A Risk Worth Taking

by Melissa Klein

  After taking him in and finding nothing wanting, her attention turned to the slender blond across from him. Wearing an ivory suit with her hair pulled back in a tidy bun, the woman seemed to be working with Grant on some type of project. Abby tried to place the woman, ticking through the dozens she’d met at Katie’s numerous bridal showers but came up blank.

  “Look who’s here,” Katie announced.

  The woman leapt gracefully from the table and enfolded Katie in a hug. “How’s married life?”

  “Heather, it’s wonderful,” Katie enthused. “You should try it again.”

  “Fat chance.”

  Katie drew Abby closer to her side. “This is my mother-in-law, Abby.”

  Heather’s eyes widened. “Nice to meet you,” she said, extending a hand. “I’ve heard your name quite a lot lately.”

  It was Abby’s turn for a wide-eyed reaction, but Katie quickly provided the context under which Abby had been the topic of conversation. “Since you teach children with special needs, I thought you wouldn’t mind letting Grant and Heather pick your brain.”

  Heather patted Abby on the arm, the woman’s flawless features forming a kind smile. “But we don’t want to keep you from the party if you’d rather not talk business.”

  Feeling immediately at ease with the woman, Abby quickly responded, “No, believe me. I don’t think I’m missing anything.”

  “Then sit,” Grant instructed and pulled out a chair for her to sit.

  Katie patted Abby on the shoulder. “My work here is done. I better get back to the party.”

  “What can I do to help?” Abby asked.

  Grant handed her a folded piece of paper. A collage of photos featuring families in different home and recreational settings filled the brochure. “Heather and I started the Help and Hope Foundation after our daughter Grace was diagnosed with autism.” He shot a glance toward Heather. “Our goal is to help other families facing the same struggles as us.”

  Abby’s gaze bounced between Heather and Grant, the proverbial light bulb going off. She knew from Katie some of this family’s history, about the divorce and Grace’s diagnosis. The apparent closeness of the former spouses caught her off guard. The comfortable way they finished each other’s sentences reminded her of Chris and herself.

  Turning her thoughts from the pair, she read the brochure. She’d heard of the foundation from some of her students’ parents without realizing she knew one of the founders. As she read the information, she learned Help and Hope provided support groups and respite care for parents in addition to providing funds for therapies insurance didn’t cover.

  Except at the wedding when his devotion to Katie had been evident, all Grant showed the world was a rich, charming man out for a good time. This new facet touched her soul. “That’s truly remarkable.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” Heather responded. “We like to have members from the community sit on the board of directors, and our education liaison resigned last week.” She smiled hopefully. “Would you consider taking a position?”

  “I’d love to…” Her gaze darted to Grant and her excitement ebbed just as quickly as it peaked. “But I can’t. I’m leaving the country at the end of May,” Abby said, using the reason easiest to explain. “I’ll be gone an entire year so cannot commit to anything.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  Just then, Heather’s phone announced a text. While the woman’s attention was diverted, Abby eyed Grant. His cobalt-blue eyes did things she was better off not thinking about.

  “That’s the sitter,” Heather announced, standing and gathering her coat. “Grace is having a hard time settling down for the night. I better go.”

  “I can handle it if you’d like,” Grant said.

  “No, you stay,” she said, waving off his offer. “See if you can sweet talk Abby into changing her mind.”

  As Heather left through the kitchen’s back door, Abby braced for the onslaught of charm.

  He shook his head as if he’d read her mind. “No spiel. But, would you at least think about taking the position?”

  Her gaze trailed across a pair of broad shoulder and up to his strong jaw. His blue eyes melted her resolve to do the sensible thing. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

  “Good,” he said, the corners of his generous mouth turning up.

  His smile made her want to agree to things other than charity work. Several seconds passed before she realized she was staring. “Do you have a picture of Grace?” she asked, needing the diversion.

  “Of course,” he answered, pulling his phone from his hip pocket.

