Christmas in July

by Debbie Mason

  Grace gave a panicked shake of her head. “I didn’t enter the race. I mean, that’s very sweet of all of you to sponsor me, but I can’t…”

  “Sure you can,” Nell said. “Skye already signed you up. Better get training. Course isn’t an easy one and you don’t want that Maria gal to beat you. Saw her out running the other morning, and she looked to be in pretty good shape.”

  Grace ignored Nell’s comment about Maria and shot Skye an exasperated look. “You entered me in the race?”

  “Yeah, both of us.” She slid another piece of paper in front of Grace and fluttered her long lashes. “Sponsor me?”

  “I’ll sponsor you, but I can’t enter the race. I’m not in good shape and”—she lowered her voice—“I can’t swim.”

  “Holly, Hailey, and Sophia, you guys should sign up, too,” Madison said as she sorted through her papers.

  “What about me, Stella, and Evelyn? How come you’re not telling us to enter? Do you think we’re too old?”

  “Uh, no, but don’t you think…” Madison trailed off when the three older women put their heads together to talk among themselves.

  “That’s settled. We’re signing up,” Nell said after their brief powwow.

  “Remind me to see if we can get an extra EMT in for the day,” Madison murmured to Grace.

  She held back a smile and nodded. If not for the swimming part of the race, now that Nell, Mrs. Tate, and Mrs. Wright were entering, Grace might have considered taking part. At least she wouldn’t come in last. She felt bad that her inability to push past her fears would result in The Home Front Cares losing out on the funds. Although she probably could convince everyone to sponsor Jack instead. If he wasn’t in jail by then. She squashed the thought. He was innocent. And if she couldn’t prove it, surely Gage and Jill would.

  Skye glanced at the top of her head and leaned closer. “You’ve gotta do it. The exercise will help get rid of your tension. You need to loosen up.”

  “You think I’m uptight?”

  Skye’s eyes danced with amusement. “Sweetie, you’re beyond uptight.”

  Of course she was. She didn’t need Skye to tell her that. Last night Jack had vanquished the majority of Grace’s worries, but her fear he might be charged with arson brought a new level of crazy to her life. And despite his reassurances, she couldn’t help but think if she kept it up, she’d drive him crazy, too. Maria wasn’t uptight. Possibly a pyromaniac, but she was also fun, adventurous, and exciting. And Maria was entering the race.

  “Okay, I’ll do it,” Grace said in a competitive fit, instantly regretting doing so at the thought she’d have to get in the water.

  “So will the three of us,” Holly announced. “And we’ll sign up Brandi and Autumn.”

  “Okay, ladies, now that that’s settled, let’s get on with tonight’s agenda,” Madison said.

  “Hey, sorry,” Jill said, hurrying into the room. “Ray just called to ask me to take his place.” She cast Grace an apologetic smile.

  Maria and Jack were working on the book again tonight. He’d invited Jill to join them. Most likely for Grace’s benefit, even though he didn’t say so. Despite Grace doing her best to keep the green-eyed monster at bay, every so often it reared its ugly head. Grace no longer voiced her concerns to Jack, but obviously, he knew she still had an issue with Maria.

  So while Jill’s smile was welcome, her news that Jack and Maria were without a chaperone wasn’t. A toddler didn’t count. Grace ignored the nervous flutter in her stomach. She trusted Jack.

  Her cell pinged, and she surreptitiously checked her message as Madison called the meeting to order. Jack had sent her a photo of his masculine hand. He was wearing his wedding ring.

  The image blurred, and she sniffed, wondering how she’d gotten so lucky. It made her more determined than ever to be the woman he deserved.

  “What’s wrong?” Skye asked, tugging Grace’s hand from under the table, smiling when she saw the picture. “Aw.”

  Of course Skye’s reaction drew everyone’s attention, and they wanted to see the reason for it. Before Grace could stop her, Skye stole her phone, and her cell made its way around the table.

  “You’re such a sap,” Jill said, but like everyone else, she had a smile on her face.

