I wait for the suffocating guilt to claw at me, but it doesn’t happen. Instead, I feel happy… and maybe a bit confused.
“But just because we laughed doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. You should have warned me.”
“Did he show?”
“Yes, he was here.”
“Spill.” He stands upright and gives me ‘the look’.
“First, explain yourself.”
He sighs and walks around to the other side of the table to sit. “I worked hard to get the Foundation Dinner gig, not only for the prestige but also because of you.”
“Why in the world?”
“I mentioned I knew you had a secret crush, but what I didn’t say is it was Mom who tipped me off. She told me you met a boy and had a date. She was so excited, but then Grandma died and everything went chaotic. I wanted to ask you about him, but the time never seemed right until I saw your phone one night. Then things fell into place when we went to clean out your apartment, and your roommate said Nick Bennett stopped by to see if you were okay. The look on your face said it all. You had a massive crush on the school football star.”
“That was a long time ago. Things have changed.”
“Well, I took matters into my own hands. When the opportunity arose, I wanted to put you in the same room with him, to see what would happen. Never did I expect to find what I saw the next day. I thought it was a little infatuation, but when you walked in here on Monday, I knew. You were completely tweaked.”
My face blazes with heat. I was sure I’d done a great job of masking my feelings.
“Then fate stepped in. When I answered a call from a Crenshaw Bennett on Wednesday requesting a private appointment with Grace Monroe, I knew. Everyone who follows Miami football is familiar with Shaw Bennett. Not to mention, caller ID gave the name of the agency. I scheduled the appointment, hoping my instincts were right.”
“Once again, why did you keep it from me?”
“Because I didn’t want to set you up for disappointment in case he didn’t show.”
“He came in, shocked the shit out of me, and made me cry. Then he proceeded to be equally as wonderful, and now I’m giddy like a schoolgirl when I think of him. You satisfied?”
His face morphs into anger. “He made you fucking cry?”
“Yes! Because he was so sweet. He brought me a tea, a fucking tea he bribed Marla at the coffee shop to tell him my favorite. I was already on unstable ground with him showing up, so when he gave me the tea, I cried! They were tears of surprise.”
The anger disappears as a satisfied grin crosses his lips. “Smooth.”
“I’m done with you! I shed tears, looked like a fool, and totally humiliated myself! Why are you grinning?”
“Because I may like him.”
“You already like him! He’s your number one draft quarterback!”
“Winning me money and dating my sister are two entirely different things.”
“We’re not dating!” I sound more and more like an irrational dingbat. I need to get my emotions under control and not let him get to me.
“Yet.” He gets up and goes to the coffee maker, pouring himself a mug.
“There is no yet,” I reply with narrowed eyes. “And stop playing matchmaker.”
He raises his hands in defeat, but I can’t miss the glint in his eye. “I’ve done my part. The rest is out of my hands.”
“When did you become such a girl? This is very uncharacteristic of you. If I remember, you threatened my half of this gallery if I didn’t break up with my last boyfriend.”
“That guy wasn’t your boyfriend. God, Grace, have some sense! He was a—”
“I get it. No need to relive it. I think he finally got the hint when Grandpa shot out his taillights.”
“Lucky his ass wasn’t shot. Who the hell shows up for a town function smelling of booze and cheap perfume then proceeds to make out with another woman?”
“It wasn’t that bad! It wasn’t like we were exclusive.” I try to defend the poor schmuck I dated twice last year.
In all honesty, I never wanted to see him again, but pride made me invite him to the end of the season Pecan Picking last year. It was a mistake, but I was sick of all the town ninnies trying to set me up. So I instead invited Paul? Peter? Pledge? What was his name? Even I try to forget.
Pledge! That’s it.
“Pledge was a nice guy but completely misunderstood. He wasn’t used to our southern style and traditions.”
“Jesus, Grace, he was a total dick. And who’s named Pledge?”
Watching his face turn red delights me more than it should. Pledge truly was a douchebag, but I was backed into a corner.
My dad may be the Mayor, but he’s a father first. He cheered on my grandpa while videoing the whole thing when Pledge sped off our property with shots booming in the air.
Dad waited until the festivities were over before I was subjected to yet another family lecture about the importance of choosing my friends more carefully. My plan to rebel backfired enormously, but it did stop the meddling for a while.
Thinking of Grandpa pulling his shotgun out when he caught Pledge with another woman in the barn is enough to make me giggle. Pretty soon, we’re both laughing again at the memory.
“You want to know the best part of that total experience?” I ask through my laughter.
“What?”
“Later that night, Mom cornered me, and she wasn’t mad at all. She thought the situation was hilarious and told me Grandma would have loved every minute of it, from the way the town nosy nellies were gossiping under their breath to the way Sheri Cobb was caught with her skirt bunched around her hips. Mom said I was a true Monroe woman.”
“Really? Mom would be the first person I’d think was mortified.”
“Logan, you’ll never understand, but we Monroe women have a trait. It’s more of a gift. That night, I knew it was time for me to come here and join you. It finally felt right.”
