“Ummm, we haven’t slept together yet.” Don’t ask me why I tell them this, but it seems appropriate since Bizzy shared her details.
“Oh, that doesn’t matter. Give it a few days,” Bizzy states matter of factly as if discussing my sex life is a normal occurrence.
“We don’t have the history you and Shaw did.”
“That doesn’t matter either. I knew he was interested years ago, but it was nothing like I witnessed yesterday.”
“He told me he’s crazy about me,” I announce, not thinking that I’m sharing this with his best friend.
Her expression goes soft, and she gives me a sweet smile. “There you go. Don’t fight it. He’s one of the three best men I know, and I want him to be happy.”
The sincerity of her words sink in, and I totally see exactly what Nick was talking about. They share something so deep and beautiful yet so open.
“I want that, too,” I whisper, overcome with emotions.
“Well, okay! Now that we have that out of the way, can you show us around this place? I want a VIP tour,” Claire breaks in, coming to link her arm through mine. “I’m not an art girl, but maybe you can help me with that.”
Bizzy and I don’t talk about Nick again as I lead them around showing off the work and explaining the artists. Logan returns with my tea and gives me a loving kiss on the forehead before locking himself in his office.
It’s obvious by the expression on his face that he knows how much this means to me.
“Grace, we’re going to be late to your own shindig,” Nick yells from my living room.
I breathe in and out a few times, looking at my reflection and second-guessing my dress. It’s times like this I really wish I had close girlfriends. They’d be able to tell me if my choice was too much. Self-doubt creeps into my head. This is by far the most provocative dress I’ve ever owned.
I chose a tea length violet halter dress that has a plunging neckline. The ‘V’ cuts down almost to my navel. I made sure the material was generous enough to completely cover my cleavage since I’m unable to wear any sort of bra. The saleslady was the one who convinced me this was the perfect dress. Once I explained the occasion, she wasted no time.
Surprisingly, my mom agreed when I sent her pictures that this was the perfect choice. She reminded me that I’m not in Thomasville, and this is appropriate for Miami Beach. She also reminded me that I might be part business owner with a ton of responsibility, but I’m also a twenty-five-year-old woman and need to act it.
I slide into my strappy sandals and fluff my hair once more, ready to face Nick.
He’s sitting on the sofa sipping a beer when I walk into the living room. He stops, his bottle midway to his mouth when he sees me. The air in the room changes as his eyes rake up and down my entire body twice. He’s quick, setting the beer down and getting to his feet.
“Don’t move.” Slowly, he walks to me, his eyes locked on mine with each step. The heat of his gaze coats every inch of my flesh.
“Turn around.” His voice comes out rough.
I do as he asks, twirling once. When I face him again, he grabs my waist and yanks me to him, crushing his mouth to mine. My knees go weak as his tongue outlines my lips and gently slips inside. I’m thankful he has a tight grip when I grow dizzy and lean into him for support. He breaks the kiss but keeps his lips pressed to mine in a way I’ve come to love.
“You are fucking breathtaking. The sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my entire fucking life.”
“That’s a lot of fucking.”
“Have you looked in a mirror? I can assure you there’s more fucking where that came from. You’re not leaving my side tonight. Looking the way you do, I’ll be in trouble.” His eyes can only be described as smoldering as his words singe my skin.
I make a mental note to send the saleslady and my mom flowers and vow to trust them the next time I have an event.
“God, you even smell perfect.” He kisses across my cheek to my ear. “Exactly how late can we be and Logan not kill us?”
“Any other night, we’d be safe, but tonight, he may murder me,” I say breathlessly as he nibbles gently on my earlobe. Then I think the wrath of Logan may be worth it if Nick keeps it up.
“We can’t have him murder you on the night of our first official date. I have plans for us.”
“You do?”
“Oh yeah.” He backs away, linking my hand with his. “So we’d better go.”
My conversation with Bizzy races through my mind.
“Ummm, we haven’t slept together yet.”
“Oh, that doesn’t matter. Give it a few days.”
“Grace?” Nick squeezes my hand.
“Yes?” I snap back to reality.
“You okay?”
“Absolutely, why?”
“You seemed to check out for a second. You lost all focus. I’ve noticed you do that a lot.”
Oh my God, this is so embarrassing. I really need to get control over my thoughts. “My family calls it Grace Space…”
“Is Grace Space good?”
“It can be. I honestly don’t even know it’s happening.”
He stares at me a beat then kisses my temple before leading me to the door. The gallery is the last thing on my mind as I wonder what plans Nick has in store.
No amount of planning could have prepared me for the turnout and response to the event. This is by far the largest crowd we’ve had, and the best news is, the guests are buyers. Logan and I have already sold over a dozen pieces, large and small.
True to his word, Nick hasn’t left my side all night. He’s been recognized by almost everyone, but to my surprise, they have been respectful of his space. A few of the men have tried to talk about the upcoming game, but Nick has expertly answered the questions and turned the focus back to the purpose of the evening.
I’ve always considered the gallery to be spacious, but I’m thankful to Logan for setting up tables outside. They allow for people to stay and mingle and thin out the crowd. No one seems to want to leave. Socially, this is the place to be on a Friday night. At least, that’s what the reporter in the Arts and Entertainment section of the Tribune reported this morning, and it rings true.
“Sweet Peach, I’m very proud of you,” Nick whispers in my ear from behind, his arms resting on my waist. “This is quite a showing.”
Goosebumps rise on my arms, and I lean into him comfortably. “You helped,” I point out.
“I took directions from the boss. That’s not too much.”
I want to argue with him, tell him this would have been a much more painstaking process without him, but Logan appears at my side with three glasses of champagne and a huge smile on his face.
He offers two of them to Nick and me then clinks glasses with nothing but a wink. There’s a bright flash, blinding me momentarily. When my eyes focus, I recognize the cute young man who arrived with a reporter earlier.
“Chad, you better have gotten my good side, or I’ll never invite you back,” I tease him.
“Miss Grace, I’m not sure you could take a bad picture.” He flirts like an expert.
“Flattery is the best way to ensure you’re always welcome here.”
“I’m telling the truth. Don’t you agree, Six?” He peeks at Nick with so much admiration, my heart swells. He’s star-struck.
“Oh yeah, buddy. Grace definitely doesn’t have a bad side. Every part of her is gorgeous.”
Now it’s my turn to swoon. It’s one thing for Nick to whisper sweet words to me when we’re alone, but to announce it to a stranger—and media member—is big.
“Mr. Monroe, can I get a few of you and Miss Grace together?”
Nick steps back while Logan and I pose for a few shots. When he’s done, he thanks us and moves into the crowd with his camera raised, but not before a few words of praise to Nick.
One of our largest clients approaches us with an inquiry about a few pieces, and I mouth to Nick that I’ll be right back as I follow
Mrs. Shields to answer her questions. He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek, tucks a stray hair behind my ear, and brushes the rest of my hair over my shoulder. The intimate gesture sets my heart racing.
To my surprise, Mrs. Shields not only wants information, but she also wants a full display section for the holiday season in her home. Logan explains the process, and I listen intently, my own pride overflowing at my brother’s keen business acumen. He doesn’t skip a beat as he rattles off the next steps, promising that we’ll handle everything after the waivers and contracts are reviewed. By the time he’s finished, Mrs. Shields is glowing with excitement.
I excuse myself, promising to be available for the install at her house, and thank her before walking around to make sure the rest of the guests are okay. When I round the corner, my feet stumble to a halt. Nick is leaning against the wall, still holding two glasses of champagne with his arms crossed. A beautiful brunette is standing close, talking to him. I watch as he says something to her, and she takes it as an invitation to step closer, invading his personal space. She arches until she brushes her chest against his crossed arms.
The air around me changes as jealousy bubbles inside. Nick’s face snaps to mine, and his eyes widen as he searches my face. Then a cocky smile crosses his lips, and he puts the glasses down on the podium behind him and strides to me, completely ignoring her. She spins around to watch as he approaches me. The last thing I see is shock on her face before Nick pulls me into him and lays his mouth on mine.
“I missed you,” he draws out in his sexy voice. “That may be the last time I let you leave my side tonight. How’d it go?”
I’m about to tell him about my conversation with Mrs. Shields when there’s an exasperated sigh behind us.
Nick exhales with irritation and twirls us, tucking me to his side and dropping his arm to my waist. I’m now facing the busty brunette, whose earlier flirty demeanor has changed. She’s staring at me with a dismissive glare.
“Nick, I wasn’t quite done with my story,” she snips.
“Sorry, Shannon, I was distracted.” Nick leans down and runs his lips along my hairline.
“Who’s your friend?” She doesn’t try to hide her disapproval.
“This is my girlfriend, Grace Monroe. Grace, this is Shannon,” he tells me, tightening his fingers into my hip. I’m momentarily stunned at him introducing me as his girlfriend.
Our eyes meet, and I fight to keep standing at the expression on his face. His eyes are dancing with happiness, glowing the bright blue I love.
“Monroe, as in Monroe Gallery?” Shannon sneers.
“That’s me,” I confirm with a short nod.
“Logan did mention his baby sister was coming to Miami.”
“You know Logan?” I question her.
“Yes, I’m Shannon Rails,” she answers confidently, flipping her hair over her shoulder and poking her chest out.
I remain quiet, tossing the name around in my head, trying to recall if Logan has mentioned her. Nothing comes up. The silence stretches, and her face grows more and more agitated.
“From ‘Shannon Says’,” she finishes, as if this will clear up any confusion.
I still have no clue who she is. Nick starts to shake, then coughs, covering his chuckle. “Shannon runs an online blog,” he explains to me.
“Oh, that’s interesting.” I try my best to sound sincere, which is a waste of breath. Her eyes cut to Nick, and she crosses her arms defensively.
“It is hardly just an online blog. It’s a social entertainment platform covering the most popular and exclusive events in Miami. I have thousands of followers who rely on my news coverage.” She stops short of stomping her foot.
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Shannon.” I try to pacify her oncoming hissy fit. “Thank you for coming tonight.”
Her eyes slice back to me, clearly still offended by the ‘blog’ comment.
“Yes, nice to meet you, too. I’d love to chat with you further.”
I stupidly assume she’d like to discuss the gallery, seeing as it is why we’re standing here. “Sure, call me on Monday and we can schedule a time. I have a full calendar of upcoming events and even a sneak peak into next year.”
Her face twists uncomfortably as she processes my words. Then she starts to shake her head with a cynical laugh. “Oh, that’s fine, but I’m more interested in your relationship with Nick Bennett. My followers are going to want to know exactly how you landed Sexy Six.”
Nick goes stiff beside me, a low growl escaping him. “Shannon, Grace is a respectable business owner. She’s not going to be a sleazy piece of gossip for you. Our relationship is private. Our personal lives are personal. Leave it alone.”
She glares at him, and her lips tilt in a scary grin. “Whatever you say, Sexy. See you around.” She leaves without another word to me and struts outside.
“Sweet Peach?” Nick cups my chin, bringing my face to his. “You okay?”
“She’s a piece of work.”
“She’s a spoiled little rich girl whose daddy has bankrolled her hobby in order to keep her happy. He’s a prominent CEO in banking and doesn’t know how to say no. He uses his position of power to keep her happy. I’ve had many run-ins with her little act, and it’s easier to ignore her than tell her to fuck off. I did that once, and Shaw almost had a coronary.”
“Why, does Shaw like her?”
“No, he hates her ass, but it was poor timing on my part. I was about to do a public bullying campaign with a few other players, and it looked shitty to have me telling a woman to ‘fuck off’.”