  * * *

  By the time the meeting adjourned two hours later, Grace was anxious to get home. Despite her best intentions, she was once again battling her insecurities. It had started about an hour ago when talk turned to the triathlon, and Hailey and Nell debated the likelihood of any of the women beating Maria in the race, or at anything else.

  As Grace rose from her chair to collect her belongings, Jill came over. “That’s great that your dad was able to get permission for Jack to be presented with the medal on the Fourth,” she said, handing Grace her notes.

  “Thanks.” She smiled, tucking the notepad into her purse. “You know my dad. He’s good at pulling strings.”

  Jill shifted from one foot to the other, then cleared her throat. “I probably should’ve told you this yesterday, but, uh, I’m sorry for being such a bitch. I should’ve had your back when Maria came to town.” She looked away, then returned her gaze to Grace. “I wasn’t sure you loved him anymore. I should’ve known better.”

  “Yes, you should have. But honestly, your brother deserves a medal for putting up with me this last while.”

  “How so?”

  “He’s had to deal with my raging insecurity over Maria. I overreact to everything where she’s involved.” As she said the words, Grace wondered if her insecurities were behind her suspicions about the fire. But she couldn’t get the look on Maria’s face the night of the fire out of her mind.

  “Don’t beat yourself up. Maria…” She shrugged. “She’s using Jack as a crutch. She needs help. And now that Jack’s back home with you, where he belongs, maybe she’ll realize it’s time to move on and open up to Dr. Trainer.”

  Madison motioned for Jill. “I need to talk to you about extra EMTs for the triathlon.”

  Jill nodded, then grinned at Grace. “If you need any help with your training, let me know. I’ll whip you…”

  “Didn’t know you were into the kink, Jill. That Christian Grey fella, he uses one, too,” Nell said as she walked by.

  Grace and Jill stared after the older woman. With a slight shake of her head as if to clear it, Jill finished what she’d been about to say. “… into shape in no time.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t know why I agreed to enter.” Of course she did. It all went back to her issues with Maria. And after what Jill just said, Grace wondered how deeply affected Maria had been by her experiences in Afghanistan. And how far she would go to keep the man who’d saved her in her life.

  “Don’t chicken out now. The training would be a good way to help you alleviate the crazies, keep you calm until we can get Maria out of town.”

  Getting rid of both the crazies and Maria sounded like a good plan. “I’ll think about it.”

  “I’ll get you on a program starting tomorrow.” Jill put an arm around her. “It’ll be good to hang out again. I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, but I can think of better ways to hang out together,” Grace said. It was hard to sound grumpy about it when she’d gotten her best friend back.

  Madison’s gaze went from Jill to Grace, and she smiled. “Nice to see you two are friends again.” She tugged a folder from her briefcase. “Before I forget, here’s Vivi’s revised manuscript.”

  Taking the folder and putting it in her purse, Grace asked Madison, “How is it?”

  “Prince Charming’s death wasn’t quite as gruesome as in the last one, but he still meets an unhappy ending courtesy of the Sugar Plum Cake Fairy.”

  “I killed my Prince Charming?” Skye said.

  “Umm, you know you’re not really the Cake Fairy, don’t you?” Madison asked, a hint of the South creeping into her voice.

  “I sort of am.”

  “Rig
ht.” Madison rubbed her brow. “And we need someone else to work on the costume. Mrs. O’Connor won’t be back in time.”

  Madison rolled her eyes when Skye did a happy dance, then looked at Nell. “Do you think you could make the costume?”

  “Oh no,” Mrs. Tate said. “Nell’s much too busy working on her book.”

  “Good Lord, is everyone writing a book?” Madison said, then her eyes widened. “Please tell me you’re not writing a Fifty Shades for the geriatric population.”

  “FYI, girlie, we’re not geriatrics, and…”

  “No,” Mrs. Wright interrupted. “She’s writing a book about you and Gage. She’s got a title and everything. It’s called The Trouble with Christmas. Don’t you just love it?”

  “What?” Madison exploded.

  Skye, struggling not to laugh, motioned to Grace. Let’s go, she mouthed. They quickly said their good-byes and left.

