What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 4)

by Selena Kitt

I look into his dark eyes. The panic attack now seems like a distant memory. Whenever he’s with me I feel more than OK, and I don’t know what I’ll do when he’s got a new job. His interview is next week, and although I really want him to get it, I’m going to miss having him here with me.

  ‘Shall I walk you back to the flat?’ He releases my hands.

  ‘Thanks.’ I wipe my face with the heel of my hands as embarrassment creeps in at what he’s witnessed yet again. I must look a complete mess, but if I do, Ben doesn’t give any indication of it.

  I turn off the lights, lock the door, and he takes hold of my hand again.

  ‘You’re safe, OK? You’ll always be safe with me. I promise nothing bad will happen to you while I’m around.’ He threads his fingers through mine and walks me back around to my flat.

  He watches as I head up the stairs to my front door. I put my key in the lock and hesitate before turning it. I don’t know if it’s the visualization exercise he just got me to do that makes me feel suddenly bold, or the fact that I don’t know how much time we have left working together, but I surprise myself by saying, ‘We didn’t get that celebration drink.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you…do you want to go for a drink tomorrow night and help me celebrate?’

  He smiles. ‘I’d like that. Where do you want to go?’

  ‘How about a quiet pub?’

  ‘Sounds perfect. But on one condition.’

  I tilt my head, confused. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It should be a proper celebration, so you need a night off completely from your trauma. The condition is we only talk about good things. Deal?’

  I laugh, because it seems like such a counsellor/psychologist thing to say, but at the same time, it’s what I need to hear. ‘Deal.’

  ‘Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, then,’ he says.

  I head inside and check the locks once. Everything that he tells me to do to get over this empowers me a little bit more every day, and I can’t wait to write it all down because this is a turning point. I’m not giving Theo control over me anymore.

  As I grab the journal and tuck my legs underneath me on the sofa, my phone pings with a text from Ben.

  ‘Are you all locked up? You didn’t text?’

  ‘Sorry, forgot to text you. Yes, they’re locked. Thanks, Ben.’

  ‘You don’t have to thank me. Good night, Grace.’

  ‘Night, Ben.’

  I smile and start writing:

  Positive thought of the day: Face Everything and Rise!

  Thing I’m grateful for: Ben (again!)

  The visualization exercise was amazing. As I did it, I could feel the power draining out of him and seeping into me. Ben was right; being able to laugh at him has lessened his hold over me. And I’ve made a decision. I’m not going to allow myself to be afraid any more…

  I write for two hours. As I head for bed, I can’t stop the huge smile on my face. I’m taking control of my life now.

  This is the beginning of a new Grace.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Ben

  I walk back home, unable to stop smiling. I’m so glad I was there to help her tonight. I couldn’t stand the thought of her falling apart like that without me. It’s just so wrong.

  A drink is good. A drink in a pub means something other than work friends chatting over a hot chocolate, doesn’t it? It’s a big step for her to ask something like that, so I want to make sure it’s a perfect night. I can’t mess this up. She’s become too important to me.

  After what happened to Mia, I said I’d never allow myself to feel anything for anyone ever again, but Grace has crept under my skin. No, more than that. She’s burrowed through all the scar tissue and crept into my heart.

  The walls I’ve built around myself are crumbling, and it’s all because of her.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Grace

  The morning starts off wrong. I don’t hear my alarm and oversleep, which has happened a few times lately. I don’t have time to do my makeup, so I swipe on some lipstick. I’m out the door and in the shop, baking, in record time.

  At eight-thirty, I already have a queue of five people, and the place is buzzing with conversation and noise from the customers.

  I don’t even see Lisa until she walks behind the counter, pulling on an apron.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I gasp.

  She bumps her shoulder with mine. ‘I came to see my favourite coffee shop owner. Looks like I’m just in time, too.’ She winks at me and serves the next customer.

  ‘You don’t have to help me out. You should be at home with your feet up.’

  ‘I’m too restless, and Jack’s at work, so I’m bored.’ She fills a customer’s order for a cappuccino. ‘Where’s Ben?’

  ‘He’s doing his youth counselling. He’ll be in later.’