He looks at me in disbelief, his eyes growing wide. “I won’t even pretend to understand, but whatever the reason, I’m glad you got here.”
“It does feel right, doesn’t it?” Even after all the planning and time it took, I want to hear he’s glad I’m around.
“More than you’ll ever know. Having you has been a Godsend.”
My insides warm at his statement. He is more than capable of handling the business on his own or hiring someone with true artistic knowledge. But he’s been patient with me, understanding my obligations.
“Tell me something, though. Is he the reason you wanted to open a gallery in Miami?”
No use in lying. “It crossed my mind, but he’s not the reason. That would be highly stalkerish. This seemed like the best location out of the two we narrowed it down to.”
“I agree but had to ask.”
“I didn’t know if our paths would cross.”
He nods quickly, satisfied with my answer. “With that being said, let’s get back to something important.”
“What’s that?”
“You need to get that application done in the next week, Grace. It’s time you follow through. At this point, there is nothing standing in your way.”
Hearing this from him fuels my enthusiasm to get into the program, but that enthusiasm quickly fades when Nick’s face flashes through my head. How would he feel about me leaving for a few months?
It’s way too soon to worry about that. Who knows what the future holds?
Logan’s townhome is filled with people when I walk in on Sunday afternoon. I drop off my appetizers on the dining table, which is overloaded with party food, and join the crowd in the living room.
Logan has set up an additional television, and most men are watching with intense interest as the early games come to an end. I give a universal, “Hey,” to everyone and get a few grunts in response. A woman I recognize from a few of these parties scoots next to me.
“Hey, Grace, how are you?”
“I’m gr
eat, Melanie. How are you?”
“Things are going well. Busy with work, but nothing I can’t handle. I was excited when Logan said you’d be here today.”
Her statement puzzles me. Why wouldn’t I be here? I try to attend all his gatherings, not only because he’s my brother but also because I haven’t met many people in Miami. He’s my only outlet for socialization outside of the gallery.
I must do an awful job of hiding my confusion because her face starts to turn pink. “I-I-I mean, when he mentioned his sister was coming. It’s always nice to have another girl in the mix.”
I do a quick survey of the room and see only two other women who look bored out of their minds. It clicks that besides those two—who are girlfriends to Logan’s friends—and me—the sister—Melanie is the only other woman here.
I look at Logan, who glances up, his eyes darting between her and me. It’s then I sense it. There’s something going on between Logan and Melanie. I shoot him a wink and turn to Melanie, now determined to confirm my suspicions.
Her cheeks are still tinted when I smile at her.
“I agree, Melanie. These parties can be filled with way too much testosterone. It’s always nice to have another woman to chat with.”
Her smile returns, and she seems to relax. We make small talk, mostly about the gallery and my experience so far in Miami. I decide after a few minutes that I like her. She’s easy to talk to and a lot more down to earth than any of the other girls Logan has dated.
We’re interrupted by the ringing of my phone, and I excuse myself, walking into Logan’s room when I see the caller. My stomach flips, and I grin goofily, glad no one can witness my reaction.
“Don’t you have a game to prep for?” My question comes out giggly, and I want to slap myself.
Nick laughs, the line filling with the fun-loving sound. “Yeah, actually. I only have a few minutes, but I felt bad about having to jump off so quickly this morning.”
“Don’t mention it. I told you I understand. This is your job, and you’re busy.”
I mean every word. I know he’s busy, and every time he’s called we’ve only had brief conversations lasting a few minutes. What I don’t dare say is that those few minutes have been highlights of my day.
“Are you at Logan’s?”
“Sure am! Ready to cheer on those Colts! Even wearing my blue and white,” I joke.
“Not funny, Grace,” he rumbles.
“I’m kidding!”
“What are you wearing?”
“Shorts and a t-shirt. Why?’
“Because I’d be a lot happier if I knew you were at least in my team colors.”
I glance down at my shirt and bite my lip. “Would it help if I said my shirt was teal?”
“It helps a little.”
There’s a loud noise and muffled voice on his end of the line.
“Listen, Eddie just came in and told me it’s time for warm up. I’ll call you tonight.”
“Good luck, Nick. I’m not sure of the proper lingo, but I’ll be cheering for you.”
“That’s all the luck I need. Well, that and the fact that there’s a beautiful woman in Miami watching.”
Flutter, flutter, flutter… I’m pretty sure my heart is about to beat out of my chest. “Charmer.”
“Only with you, my Sweet Grace. Talk soon.”
He hangs up, and I fall back on Logan’s bed looking at my phone screen.
“Was that him?” Logan pokes his head inside and asks.
“Who?”
“Don’t play coy. I saw the look on your face before you disappeared.
Damn!
“Seems like you already know the answer to your own question.”
“Well, what did he say? Does he have a strategy? Is he going to do a pocket offense, or is today a throwing game?”
I scrunch my eyebrows, not having any idea what he’s talking about. “I have no clue.”
“He didn’t say?”
“No, why would he?”
“Well, what did he say?”
“Nothing really.” I think about our brief conversation and realize we didn’t talk about anything. “I did wish him luck.”