  “Do you think we should call Gage? Madison looked like she might have a coronary,” Grace said as they exited the building.

  Skye held up her phone. “Already texted him. I would’ve stuck around for the fun, but you looked like you were antsy to get out of there.”

  Grace sighed. “I didn’t think it was obvious.”

  “Maria working with Jack on the book again?” Skye asked as they stepped into the warm night air.

  “Yes, and I’m trying not to come off as the insanely jealous wife who runs home to check on them.”

  “So don’t. It’s the perfect opportunity to get the goods on her. We’ll go to her room at the lodge and see if we can find anything incriminating.”

  “You mean like break into her room?”

  “Sort of, I guess. It’s not like it’s a house or anything. Maids go in and out of hotel rooms all the time. If it makes you feel better, we’ll tidy up while we’re there.”

  “I don’t know, Skye. If Jack found out, he’d kill me.” And honestly, the idea of breaking the law terrified Grace. She was a good girl. Always had been. At times she wished she wasn’t. The bad girls seemed to have all the fun. But this wasn’t one of those times.

  “No one’s going to find out. And you heard Nell. We have to find something pronto or they’ll be coming after Jack.”

  Skye’s remark reinforced Grace’s own fears, and she said, “Okay, but we have to hurry.”

  “You have wheels?” When Grace said she didn’t, Skye gave her a once-over, taking in her lavender ballet slippers, black capri pants, and purple sleeveless blouse. “Good a time as any to start your training, I guess. Come on.” Skye waved her arm and took off down the sidewalk in her sandals and a tie-dyed pink tunic and Daisy Duke shorts.

  When she finally caught up with Skye in the lodge’s parking lot, Grace doubled over, hands on her thighs. “I think I’m going to pass out,” she wheezed.

  “Look on the bright side—if you train every day, you should be able to beat Mrs. Tate.” Skye grinned, then her expression grew serious as she contemplated the rustic wooden motel. “Someone might recognize you, so hide behind that tree,” Skye said, pointing to the twenty-foot blue spruce in the center court.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Find out which room is Maria’s.”

  “You can’t just walk in and ask someone at the front desk. They’ll—”

  “I might be blonde, but I’m not stupid. Leave this to me,” Skye said and darted across the parking lot. Grace bowed her head when Skye started peeking in windows. Skye was wrong. Grace was blonde, too, and this was really, really stupid. She was about to call out to Skye when the other woman knocked on a door. A big man in his undershirt and striped boxers answered with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in his hand. He gave Skye a lopsided grin, nodded, and pointed to a room down from his. Once he closed the door, Skye discreetly waved Grace over.

  “You’re the lookout,” Skye said, pulling a pink Swiss army knife from the back pocket of her shorts. Grace slumped against the building, her knees weak with nerves. After working on the lock for several excruciatingly slow minutes, Skye said, “I can’t do it.” She rose from her crouched position and peeked in the window.

  Relief swamped Grace. “We tried. We’ll just—”

  “No, come on. I’ve got an idea,” she said, latching on to Grace’s hand.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the back of the building. There’s a patio door,” she said, running along the walkway, dragging Grace after her. “I’m sure I can get it open.”

  “Skye, I’ve got a bad feeling about this. I don’t—”

  “Jack in an orange jumpsuit. That’s all I’m going to say.”

  “Okay, okay. Let’s do this.”

  A spotlight over the inground pool illuminated the back of the lodge. Skye flattened herself against the building and gestured for Grace to do the same.

  “This is the one,” Skye whispered when they reached the only obviously empty room in the row. Putting the knife between her teeth, Skye tried the patio door. She gave Grace a triumphant thumbs-up when the door slid open. Grace didn’t know whether she was happy or disappointed at their easy access. They crept into the darkened room. Grace knew it was the right one. She could smell Maria’s vanilla perfume.

  “You start going through her garbage and desk. I’ll take the dresser and closet,” Skye said, turning on a lamp.