  Two hours pass, and the queue disappears. Lisa swings around to me, hand on hip, as if she can’t wait to tell me something.

  ‘So, how are you?’ I ask. ‘You look great.’ I give her a hug. She’s got even bigger in the last few weeks I haven’t seen her.

  She waves her hand through the air. ‘I’m great. Let’s talk about you instead.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘You look different.’ She eyes me with a slight smile.

  My hand reaches for my cheek. ‘Yeah, I overslept and didn’t get a chance to put my makeup on. That’s why I look different. I’m surprised I’m not giving the customers a fright.’

  ‘You’re too gorgeous to frighten them off. And you look as fabulous without makeup as you do with it. No, it’s not that. You look…’ She steps back to observe me more carefully. ‘Happy. And healthy. You’ve got more colour in your cheeks.’ She gives me a knowing look. ‘It’s Ben, isn’t it?’

  My cheeks flush. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  I can tell she doesn’t believe me. She considers me for a while, and when she speaks, her voice is so low I have to strain to hear it.

  ‘Don’t let one man ruin things for all men. I think Ben’s a good guy.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ I make a dismissive tutting sound.

  ‘I know you’re a private person, and you’ve never told me what happened to you, but I’m not blind. A man did something that hurt you in the past. That’s why you never date anyone, isn’t it?’

  My jaw drops open. I can’t be that transparent, surely. I’ve had a whole year of practicing my fake life as a normal, sane woman. I’m so shocked I don’t know what to say. ‘I…um…’

  Her face softens into a kind smile, and she adds, ‘But they’re not all the same. I like Ben. I think he’s a really nice guy. He’s kind and…’ She purses her lips, thinking. ‘He’s stable.’

  I turn my attention to the coffee machine, because I’m shocked that she’s guessed something about my past and never said anything. ‘Ben’s just a friend.’

  ‘Oh, talk of the devil,’ Lisa says.

  I turn round, and Ben’s walking through the door. My heart stops for a second before kicking into gear again as he gives us a big grin.

  ‘Morning, ladies. How are you both?’ His gaze searches Lisa’s face before settling on me.

  ‘Good, thanks.’ I blush as if somehow he can tell we’ve been talking about him. Well, Lisa’s been talking about him; I was just roped into it.

  ‘I’m good, too, thanks.’ Lisa pats her stomach and watches him watch me.

  As he goes to the kitchen to get an apron, she whispers in my ear, ‘That look he just gave you? That is so not a friend look!’

  When Ben steps behind the counter, Lisa walks round the other side.

  ‘So, you promised me free drink and food.’ Lisa grins at me. ‘I’m eating for two now, don’t forget, and that lemon drizzle cake’s got my name on it.’

  ‘Coming right up.’ Ben grabs a plate and loads it up with two pieces. ‘What do you want to drink?’

  ‘Guess,’ Lisa says misc
hievously.

  He studies her for a while. Lisa doesn’t drink coffee since she’s been pregnant, and the only thing she used to drink at work was either water or orange juice, which Ben knows. So I’m surprised when he says, ‘Peppermint tea?’

  Lisa raises her eyebrows, her mouth forming a shocked O. ‘How did you know that?’

  He shrugs casually with a lopsided grin. ‘I’m guessing the baby’s sitting a bit high, and you’ve got indigestion.’ He eyes the cake. ‘So, you’ve got a craving for peppermint.’

  ‘OK, Mr Smarty Pants, I bet you can’t guess the orders of the next people that come in,’ Lisa says.

  He reaches out and shakes her hand, rising to the challenge. ‘You’re on.’

  As the door opens, we all turn to see the next customer. It’s a guy in his early twenties who looks like a student, wearing scuffed trainers and jeans so baggy they’re in danger of falling down.

  ‘He’s going to have a double espresso with three sugars,’ Ben whispers to us.

  I cross my arms over my chest, watching with amusement.

  ‘What can I get you?’ Ben asks the guy.

  ‘Double shot of espresso,’ he says.

  Lisa and I give each other raised eyebrows as Ben smirks.

