Grace’s mouth twitched, the corners turning up into a sly smile. “Actually, I’m starved. And you seem to be a mighty good cook.”
He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, which now held just a hint of a taste of salt. “That’s exactly what I like to hear.”
Grace laughed softly, then pulled him down to her for another kiss—a kiss that held all kinds of interesting promises.
…
She was boneless, sated, and drifting on the edge of sleep when she felt the bed shift as Beau got up. Grace heard the rustling sounds of him getting dressed, and though she figured she should say something, her eyelids were too heavy and her lips too numb. It didn’t feel worth the fight to open either of them. Honestly, she was glad he was leaving—well, not exactly glad, but at least aware it was a good idea. They both had two very long days ahead of them, and if he stayed here, she couldn’t guarantee either of them would get much sleep. Even in her exhausted state, she could feel the little flame of desire in her stomach just waiting to be fanned back into a fire.
Gentle fingers moved her hair back, and a featherlight kiss brushed over her forehead. A moment later, he was gone, and she heard the front door close behind him.
The realization of what she’d just done landed just a split second later, and her sleepy, sated brain suddenly whizzed to life. Her earlier feelings of validation withered under the shameful foolishness of sleeping with Beau simply to try to vindicate her inner adolescent. She was a grown woman who should really be beyond that, but she’d regressed back to her needy, desperate-to-be-accepted younger self…
It seemed she really hadn’t come that far, after all.
Chapter Four
Beau was about to have a mutiny on his hands. Grace arrived at Belles Fleurs at exactly four o’clock, and by four thirty, she had his staff running like ants on an anthill. The chairs were wrong and had to be reset. If a table was off a quarter of an inch, she made them move it. She inspected the silverware and sent half of it back to be repolished. All the windows on the second floor had to be opened so the ready rooms for Honey and the bridal party could be aired out. She was demanding and organized, and no detail was too minor or beyond her notice. He debated offering her a job, but when he voiced that thought, three of his most-valued employees threatened to quit on the spot. He was just glad the rehearsal dinner was at the country club and not here, or he might not have a staff tomorrow at all.
He had a pot of gumbo simmering on the stove and a really nice bottle of wine to pair it with set aside for later. With Honey’s wedding tomorrow, he didn’t really have time to cook something to really impress Grace, but he could certainly do better than the egg and pasta dish of last night. She’d been asleep when he left, and he hadn’t woken her—she’d need all the rest she could get in order to herd that group of cats through the next thirty-something hours—so while they didn’t exactly have dinner plans in place, he was working on the assumption they would.
But other than a brisk and brief greeting when she arrived with a carload of boxes of wedding favors and other stuff, Grace hadn’t spoken to him. Messages and requests came via his staff, and he was beginning to think she was avoiding him intentionally. One thing he did know was that Grace was able to focus with laserlike precision on a task—both professionally and recreationally, his body reminded him—so he didn’t take issue with it. Too much.
Anyway, he had his own tasks to occupy him. The boxes of fresh produce arriving needed to be checked against the invoice, and the kitchen itself was busy with assistants peeling shrimp and preparing marinades in preparation for tomorrow.
He heard his name and looked up to see Honey navigating her way carefully through the organized chaos. Her eyes widened as she looked around. “This is a lot of food.”
“You’ve got a lot of people coming.”
“I know.” Those big brown eyes took on a slightly wild look. “It’s going to be a disaster, I just know it.”
“Hey, now,” he teased, “don’t go insulting me in my own kitchen.”
Honey’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean you—I mean, that the food—would be…”
He should know better than to tease any bride, but especially Honey. “I know what you meant. