Breaking Her Rules

by Jennifer Snow

  Oh shit. Gracie choked on her coffee and reached for a napkin.

  “You okay, Gracie?” Walker asked.

  “Fine.”

  “You mean the lovelock chain?” Grams said.

  “Yes!” Faith hit the screen on her iPhone and read. “Says here that Lovelock adopted the ancient Chinese custom of symbolically locking one’s love on a never-ending chain, and the love will endure as long as the lock remains on the chain. Isn’t that romantic?”

  Gracie sighed. The town had started the tradition about ten years before and as teenage girls, she and Kylie had thought it was the most romantic thing ever. They’d both vowed to find the love of their lives someday and return to Lovelock and carry on the tradition. Then Kylie had fallen for Mike and the two had “locked in their love” only to have the relationship dissolve two months later. She and Kylie had snuck out in the middle of the night with a metal cutter to remove the lock. It was that moment when Gracie had realized what a crock of shit the tradition actually was.

  “Isn’t what romantic?” Erik asked, entering through the kitchen door.

  Oh, now he arrives.

  “This town’s tradition of locking in one’s love and commitment with a symbolic gesture.” Faith handed him her phone and he read.

  Sensible Erik would see it for what it was. She wasn’t worried he’d get some crazy idea to—

  “We should do it,” he said.

  Grace choked on her coffee once more.

  Walker dropped his fork and stood.

  Damn. “Oh no, Erik, it’s a stupid tradition.” She glanced at her watch. “And we really should get on the road soon.”

  Erik glanced at Walker, his expression unreadable. “There’s time,” he said.

  Since when? Before they’d even gotten in the vehicle to drive to Lovelock, he’d been complaining about the trip, the time away from work. Now he wanted to stay longer to put a lock on a chain?

  “Yes. Of course there’s time. This is so wonderful.” Faith clapped her hands.

  Shut up, Faith!

  “What’s wonderful?” Kylie asked through a yawn as she entered.

  Thank God. Her best friend would get her out of this. “Nothing. Kylie, tell them how lame the lovelock tradition is.”

  Kylie’s eyes widened, and at the counter Walker folded his arms and stared at her with a challenging look in his eyes that seemed to say, If you love him, what’s the problem?

  Then to her surprise, Kylie shrugged. “Do it if you want.”

  “Kylie!”

  “What? You’re moving in together anyway, right?”

  Grace made the mistake of looking at Walker before answering, but he’d turned away, his gaze lost somewhere out the kitchen window. She forced a smile. “Right.”

  “Great!” Faith said. “Let’s get ready. Oh . . . does anyone have a lock?”

  “I do,” Walker said.

  Obviously his fight for her was over.

  She straightened in her chair. Good. She wouldn’t want him accepting another fight he couldn’t win. “Fantastic. Thanks, Walker.”

  ***

  “Wait! You can’t just put it on! We should say something or . . . something. Shouldn’t we?”

  Walker wanted to strangle Faith. No, they shouldn’t say something. Only he should say something. Put a stop to this. Not that he held any belief in the sentimental old tradition, but he hated to think he’d never be able to drive past the courthouse in his hometown ever again without seeing Gracie’s love locked to someone else. Especially when he knew it was bullshit. Gracie wasn’t in love with Erik, because she was in love with him.

  Yet, she was choosing the safe path, the road to a secure future. He wanted to be angry with her for it, but all he felt was frustration and pain. Frustration that he couldn’t give her the future she wanted—not yet, at least. Asking her to take a chance on him, on them, wasn’t something he could continue to do.

  Gracie had never had security. She’d never known what it felt like to not have to worry and stress over money and her future. She deserved this life with Erik, if it was what she wanted.

  “I don’t think . . .” Gracie started, her hand posed with Erik’s over the chain, the open lock in her hand.

  “No, Faith is right. Kylie, you’re Grace’s best friend. Care to bless this union?” Erik said.