“I think I’ll conveniently forget I offered to chat with her, and I’ll explain it to Logan to stay away, too.”
“Probably a good idea.”
He’s about to say more when we’re interrupted by another couple. This time Nick knows them and steps away from me, embracing the woman gently. There are a few words exchanged before Nick turns to me and introduces me to one of the team doctors and his wife.
Like with Shannon, Nick introduces me as his girlfriend, but this time, there is no judgment, only smiles of approval as he keeps me close.
I glance over my shoulder to see Logan eying me with a supportive smile. He raises his glass in appreciation, and I tip my head in acknowledgment.
Every bit of apprehension I’ve been carrying around dies.
I can do this.
Scratch that. We can do this, and we can kick ass every step of the way.
Chapter 12
Nick
I hold tight to Grace’s hand the entire drive back to her place as she replays the events of the night. It sounds like she and Logan had an extremely successful evening. I’m not surprised when she mentions she had to remove her glass sculpture from the display because of endless inquiries to purchase it. She tries to act blasé about it, but I can hear the tinge of excitement, knowing others loved the piece as much as she does.
“I told you it was incredible and one of a kind,” I remind her.
“Yes, it’s surreal, though, that people may actually want to buy my work. I’m sure every artist goes through this.”
“You’ve never sold anything before?” This piece of news surprises me. She may not have made a lot of money, but I’d think she’d have sold something in her own gallery.
“I have, but not a glass piece. Since it’s my passion, it’s where I’d like to focus once I’m comfortable.”
“Comfortable? What’s going to make you comfortable?” I angle into a space and park, twisting to face her. There’s a light glow from a street lamp that barely illuminates her face, and I see her chewing on her bottom lip. I squeeze her hand, encouraging her to look at me. “Grace?”
“I’d feel more confident if I could get more training, learn more techniques, and maybe have a sponsored mentor to help guide my designs. Some people have the talent to do general pieces, but I want to create on a more grand scale.”
“So do it.”
“I’m trying. I�
�ve applied for a program, an internship or apprenticeship of sorts.”
“That’s great.” I reach to unclick her seatbelt and cup her chin, trying to bring her mouth to mine, but she stops me with a hand to my chest.
“I wasn’t even going to apply, but Grandpa and Logan insisted. It’s a highly coveted program that only accepts a small percentage of applicants based on a number of factors. I’m not getting my hopes up.”
“They’d be lucky to have you.”
“Well, I’m not so sure, and I’d most likely have to leave Miami for a few months.”
The air is sucked out of my lungs at her statement. Leave Miami? She just got here. Hell, I finally found her again. I’m not ready to let her go. Pretty sure I’ll never let her go.
Her breath hitches, and I realize I’ve got a death grip on her hand. “Sorry.” I release it and lean back. “Where would you go?”
“Well, it depends. There are some phenomenal renowned artists in the Pacific Northwest, maybe New York, Chicago, Vegas. It all depends.”
Hearing these locations, my chest settles. They aren’t so bad. “All within a few hours on a plane.”
“Yes, but there’s some guilt since I just got here and started carrying my weight. There’s a lot to do, and I’m so excited. It’s like my life is really starting. Not to mention, there’s yo—”
She stops herself, but not in time. Even in the darkness, I can tell she’s blushing. Without a word, I’m out of the truck and at her door in less than five seconds. She squeaks when I lift her and wiggles as I rush to her elevator. The nighttime security guard gives me a sideways glance, not questioning us. She hides her head in my neck, holding tight.
The ride up, I mentally tell myself to try to calm down. My heart’s racing so fast I can feel the pulsing in my veins.
“Keys.” I balance her weight in one arm and hold out my palm when we get to her door. She hands them to me, and I let us into her apartment, kicking the door shut and heading straight to her couch. I say a silent thanks she left a lamp on, so I don’t trip over anything.
Gently, I lay her down and position myself on my side, pressing her close, making sure not to crush her.
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