A Second Chance House

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A Second Chance House Page 17

by Stacey Wilk


  Blaise put down the guitar and finished his sandwich before he started on the fried chicken. He held a piece out to her, but she shook her head. “Now, Miss Grace, it is impolite to turn down the kindness of others. Here in Heritage River we say please and thank you. Then when I’m not looking, you can discreetly toss my food in the trash.”

  “I like when you turn up your southern accent.” Heat filled her cheeks again, and she busied herself with cleaning up their dinner. She barely knew this man, and she was feeling things she didn’t think she’d ever felt in her life.

  He stilled her hands, and their gazes met. “I like your accent too.” He was so close she could smell his clean scent.

  Grace licked her lips because her mouth had gone dry. His gaze dipped to watch.

  She pulled back, giving herself some space to breathe and think for a moment. Her heart clamored in her chest. She wanted to know what his lips felt like against hers—and she wanted to run for the hills. If she fell for a man like Blaise, how would she ever know if his feelings for her were true? He’d been with so many women. How many times can it be the real thing?

  He took her cue and leaned back. “Would you like to take a walk?”

  “That’s a good idea.” She might feel better if they were moving.

  He led her around the lake on a dirt path made by years of others taking walks and riding bikes. “You never did tell me where you were coming from when you ran out of gas.” He shoved his good hand in his pocket.

  The sun dipped behind the houses. The sky bled orange and gold. Clouds rolled in, kicking up a breeze that cooled her warm skin. Did she tell him the truth and risk it all? Would he tell on her? “I went to visit Nancy Templeton in an assisted living today.” There. It was out.

  “Why did you do that?”

  She could lie. “I want to know who she sold my house to. I want to know who my giver is.”

  “This again?” He stopped and turned to her. “Grace, who cares who gave you that house? They did. It’s legit. Move forward.”

  “I can’t.” Not yet anyway. What if this gift giver was an uncle or a cousin she didn’t know about? She wanted a family, and this might be a chance to find one. A relative for Chloe. Didn’t her daughter deserve to be a part of a family larger than just her parents and a new sibling she wouldn’t be able to relate to for years? “You don’t understand. I have no one except my daughter. I don’t have siblings like you. You probably grew up with both your parents who were supportive of your dreams. Maybe if I can find the person Nancy sold to, I can find a piece of my history I didn’t know existed.”

  “My mother passed away when I was young. She didn’t get a chance to be supportive of my dreams. As for my father, he tried to talk us out of a life filled with rock and roll. I guess it was a good thing we didn’t listen. Well, Colton didn’t listen. If it wasn’t for Colton, I’d probably be an accountant or something.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.” She’d assumed he’d had parents rooting for him. In a way, they had something in common.

  “It’s okay. You wouldn’t know. If finding this gift giver means so much to you, I’ll help you figure it out.”

  She squinted at him. “You would? Why?”

  He held up his bandaged hand. “The garden isn’t working out too well. I need something to fill my time until we go back on tour.”

  He would be leaving. It wasn’t safe to trust him. That little voice in her head screamed at her to stay away. This man would only break her heart if she let him anywhere near it.

  “I’m not supposed to find out who bought the house for me. If I do or even try, I lose the house all together, and then I won’t have anywhere to live. I’m hoping to sell this house and move back to Jersey and buy a new one.”

  “There’s something in New Jersey waiting for you?”

  “Well, my old life, I guess.” Would her old life still fit her?

  “Then why not fix up the house and live here in Heritage River?” He started walking again, and she fell into step with him.

  Their feet kicked up dirt as they moved, but she didn’t care about the dirt. At least for the moment. “I don’t know anyone here. I couldn’t even find the twenty-four-hour pharmacy last night.”

  “You know me and Cash. You know Beau and Dixie. You’ve met my sister, and you’re helping out with the library fundraiser. I’d say you were starting to fit in just fine.”

  “You just said you would be leaving to go on tour. I’m sure your sister is very busy with her own life, and Beau isn’t exactly warm and fuzzy. Staying isn’t the plan.”

  Showing Larry she didn’t need him—that was part of the plan. The plan included proving everyone wrong who told her renovating a house in a strange town by herself was a mistake. The library, Blaise, and all the rest didn’t factor in. It couldn’t.

  They returned to the blanket. The sun had dipped farther, and the deep gray of nightfall spread across the top of the lake. Lights came on in some of the houses. Fireflies ducked and chased through the air.

  “It’s getting late.” Grace rubbed at her arms.

  Blaise settled down and dug out the cookies. He handed her one. “What’s the rush? The kids aren’t waiting for us. They’re probably glad we aren’t home. Besides, the night is young.”

  Even if she wasn’t. She handed back the cookie. “No, thank you.”

  He stood to face her. He was inches away, and she could feel the heat rolling off him. She wanted to step back, but he took her hands in his, keeping her in place. “Am I making you nervous?” His voice was low and husky.

  She bit at her lip and kept her gaze glued to the collar of his shirt. She could see the soft spot of skin between his collarbones. What did it taste like? The thought startled her, and she snapped her head up to meet his eyes. Dear Lord, I’m worse than a teenager. He smiled down at her, and her belly moved to its own beat. The beat he played out on her wrists.