  “Not really,” she mumbled, and Walker kicked her. She glared at him and sighed. “Fine. Um . . . Gracie and Erik, I . . . we wish you a lifetime of love and happiness . . . and nice . . .”

  They all stared at her expectantly. Hurry the hell up, Kylie.

  “. . . cutlery?” she said with a shrug.

  Good enough. “Cheers to that.” He motioned for the couple to get on with it. He was aching to get on the road, get back to the gym, and then search for an apartment. He couldn’t continue to live with Gracie. Not now. In a week, she was moving in with Erik. And eventually they would get married. He couldn’t have a front row seat to all of that.

  “Go ahead,” Faith urged.

  Walker turned away.

  “Actually, before we do this. There’s something I need to ask Grace,” Erik said, causing him to turn back. “I was waiting for the right moment, but I think now is the perfect time.”

  Walker’s hands clenched into tight fists at his side as Erik dropped to one knee. The lock on the chain had been bad enough. This was torture. Not only was the woman he was falling in love with about to get engaged, he had to watch it happen.

  Beside him, Faith clapped her hands together. Kylie was shaking her head no—whether she realized she was doing it or not, he wasn’t sure—and Gracie’s face had lost all color, as she stared at Erik on bended knee.

  Erik retrieved a blue Tiffany box from his pocket and opened it. He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  Hardly the expected expression of a man hopelessly in love proposing to the woman he wanted to spend a lifetime with. Was he the only one seeing this?

  “Grace, will you marry me?” Erik said.

  Seriously? That was it? No declaration of undying love and commitment? No telling her how fantastic and amazing she was? The proposal sounded more like a business offer to his ears, but, next to him, Faith was tearing up, so what the hell did he know? Maybe all that mattered was the size of the diamond inside the box.

  But Gracie wasn’t looking at the diamond. She was looking straight at him.

  ***

  Grace’s entire body trembled as she stared at Walker. His expression was void. Her chest tightened and her mouth went dry. She should be looking at her fiancé right now, accepting his proposal, allowing him to place a ring on her finger, starting her happily ever after. Not staring at the man she’d always loved, waiting for him to make this decision for her.

  Break up with him, he’d told her the night before. Give us a chance. His words echoed over and over, making her want to scream. Where had he been for the last five years? Where had their chance been when she was available to take it?

  Maybe the reason he was here now, complicating her life, was because she was about to make a mistake with Erik. Oh God, she was sounding like her mother. She didn’t believe in fate. Her feet were planted firmly in reality. And reality was that Walker Adams would always be a fantasy and nothing more.

  “Grace?” Erik asked when her hesitation lasted a second too long.

  She glanced quickly at Kylie, whose eyes were wide as she shook her head no, and immediately wished she hadn’t. Her best friend didn’t think this was the right thing to do. Was she right?

  She took the extended box and finally looked at the ring. Her stomach turned and she thought she might throw up. Damn it! That was not the reaction a three-carat diamond solitaire was supposed to evoke. What the hell was wrong with her? This expensive, extravagant ring was a symbol of the life she would have. The life she’d wanted up until two weeks ago.

  She hesitated, glancing around her once more. Her gaze took in her past. The old courthouse where she’d sat
on the steps on a hot summer day, watching the cars pass through the small town on their way to more exciting lives, wishing someday she’d be one of them. The diner where she’d sat on a barstool, waiting for her mother to finish work every evening, falling asleep in a booth on the nights her mother worked late. The church where she’d attended Sunday school and then stayed to collect the charitable donation from the priest that they gave the poorer town residents each week. And then, finally, the row of locks on the chain, symbolizing forever, symbolizing a future that would free her from a past she never wanted to experience again.

  Everything else faded away as she glanced at Erik, waiting for her answer. How could she say no when he was offering her everything she’d always wanted? She swallowed hard, forcing a smile as she took the ring from the box and handed it to him. “Yes. Of course I will.”