  After a moment of flipping through several pictures of the little girl, she exclaimed, “My God, she’s beautiful.”

  “She definitely got her mother’s looks.”

  Abby expanded a snap of Grace sitting on a rocking horse. “I see you in there; she’s got your lips and chin.”

  He laughed. “Thankfully, she didn’t get my nose.”

  She shook her head. There wasn’t one thing about his looks that wasn’t practically perfect. “You have a nice nose. It suits your face.”

  He took the phone, stowing it in his pocket. His face grew serious as he turned his attention to her. “She’s my reason for getting up in the morning.”

  Such tenderness. “She’s a lucky little girl.”

  “I’m the lucky one, and while I’m not ready to say her autism is a blessing, it has made me a better man. It really got me to see just paying the bills isn’t what makes a good father. Being there for your kid is.”

  His honesty did more to disarm her than all his dimpled smiles. “What if I pitched in on the Board until I leave? That should give you time to get someone who can serve long-term.”

  His brow furrowed. “You sure you can do that with all that’s on your plate?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” Abby said. She reached for his hand. The strength she felt as he returned her squeeze did something warm and wonderful to her insides. She upturned his hand in hers slowly stroking his calloused palm.

  He tugged it away. “Sorry, my hands are a mess.”

  She stopped him before he could tuck them in his lap. Pulling them both toward her, she wove her fingers with his. “No, there’s something honest about them.”

  Grant’s eyes were heavy on her and he unwound one of his hands to trail lightly up her arm. When he cupped her cheek, she leaned into his touch, finding something alluring about a hard man with a soft spot for his family. Their lips touched for an instant before footsteps drove them apart.

  Jackson trotted into the room, making a beeline for the refrigerator. Then spying her, he detoured. “What are you doing in here?”

  Abby clenched her eyes to erase the vision of what he might have seen had his entry been more quiet.

  He tugged on her arm. “Come say hello to everyone downstairs.”

  She glanced up at Grant, for the first time reluctant to escape his presence. “I probably should go.”

  With a grin, Grant clasped Jackson’s shoulder. “I’ll bring her down in a few minutes. But, first I want to take your mom on the fifty cent tour.” Not giving Jackson a chance to argue, Grant motioned to her. “Come on. I’ll make sure we’re in the game room in time to watch the half-time show.”

  The instant Jackson disappeared, Grant pulled Abby into the tiny space off from the dining room.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, looking around at his mother’s hoard of silver and china. “This is the butler’s pantry.”

  “The tour has to start somewhere,” he answered. His arm snaked around Abby’s waist, craving another taste of her lips.

  She held him off by placing a palm on his chest. “This is a bad idea.”

  Her lips might be saying one thing, but the vein thrumming in neck told him otherwise. Grant tilted her chin and growled, “Seems like a very good idea to me. Besides, you want me, too.”

  She screwed her eyes closed and nodded. “Wanting’s not the problem.”

&
nbsp; “Then tell me why.”

  “Because…”

  She’d done something to her hair to make it straight and under the room’s light the golden color shimmered. He fingered a lock to know if it felt as silky as it looked.

  “I can’t think when you’re doing that,” she pleaded, turning away from him.

  He had to get her out of her head if they were ever going to get any farther than this torturous waltz they were doing. “That’s the point. You think way too much. What if, what if, what if.” He could practically hear the thoughts churning through her mind.

  Her whiskey-colored eyes had turned a deep brown. “Don’t you worry that you’d regret this?”

  “Never,” he shot back in an instant. “I only regret the things I haven’t done.” That list was plenty long enough. He never regretted the chances he’d taken, even when they didn’t turn out the way he wanted.

  Cupping the back of her head, he fused their mouths in a punishing kiss. The moan that escaped her only fueled his need. He parted her lips and slipped his tongue into her mouth. Grant tangled his tongue with hers, tasting a minty sweetness that did little to extinguish the building heat. Still, he pulled back. “Would you like me to tell you some of the things I regret not doing?”