  Ten minutes later, Grace said, “I can’t find anything other than papers and files related to her book. How about—” Her eyes widened at the sound of a key in the door. The lamp clicked off. “Skye,” Grace called out in a panicked whisper. “Where are you? We have to get—” As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she made out Skye flattened against the wall beside the door, a bottle raised over her head and a finger pressed to her lips.

  The door opened. Three figures dressed from head to toe in black crept into the room. “Skye, no!” Grace shouted, but it was too late.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Her white jean–clad hip resting against the table, Maria surveyed the kitchen. “I can’t believe your wife actually left us on our own and hasn’t called to check on us.”

  “Why would she?” Jack asked as he poured her a coffee.

  “Oh, come on, it’s pretty obvious she doesn’t trust you alone with me. My God, Jack, the woman is so desperate to get me out of town, she and her friends are trying to frame me for arson.”

  “She was upset the night of the fire, and her friends are protective of her. They won’t be bothering you anymore.” He thumbed his wedding band. “And if she didn’t trust me, she’d be here now.” Since Grace hadn’t come home early, he figured the photo had done the trick, and he better get used to wearing the ring. Fine by him if it helped her feel more secure.

  “Thanks,” Maria said when he handed her the cup. The smile she’d given him faltered, and her face fell. “You’re wearing your wedding ring.” Her dark eyes searched his. “Why?”

  “Because I’m married,” he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

  “But you’re separated. You don’t even live together.”

  “I moved back in last night. And no matter how it might’ve looked, we were never separated.”

  She followed him into the living room. “Come on, Jack, open your eyes. I’m the reason she took you back. Even if she doesn’t want you, she can’t stand the thought of you with someone else.”

  “Look, I get that with what happened between us, this isn’t easy for you,” he said as he took a seat on the couch. “But I don’t know how to make it any clearer. I love my wife, and she loves me. And I never doubted that for one second. Have we had some problems? Sure. But that’s not surprising since I’ve been gone for almost two years.”

  “I don’t know the man you used to be, but the man I know could never be happy with her.” Her lip curled and she flung out her hand. “This isn’t you, all perfect and… beige. How can you live like this? She’s a Stepford wife. What are you going to do, Jack, stay in this shitty little town where you can’t ma
ke a move without everyone talking about it? It was bad enough they were trying to frame me for the fire—now I hear they’re looking at you.”

  He let her comments about Grace slide. It was useless to argue with the woman. As to suspicions being cast in his direction, he’d heard the same thing. Conversations ended abruptly when he walked into the diner or Penalty Box, but not soon enough that he didn’t catch references to his misspent youth. But he wasn’t about to share his frustration with Maria. “Being held prisoner for seventeen months kind of changes your perspective on things. You should know that as well as I do.”

  She ran the tip of her tongue over her teeth, then nodded. “Time will tell,” she murmured, setting her cup of coffee on the table to pick up the hard copy of the manuscript.

  Her reaction, or lack thereof, surprised him. Maria wasn’t the type of woman who gave up easily.

  Twenty minutes later, as they discussed the best way to lay out the last chapters, he realized she hadn’t. She’d regrouped and come at the problem from another angle. Good strategy, if he didn’t see through her.

  She moved closer, her breasts pressed to his arm as she pointed to the end of the page. “I don’t know if you want me to keep this part in. It might be hard for your wife to read.”

  “I have nothing to hide, but this”—he tapped the printed page with his finger—“doesn’t add anything to the story.”

  “I disagree. All of our relationships, Josh, Quinn, and Holden’s included, are what readers care about.”

  “All right. Whatever. Keep it in.”

  She turned to another page. “This would probably be more difficult for her to read.”

  He scanned the page, then lifted his eyes to hers. “You’re not writing a romance. This is totally over-the-top, not to mention untrue.”

  “That’s how I remember it.”

  “Bullshit.” He tossed the chapter on the coffee table and stood up. “If you leave that in the book, I’m done.” She’d included the night when they’d almost made love. Only she’d written it as if they had, and she’d written it in graphic detail. She’d also had him telling her he loved her, which he hadn’t, and them making plans for their future. Again, a blatant lie.