  Chapter 10

  These boxes were impossible to carry. Of all days for the building to be doing elevator maintenance. And she wasn’t exactly dressed properly to be lugging ten large, flattened moving boxes from her car, up three flights of stairs, and into her apartment. Her pencil skirt and high heels only made the job more difficult, but she’d gone to the packing supply store immediately after work, not wanting to waste any more time going forward with her move. She was starting to think Erik had been right about hiring movers to do all the work, including packing, but the idea of strangers going through her things . . .

  No, she thought. She could do this. But her grip on the cardboard continued to slip with each step she climbed, and the edges dug into her sides and the backs of her legs, poking holes in her twenty-dollar-a-pair nylons.

  “Shit!” she said as several boxes in the middle of the pack slipped from her grasp and slid all the way back down the flight of stairs. She sighed as she set the rest of them on the next landing and carefully descended the stairs in her four-inch strappy sandals to pick up the boxes.

  Moving sucked.

  You’re moving in with Erik, your fiancé. Suck it up, get these boxes up the stairs, and start packing. Moving day was seven days away. She’d been putting this off long enough.

  As she tossed the boxes onto the others at the top of the stairs, she let out a deep breath. Then, picking them all up again, she attacked the last flight. At the top, she opened the door leading to her hallway, dropped them all on the floor, and pushed them with her foot all the way to her apartment. She tried the knob, but it was locked.

  Good, Walker wasn’t there. She’d been hoping to have the apartment to herself to get some of the packing done. Since the awkward drive back to Las Vegas from Lovelock the day of Erik’s proposal, they’d barely seen each other and they’d spoken even less. Clearly, he was as desperate to avoid her as she was him.

  Accepting Erik’s proposal had been the right thing, but she hated that she may have hurt Walker in the process. She couldn’t erase the look of disappointment on his face after she’d said yes.

  She wondered if he’d found a place yet. He said he was planning to start looking right away, but with training and working at the bar, she wasn’t sure when he would find time.

  Not her problem, she reminded herself as she pushed open the door and tossed her purse onto the counter. She’d agreed to three weeks. And now move-out day couldn’t come fast enough. She must have been insane to agree to let Walker stay with her in the first place. She should have known allowing him back into her life would only complicate things and bring back unwanted feelings and memories.

  Seven days. In one week things would go back to normal. Her sanity would return. Things with Erik would be better when she wasn’t torn or confused. They could start planning the wedding and get on with the rest of their lives.

  She paused, scanning the apartment that had been her first place alone. She’d loved it the day she’d signed the lease, and she still loved it. It wasn’t big and spacious and elegant like Erik’s home, but it was cozy and warm. And it was decorated to her taste.

  Well, she and Erik would have to redecorate his place. It would be fun to go shopping with him for new furniture, new dishes, things that they both liked. She was determined to build a home with him and not just move into the home and lifestyle he’d created. Surely he’d be open to making changes that reflected them as a couple. Right?

  She bit her lip, hating that she wasn’t entirely sure. Picking up her phone, she texted him.

  We should go furniture shopping this weekend.

  She tapped her fingernails against the counter, waiting for a reply, which was ridiculous, seeing as how he could sometimes take hours to . . . Her cell phone chimed with his response.

  I like the furniture I have.

  She tossed the phone onto the counter. He liked the furniture he had, including a bed he’d shared with other women, Faith Hart included. The thought made her shudder. The idea that she hadn’t been the first woman to sleep in his bed hadn’t bothered her before. Now that it would be her bed too? Suddenly that changed things. But, he liked the furniture he had. Clearly, what she liked didn’t matter. Irritation seeped through her. She was the one giving up her place . . .

  For a much better one . . .

  Getting rid of most of her own furniture . . .

  For better-quality stuff . . .

  Damn. She didn’t need to argue with Erik. The constant back-and-forth in her own mind was conflict enough.

  Removing her shoes, she headed to her bedroom to change. She tied her hair back into a ponytail and ten minutes later, she stood in her kitchen, staring into the cupboards. Did she really want to pack her dishes? Was there any point?