  She ducked her chin. “If you like.”

  “I regret not doing this by the pool.” Gently, he palmed her breast. Soft, weighty, it fit perfectly in his hand. Then he traced the outline of her peaked nipple. “When the water made your dress cling to you. I could see these.”

  Seeing her eyelids flutter closed with pleasure, he grew bolder and crushed her body to his. “I regret letting you walk away from me in the hanger.”

  He wanted to roar with masculine satisfaction as she melted into him. Placing a light kiss on the apple of her cheek, Grant teased, “I should have done this when you were here last week.”

  “Oh yeah,” she answered, smiling up at him. “How would you have accomplished that? There were four other people in the room.”

  He kissed the other cheek. “What’s a friendly kiss between in-laws?”

  She shook her head. “You’re incorrigible,” she laughed, making it sound like the best compliment he’d ever received.

  “Without a doubt.” He brushed back her tresses, baring the slender column of ivory skin. “That neck of yours tempts me.” He nipped her just behind the ear before soothing the tender flesh with his tongue. “This is what I should have done when you were showing me your house.”

  They were both panting before he stopped. “No more regrets,” he murmured. Never. No matter how things turned out with her.

  Her body tensed as her breathing became more regular. “I must go. Jackson will be looking for me.”

  He brushed a thumb across her cheek. “I’ll make a brazen woman out of you yet.” In reality she’d already given him far more than he could have hoped.

  The corners of her mouth turned up. “I doubt that. Will you settle for one that’s easily persuaded by a handsome face? I’d still like to volunteer with Help and Hope, if you like.”

  “I haven’t run you off.”

  She ducked her chin. “I seem to do that a lot around you.”

  “Ms. Owen was heading up the family day picnic next month. She left all her information about corporate sponsors and things she’d purchased on a flash drive. I’ll come by Wednesday after work and drop it off.”

  “Okay,” she said, stepping out of his embrace. “Are you coming?”

  “You go ahead.” Yeah, he was going to have to hang out with the candlesticks and punch bowls for a few minutes while the tent in his pants went down. He watched her leave, hoping this wasn’t the only time he’d ever get to hold her.

  Chapter 9

  Abby braced the cell phone between her shoulder and ear, keeping her hands free so she could talk and dust at the same time. With Chris working in Charleston during the week, she was seriously behind on her “friend time.” She couldn’t remember the last time they’d gone five days without speaking.

  “How was your party?”

  She hadn’t come anywhere near a television during her time at Katherine’s. After Abby left the pantry, she’d been too flustered to pretend normalcy, so she’d quickly said her goodbyes and left. Her mind played over the reason she’d been too flustered to stay. Good God, the way Grant’s hands felt on her arms, her face, her breasts.

  “Abby, are you there?”

  And those soft as suede lips. “What?”

  “I asked about the Queen of Atlanta’s party. You did go, didn’t you?”

  She had to clear her throat before she could answer. “It was fine.” It was a good thing they were having this conversation over the phone, otherwise she’d never be able to fool him. She touched her cheeks, feeling their heat.

  Remembering he’d had his own plans that night, she asked, “How was your date?”

  He made a chuffing noise, the one he always paired with a dramatic eye roll. “Let’s just say if the guy was a dot-com executive, than I’m a straight guy. I hate people who feel they have to lie on their profiles. Like a high powered job negates being an ass.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s his loss. I wish you were here so we could drown your sorrows in some ice cream.”

  “Thanks,” he said with a laugh. “Tell me, what are you getting up to without me to keep you out of trouble?

  “Nothing much,” she answered, tempted to make up something about grading papers or reading. But she’d never lied to her best friend, and she wasn’t going to start now. She just needed to make it sound like no big deal. “Oh, Katie’s brother is coming over in a few minutes.”

  Several seconds ticked by. “Is it a date?”