  “Yes, you’re making me a little nervous. I…I…didn’t realize…we were on a, uh, you know.”

  “Do you mean a date, Grace? You didn’t realize I asked you out on a date? What did you think this was?” His gray eyes twinkled, and the dimple in his cheek was full. He was teasing her again. And she liked it. Dear Lord, she liked it.

  “I don’t know. Just a way of saying ‘thank you’ for helping out with Cash. I mean, the kids were supposed to come along. They wouldn’t be if this was a date.” She nearly choked on the last word. How could she, Grace Starr, be on a date with a rock star, albeit a fading star, but bright enough? A handsome man who must’ve seen the inside of a million bedrooms in his heyday. She swallowed hard. What did this man see in her? Boring, no fun, predictable Grace.

  “If you’d like to end our date now, I’ll take you home.”

  He let her hands go, and his absence chilled her immediately. She laced her fingers together to keep from reaching back out for him. She didn’t want things to end. She kind of liked feeling on the edge of something—daring and alive. The precariousness of her emotions made her giggle inside. “It might be best.”

  Blaise packed up the picnic without another word. He opened the truck door for her to slide in, dumped the basket and guitar in the bed, and slid in from the other side. He turned on the radio to the classical station and let the music fill the space between them.

  He pulled into his driveway and turned the truck off. Her house was dark. His front porch light was on. “I’ll make some calls tomorrow and see if I can find anything out about who Nancy sold to,” he said.

  “No one can know what you’re up to.”

  “I’ve got it covered.” He pushed himself out of the truck and met her before she had the door all the way open. “Can I walk you to your door? It’s pretty dark over there.”

  He followed behind her with his hand on the small of her back. The tiny gesture spread heat through her body. At the door she turned to face him. The darkness offered a shield. “Thank you for a very nice night. The lake was beaut
iful.”

  “So is the woman.” He lifted her chin with his strong fingers. His intense stare sent shivers over her skin. When was the last time someone called her beautiful?

  He closed the distance between them, and her first instinct was to run inside into the safety of the house. The smile on his face eased the dancing in her belly, allowing her to close her eyes and wait for the feel of his lips against hers. She hoped her knees wouldn’t give out. Did she remember how to kiss someone? How would she compare to the other women?

  A car horn blasted the night wide open. Blaise yanked back. Grace jumped. An engine revved, and the low bass thumping of music made its way into his driveway. A shiny pickup skidded to a halt behind his truck, and a man hopped out.

  Blaise stepped back further from her. “Colton.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  At best, families were challenging. At worst, they were dangerous. Having Colton Savage for an older brother was challenging on the best days. Still Blaise loved his brother. Which was why he had no problem setting up the guest room for his indefinite stay. He had been able to put up with the years of Colton running the band as if he were a dictator. From the very first backyard party they played, Colton decided where the band would be seen, which interviews they did, when the gigs would happen, and even how much they got paid. As the band’s popularity took off, Colton decided they wouldn’t play other bands’ music. They would play the music Colton wrote.

  Colton was a smart businessman and a genius on the guitar, and Blaise had benefited from his brother’s dictatorship. He was tired of being bossed around, though. A man his age should certainly be able to make his own career decisions. He had his own creative needs to fill. He couldn’t walk away from the band. He needed the tour, and even though Colton would never say it out loud, he needed Blaise too. There wasn’t a drummer out there who could copy Blaise’s beats—and no one dumb enough to sit behind Colton’s gigantic ego.

  Blaise did have a major problem with his big brother, one that could affect how long he stayed at Blaise’s. Colton’s interest in Grace.

  “You have to share the bathroom with Cash.” Blaise tossed the extra pillows at him. “And next time don’t drive down the street making all that noise. You’ll scare the neighbors. I don’t need the sheriff knocking on my door.”

  “I was trying to stop you from making a big mistake.”

  He’d seen. Blaise was worried about that. “Don’t worry about my mistakes. Worry about your own.” Colton had definitely made his share. A battlefield of scorned women was left around the world, thanks to Colton. He’d even broken the heart of his high school sweetheart, Harley. “I’m going to bed.”

  “I thought you were done getting involved with women? Too complicated, you said.”

  Blaise leaned against the doorframe. “She isn’t staying. Once her house is done, she’s moving back to New Jersey.”

  “So she’s safe, then.”

  “I’m not looking to get involved with anyone. She helped me the other day. I was just taking her to dinner to thank her.”

  “Looked liked more than that from where I was sitting.”

  “Yeah, well, you were sitting on your brains, so what the hell do you know?”

  “You were always in love with the idea of love.”

  Blaise pushed off the wall. “Who said anything about love? You’re an ass. Good night.” He marched into the hallway.

  “So you won’t care, then, if I ask her out?” Colton called after him.

  ****

  Blaise woke to the sound of banging and someone yelling. The sun was already making its way into the sky and bringing with it a trunkful of heat. His wrist hurt from lying on it all night. He tore off the brace and rubbed the skin.