  Maybe Walker could use them. Maybe he’d want her furniture too. Someone may as well get use out of it. She started removing the cups from the first cupboard and wrapping them in paper. She filled a box and labeled it with his name. Then she moved on to the next one—leaving enough dishes out for them to use for the next seven days.

  Her cell phone rang and she scanned the kitchen for it, following the ringtone until finally locating it beneath a pile of wrapping paper on the counter. “Hello,” she said on the fifth ring.

  “Hi, honey,” her mother’s voice said, tears evident.

  “What’s the matter, Mom?” she asked carefully.

  “Dale moved out.”

  Huh, maybe he could use some furniture, she thought wryly, still annoyed by Erik’s apparent dismissal of her input on their furniture. Would he be unrelenting about other things as well?

  “I’m heartbroken. I thought this time would be different,” her mother was saying.

  Grace sighed. She hated hearing her happy, easygoing mother so distressed, but how many times was she going to let herself get hurt before realizing she couldn’t believe every smooth-as-silk line from every charmer passing through town? “Did you really, Mom?”

  “Yes . . . no . . . I don’t know. I was hoping.” The sobs started.

  Forever hoping, her mother was an eternal optimist. “I know,” she said softly. “But you’re going to be fine. This isn’t your first broken heart. In a few weeks, you’ll be wondering why you took this so hard.” She’d seen it happen over and over again with her mother. She fell head over heels and then took it hard when things ended. Then within a few weeks, she’d bounce right back, usually once she’d found someone else. Being alone never really seemed to be an option her mother considered.

  “I wish I could be more like you, Gracie,” she said through another sob. “You don’t let your emotions take over like I do. You’re so smart, and thoughtful, you never take a risk.”

  She frowned. This was supposed to be good? It didn’t sound good. Though it did ring true. “I take risks,” she said quickly. “Moving to Las Vegas was a risk.”

  “Not really. You hated living in Lovelock, and you had a scholarship to college.”

  “Well, I take risks all the time at work.”

  “Honey, I wasn’t saying it was a bad thing. I just meant with your heart. You play it safe. Like with Erik. Agreeing to marry
him.”

  “Erik’s not safe. Just because we are not all over each other in public doesn’t mean we’re not totally hot for one another, Mom.” When was the last time they’d had sex again? She shook her head. It was happening that evening, she decided—no more excuses.

  “I’m sure your sex life is fine, Gracie. Don’t get defensive.”

  Fine. She sighed. Fine was probably too generous an assessment these days if she had to make a plan to have sex with her boyfriend. “I’m not getting defensive, I just wish everyone would stop thinking that I’m only with Erik because of the security he offers. That’s not it.” At least it wasn’t the only reason. “Besides, why is that so bad? Passion fades, Mom. Who knows that better than you? Erik and I have common goals, similar life plans . . .” He hadn’t kissed her—like really kissed her—in . . . no, it couldn’t have been that long.

  “That’s what I was saying, Gracie. I admire that about you. Your ability to put your emotions aside and think rationally about love . . . That’s smart. You don’t want to end up like me, Gracie.”

  Grace slid down the length of the pantry and slumped onto the kitchen floor. For years she’d fought against that very thing. Becoming like her mother. Letting her heart dictate her life choices and ending up hurt. The feelings she’d had for Walker years ago were the only ones she knew had been based solely on her attraction to him, her longing to be near him, her needing to be in his life . . . feelings that had never gone away. Feelings that perhaps made it possible for her to approach every other possible union with a calculated, clearheaded approach. She couldn’t give her heart to anyone else, if Walker still had it.

  She rested her head in her hand. “You know, Mom, ending up like you wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

  Two hours and almost a full bottle of wine later, her packing abandoned, Gracie sat on her living room floor, a box of tissues on one side of her and a bag of Doritos on the other. On the television, Harry was confessing his love to Sally, and she was a bawling idiot. Rom coms were not the kind of movies she normally watched, and now she remembered why. She dabbed her eyes with a tissue as the apartment door opened.