  “No,” she shot back, her voice raising several octaves. It wasn’t. A date involved some type of social activity. “I’ve agreed to help him with his autism charity, and he’s bringing me some computer files he wants me to look over.”

  “That’s too bad,” he chuckled. “He is a fine specimen of the male gender.”

  Wasn’t that the God’s honest truth.

  “Why are all the good ones are either taken or straight?”

  Abby fumbled the phone, she laughed so hard. “You’re a mess,” she finally managed.

  The doorbell dried up her mirth. Her eyes darted around her living room as her free hand fluttered over her hair. “Hey, that’s the door,” she said walking toward the sound of the bell that had rung again. “I better go.”

  “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “That only leaves skydiving and busty blonds.”

  The last part of her sentence hung in the air as she opened the door. She didn’t know who was more surprised: Abby or her sister, Sarah, who was standing bug-eyed where her tall, dark and handsome should have been. Abby coughed to cover the laugh that threatened to bubble up.

  “What?”

  They’d never been the type of sisters who just dropped by each other’s place. Why now, of all times? “It’s Sarah,” she answered, making her voice light. No sense starting off on the wrong foot.

  “Don’t let her get under your skin.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell her you said hi,” she said before pushing the “end” button on the phone.

  “I was in the area, and I thought I’d pop by and pick up those photos you promised,” Sarah said as she stepped through the doorway.

  After leaving Katie and Jackson’s wedding on less than cordial terms, Abby wanted to smooth things over with the only blood relative she had other than Jackson. She’d made a small album of wedding photos to give as an olive branch. “Sure, it’s right over here,” she said pointing to a bookcase behind her.

  “Are you expecting company?” Sarah asked pointing to the chips and salsa on the coffee table.

  “Grant Davis is coming over in a while,” Abby answered, hoping her sister would then cut her impromptu visit short.

  Sarah cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t he married?”

  The implicatio
n hurt. “He’s divorced.” If Abby did a thousand things right, it would never erase her one mistake in her sister’s eyes. “Besides, it’s not like that. I’m helping him and Heather with their charity.”

  Sarah narrowed her eyes as if she were calling up some detail for her memory banks. “They still live together, don’t they?”

  Classic Sarah. She loved gathering tidbits of information the way a squirrel did acorns. The better to judge everyone with.

  Abby clenched her jaw to keep the storm of words inside her mouth. What business was it of Sarah’s how other people lived their lives?

  Sarah prattled on, keeping up her one-sided conversation. “Makes you wonder if the two of them can stand to live under the same roof why they didn’t just stay married.”

  A chill washed over Abby. She saw last Sunday how well the two got on. Like friends. What if there was more than co-parenting going on?

  “Who knows, maybe they’ll remarry,” Sarah said. “I always think it’s best if children are raised in a two parent home.”

  Abby seethed from her sister’s latest jab. She could name quite a few children who turned out just fine with one parent. Jackson. And a few who’d been raised with both parents who seemed to delight in making each other miserable. She’d had all the family values lecture she could stand. Abby thrust the album toward her sister. “I hope you’ll enjoy the pictures,” she practically growled. So much for the olive branch.

  Sarah blinked, seemingly confused by Abby’s forcefulness. Her sister always was surprised when others didn’t share her point of view or baulked at being schooled on morality. Her mouth opened as if she were about to launch into another round of “what’s wrong with the world.”

  Abby’s phone cut off the impending lecture. Grant’s number showed up on the phone’s screen. “Hello,” she said, keeping her voice casual.

  His sultry voice reached out through the line. “Hi, beautiful lady.”

  She held up a finger to her sister and stepped out of earshot. “What’s up?”

  “Something’s come up here at home.” Though his voice became muffled, probably from him covering the receiver with his palm, she could still hear him say, “Hold on sweetheart. I’ll be right there.” Then his voice became clear again. “I’ll call you, and we can reschedule.”