  He dragged himself into the kitchen for a strong cup of coffee. He went to the window and pulled back the curtain. Beau stood on Grace’s porch, barking orders. Cash and Jud balanced debris down the steps and tossed them into the almost-full dumpster. Colton came out of the house holding what looked like house plans. He wore a tool belt around his waist.

  “That bastard.” Blaise threw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt he grabbed off the floor. He grabbed the coffee in case he needed something to hit Colton with and marched across the lawn to the construction.

  Beau met him halfway. “’Morning, Blaise.”

  “Beau.” He sipped the coffee just to have something to do. “Looks like you keep adding to your crew.” Blaise hated to admit it, but Colton was good with his hands. That should be obvious with all the guitar playing, but he could build anything. Colton was like their dad that way. Blaise never took much of an interest. He was sorry now. And there was the little problem of his hand.

  “The ladies are fine for demolishing things, but I need some experience to put it back together again. Cash is a quick learner. Not so sure about your nephew. He’s too busy trying to flex his muscles for Miss Grace’s daughter. I spent half the day yesterday swatting him away. I was about to call in some favors, but Colton showed up this morning. I put him right to work. The boy hasn’t forgotten a thing.”

  When they were kids, Colton had spent summers working with Beau to make extra money to buy guitars and pedal boards. Blaise preferred cutting grass and planting bushes. He even spent a summer painting houses. But he never built anything except his drum kits.

  “Are you going to retire after this?” Blaise tried to do the math quickly. Beau had to be near eighty by now.

  “That’s the plan. Jud, knock it off.” Beau marched away, swinging his hand in the air.

  There wasn’t a place for him there, but he refused to leave. He’d be underfoot if he went inside, but he wanted to know what Grace was up to. More importantly, he wanted to know what his brother was up to.

  A car swung in and parked at the curb. He headed over to the driver’s door. “What are you doing here?” He held the door open for his sister.

  Savannah pushed her way out of the car. “Well, rumor has it my big brother is in town. I wanted to see for myself, and I needed Grace’s help with some fundraiser stuff. I know she’s busy with the house, so I thought I’d stop by. What are you up to? How’s the hand?” She yanked a large tote out of the back seat and slung it over her shoulder.

  “Healing, I guess. Colton has strapped on his hammer. He’s helping out with the renovation.”

  “Are you kidding me? I ask that man to play a few lousy songs at my fundraiser and he says no, but Beau asks him to break a sweat and he can’t say yes fast enough? Colton Thomas.” She shouted from her spot on the curb.

  “Someone is shouting my name as if they’re my mother, and I know my mother can’t be here because she’s been gone for many years.” Colton laughed from an open window. “That leaves only one person. I’m still not playing at your fundraiser.”

  “He makes me so mad sometimes.” Savannah banged her legs with her clenched fists.

  “No kidding.” Blaise took another sip of his coffee.

  She shifted her bag on her shoulder and marched up the front walk. “I don’t want you at my fundraiser, you egomaniacal oaf. I have the brother I really like already playing.”

  Colton met Savannah at the door, scooped her in his arms, and twirled her around. She yelled something about still being mad at him and pounded his shoulders, but by the time he put her down, they were hugging. She never could stay mad at him.

  Where was Grace? Was Colton wielding his charms on her too? Blaise wished he had kissed her, but he’d tried to be a gentleman last night and not rush her. If the red blotches on her neck and cheeks were any indication, she was more than a little nervous with him, and he didn’t want to seem like an overeager teenager. Since he usually jumped first and asked questions later, it took a lot of restraint to keep from tasting her lips. He could still feel the softness of her skin against his rough hands and smell her scent of vanilla and cinnamon. He wanted to drink that scent in, to taste it on her skin, but he hesitated, and now his brother was playing construction
man on her house.

  His coffee tasted bitter. He dumped the rest on the lawn. He waved to Cash who was dragging large pieces of Sheetrock down the steps. His wave was met with a slight nod and a scowl. Now what? Was Cash mad at him? Or mad at Jud? Or Beau? Just when Blaise started to get a grip on having a seventeen-almost-eighteen-year-old son, the chords changed and no one warned him. Colton bounded down the steps, helped Cash with the plaster, and then showed him the plans. Blaise couldn’t hear what they were saying over the banging that had begun again, but the smile grew on Cash’s face while Colton spoke. His insides heated up like the summer day. When was he going to stop being jealous of his brother?

  He marched past them into the house. Grace had to be somewhere. The house’s layout was the flip of his. Her front room was empty except for dust on the floors and spackle on the walls. The kitchen sat to the right and through the dining room. The kitchen walls were new. Jud covered seams with spackle. He wore as much as he scraped on the walls. Blaise could help with that. He had one good hand. Beau was going to need more help, or they’d be here until Christmas finishing this house. Not that he’d mind having Grace around until then.

  “Morning, Jud.”

  “Hey, Uncle Blaise.”

  The hall bathroom was down to the studs. Beau sat on the floor rerouting the plumbing. “Blaise, hand me that wrench, would you?”

  Blaise did as he was told. “You need any other help?” He looked over his shoulder for Grace, hoping for a reason to stay.

  “I’ll let you know if I do.”

  “If you want, I can handle a little spackle.”

 

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