that fancy school. Then she’d headed off to New York to study finance and business. After that he’d heard she’d been headhunted by some of the top brokerage firms in the city.
Grace nodded, clearly still hesitant. “I’m not sure I can—”
“That would be great,” Emily said with more enthusiasm than he’d heard from her all afternoon. “I need all the help I can get.”
Cameron tapped the back of the chair and spoke. “I’ll be back in a little while.”
* * *
Once Cameron left, Grace sat down. Emily stared at her and grinned.
“So, are you and the Sarge—”
“No,” Grace replied quickly and pushed back the heat in her cheeks. “We’re just friends,” she said, even if it wasn’t exactly true. “We’ve known one another since we were kids.”
And he was the first man I kissed.
Even though she’d developed a silly crush on him when she was twelve, Grace knew she was a “late bloomer” when it had come to boys and sex. While her classmates were pining over pop icons and movie stars, she had her head firmly placed in textbooks or a Jane Austen novel. Being a year younger hadn’t helped. She was teased for her bookish ways, her flat chest and seeming lack of interest in any of the boys from the nearby all-male college. By the time her chest arrived she’d already earned the reputation as being stuck-up and closed off from the other girls in her class. And after a while she learned to embrace the isolation from her peers. Making friends lost any appeal and she didn’t waste time thinking about boys or romance.