Logan looks at me with a horrified expression then shakes his head.
“What?”
“You had the Sexy Six on the phone before a major division game, and you said good luck? Grace, this calls for a ‘KICK SOME ASS’.”
“Well, excuse me. I’m not familiar with the protocol. I’ll do better next time.”
His face stays blank for a quick second before he grins widely. “Yeah, next time, do better.”
I realize I’ve insinuated there will be a next time, which gives Logan more ammunition to harass me.
“Whatever, we should probably get back to your guests. I’m sure Melanie is lonely.”
His grin slips, and I spy his eyes flash at the mention of her name. He grumbles something incoherent and turns to walk away.
A thought jumps at me, and I type quickly, hoping Nick will see the text.
I’ve been schooled that ‘good luck’ isn’t proper. So instead, I’ll say ‘kick some ass’. Hope you can hear me cheering all the way in Indy.
I press send and roll my eyes. But I do it smiling.
Chapter 6
Nick
It feels great to be back in Miami, especially after the ass whooping we delivered to Indy yesterday. Airline employees cheer for us as we deplane, with shouts of ‘congratulations’ and ‘great game’. Usually, this would be the motivation to go straight to the stadium and watch films while the game is fresh in my head. But today, I have another destination in mind.
“You want a ride home, Six?” Eddie offers as we wait for our bags.
“Thanks, but Shaw has a car waiting for me.”
“That’s stupid. I pass your place on my way.”
“Maybe I’m not headed home.” I raise an eyebrow at him and watch his face split into a wide grin.
“Grace Monroe?”
“You got it.” I reach for my bag and slap him on the back. “See ya later.”
“Good luck, man. Can’t wait to see how this plays out. Sexy Six has a crush.”
“Crushes are for boys. I’m all man, and it’s time for me to pull out the stops. Not called Sexy Six for nothing.”
His laugh roars all the way outside as I head to the waiting car. Once I give the driver directions, I send a few quick texts to my family, letting them know that I’ve landed and will touch base later. Then I let my finger hover over Grace’s number. The thought of surprising her at the gallery was my goal, but she didn’t answer my call this morning so she may not even be there.
I don’t have to make the decision because SG flashes on my phone as it starts ringing.
“Hey there. Your ears must be ringing.”
“I’m sorry I missed your call. I left my phone at Logan’s last night,” she answers in a rush. “He just now brought it to me. Congratulations on the win.”
“Thanks. I think it may have been the last minute message that gave me the extra motivation.”
“That was the goal.” She gives a light laugh, and the image of her smiling face fills my head.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“Work.”
“You busy?”
“Not yet, I’m getting a few things ready for a new display.”
“Okay, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. You can congratulate me in person.”
“Really? You’re coming here?”
“Is that okay?”
“Sure! I mean, of course.” Her voice goes squeaky. “My brother’s here. Is that okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Well, I don’t want it to be weird… and he’s a little, um, I mean… Well…” The more she tries to explain, the more flustered she becomes, which is completely adorable.
“Grace, it’ll be fine. See you soon.”
The rest of the drive, I go over in my mind how I’ve decided to handle
this. Grace is an expert in the art of diversion. In the brief time we had two years ago, I didn’t notice because I had no idea she’d disappear. But now, I’m wiser.
The last few days, even though our conversations have been short, she’s actively kept the subject on my trip, the game, or me. The two times I’ve asked about her, she’s responded quickly and deflected.
That stops today.
We pull up to Monroe Gallery, and I wrestle with an unusual feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Is it nerves? What the hell?
“Mr. Bennett, would you like me to wait here?” The driver turns to face me.
“Yes, but I’m not sure for how long.”
“It doesn’t matter. The other Mr. Bennett requested my service for the day.”
Shaw is really aiming for the favorite brother award today.
“Thanks. I’ll be back in a while.” I shake his hand and get out, straightening my jacket.
I walk into the gallery with the unusual feeling rattling around my gut. As soon as I enter, I stop dead. The place is completely different than my first visit, and not in a good way. Boxes are piled everywhere with large crates lining every wall. There’s plastic covering the floors and the storefront windows.
All of that flies from my mind as soon as Grace steps into view. She’s wearing short cut-off jean shorts with denim fringe framing her legs. Her oversized t-shirt is hanging off one shoulder, exposing a bright blue tank top. Her hair is on top of her head with several small braids tied back off her forehead.
She’s staring at me with those violet eyes wide, biting her bottom lip.
On instinct, I hold out my arms, and she doesn’t hesitate, flying into them. I pick her up and hug her tightly as she squeals, “Congratulations,” over and over.
It feels natural to have my arms around her, holding her close. My head drops to her neck, and I inhale. The scent of body wash and lotion assaults my senses. It’s all Grace, sweet and intoxicating, and I hope like hell it’s soaking into my clothes.
She stops talking but doesn’t try to get loose. Her warm breath hits my cheek, and my cock starts to twitch, growing tight against my briefs. I try my best to clear my mind, but it’s impossible. It’s everything I can do not to start kissing on the soft skin under her ear.
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