  Ben hands the guy his coffee. He goes to the self-service counter and dumps in three packets of sugar.

  ‘Fluke!’ Lisa says.

  ‘How did you know?’ I ask him.

  ‘He’s got red-rimmed eyes, and his hair’s still got the imprint of his pillow on it. He’s either just got up, he’s got a hangover, or he’s been busy cramming for exams. He needs something to wake him up.’

  ‘Nah, it’s a fluke.’ Lisa grins. ‘OK, what about her?’

  An elderly woman comes through the doorway. Her short, curly grey hair is wrapped in a scarf, and she’s bundled up in a thick coat, even though it’s about twenty-five degrees outside.

  ‘Cinnamon swirl and a hot chocolate,’ Ben whispers as the woman examines the food display.

  ‘Can I help you?’ I ask her.

  ‘Yes, can I have a Danish pastry and a cup of tea, please?’

  Lisa and I give Ben a smug look.

  I turn round to do the tea when she says, ‘Actually, those cinnamon swirls look good. I’ll have one of those. And make it a hot chocolate instead, please.’

  My jaw nearly hits the floor. Lisa lets out a snort of disbelief.

  As the woman takes a seat in the corner, I say, ‘How did you know that?’

  He grins. ‘She just looks like she could do with it.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Lisa asks incredulously.

  ‘Well…she’s got a thick coat on, even though it’s hot outside, and she looks all skin and bone underneath. Cinnamon’s warming, and hot chocolate’s comforting.’

  ‘Are you psychic?’ Lisa asks.

  ‘No, I can just read people pretty well.’

  ‘OK, what about her?’ I spy a gothic-looking girl of about eighteen coming in. Her black hair is backcombed high on her head. Thick black eye makeup, red lipstick, and wearing black leggings with a black ripped T-shirt.

  ‘Earl Grey tea,’ Ben chuckles.

  ‘No way,’ Lisa says. ‘I think it’s black coffee.’

  ‘What can I get you?’ Ben asks her.

  ‘A large Earl Grey tea to take out, please.’ She smiles at him.

  OK, I’m officially impressed now.

  ‘Earl Grey?’ Lisa shakes her head as the girl heads back out of the shop. ‘What? How do you do it? There’s no way you could know that.’

  Ben casually crosses his arms over his chest. ‘My lips are sealed.’

  ‘No, go on,’ I say. ‘How did you know it was Earl Grey?’

  ‘OK, I saw her in the supermarket the other day buying it when I was getting some.’ He gives us a goofy grin, laughs, and ducks out of the way as Lisa tries to slap his arm.

  As Ben heads off to clear some tables so he doesn’t get another slap, Lisa whispers to me, ‘When I was talking about Ben’s attributes earlier, I missed out that he’s also good fun.’

  I watch him and smile, because Lisa’s right. I thought being a counsellor, he’d be quite sensible and serious, and he is when he needs to be. So I’m a little surprised that the more I get to know him, the more I realize he’s someone with a fun sense of humour who can also make me laugh. No man’s done that in a long time.

  A ripple of excitement unfolds through me at the thought of spending a whole evening with him away from work.

  Chapter Thirty

  Ben

  At 7.30 p.m., I ring Grace’s doorbell, feeling nervous. I don’t want to stuff this up like I’ve stuffed up so much in my life.

  It’s just a drink, that’s all!

  Even though I’ve been telling myself that constantly, it means more to me than just a drink.

  She opens the door, and the first thing I notice is she’s had her hair done. Golden highlights weave through the auburn, and it’s been layered so it bounces and shimmers as she moves. She’s wearing faded tight jeans, high heel black boots, and an emerald green top with a scoop neck that brings out the colour of her eyes. Minimal makeup. She smells of her signature vanilla scent.

  She’s so breathtakingly gorgeous I’m lost for words for a few seconds, and I just stand there, staring at her like an idiot.

  ‘You’ve had your hair cut,’ I blurt out the obvious.

  She touches her hair. ‘Yep. That’s the caring thing I’ve done for myself today. It’s been a long time, and I needed a good trim.’

  ‘It looks great.’ Maybe that sounds like it didn’t look great before, so I add, ‘Not that it doesn’t always look great. Actually, you look gorgeous.’

  She blushes, her gaze running down my jeans and dark purple shirt. ‘Thanks. You look…great, too.’

  She locks the door, and we walk through the warm night down the high street. The promise of summer is on the verge of rolling in, and neither of us has a jacket.

  ‘Where do you want to go?’ I ask.

  ‘There’s a pub with a beer garden by the river that’s supposed to be nice and quiet,’ she says. ‘We could go there?’

  Honestly, I don’t care where the hell we go as long as I’m with her.

  My hands fidget at my side. I want to slide my fingers through hers as we walk, but I don’t. What if she’s not feeling the same things as me? I want her to be completely secure with me, and that means she has to make the first move, if it ever happens.

  I’ll wait as long as it takes.

  We order drinks and sit in the beer garden at a secluded table in the back overlooking the river. She faces the door and scans the crowd, her eyes deep in concentration, making sure that bastard isn’t here.

  Satisfied he’s not, she straddles the backless wooden bench and turns to me.

  ‘So…’ I trail off, completely lost for words as I think of something clever to say.

  Yeah, your conversation is really scintillating, you idiot! You can barely string a sentence together. Think of something to say!

  I’m not used to this. I don’t get close to people. I have no idea what I’m doing. All I know is that with Grace, it’s different. I’ve never felt like this with anyone before, it’s completely alien to me, and a voice in the back of head tells me I shouldn’t.

  I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve to be happy.

  But I want to be. And she makes me happy.

  ‘Have you been here before?’ I say, and almost kick myself because it’s such a pathetic line.

  What’s wrong with me?

  ‘No. In fact, I haven’t been out socializing anywhere for a long time.’

  ‘Me, neither. Maybe we should raise a toast to having fun.’ I reach out my bottle of beer to her glass of wine.

  ‘Fun. Yes, I like the sound of that.’ She touches her glass to the bottle.

  I take a sip of beer to give me more time. ‘The new self-defence course starts tomorrow morning. Do you still wa
nt to do it?’

  ‘Absolutely. Where and when?’

  ‘At the gym we’ve been going to. Ten a.m.’

  ‘I’ll be there.’ She sips her white wine, looking at me over the rim of it. ‘I think it’s really nice of you to volunteer to teach it.’

  I can’t speak because I don’t want another lie to come out of my mouth, so I just nod.

  ‘How did you get into teaching it? Because of the MMA training?’

  ‘Yeah, Mixed Martial Arts gives you a background for all kinds of defensive moves. When I was younger, I was the BAMMA British Middleweight champion a couple of times over.’

  ‘Wow, that’s fantastic.’ Her eyes light up.

  I shrug as if it’s nothing, because it is nothing now. That part of my life is long gone. ‘I was always into sports when I was a kid. I started doing Judo then moved onto jiu-jitsu, then boxing, and Thai boxing, so, that’s how I can teach self-defence. And passing on what I know to women is more rewarding than winning a belt. It might help save someone’s life one day.’

  ‘Well, I think it’s great.’

  I take another long sip of beer to hide the smile of pride I feel at her words.

  ‘You don’t like to talk about yourself much, do you?’ she asks. ‘Which is weird. Theo loved to talk about himself all the time. It was his favourite subject.’

  ‘Maybe it’s because of my job.’ I glance at the floor before flicking my gaze back up to hers. ‘I let other people talk.’

  ‘So…talking of fun, what do you do when you’re not teaching or counselling or at the coffee shop? What do you usually do for fun?’ She tilts her head, and her hair cascades over her shoulders. I want to run my fingers through it.

  ‘You promise you won’t laugh?’

  She makes a cross over her heart with her finger. ‘Promise.’

  ‘I read. Autobiographies and psychology books, mostly. And I watch documentaries. Sounds pretty boring, doesn’t it? I’m a nerd.’ I don’t tell her I sit and think about that night all the time, too. Going over and over in my head how differently things could’ve turned out.

  ‘Well, you don’t look anything like the nerds I went to school with.’ She looks me up and down, and the warmth of her gaze sears my skin.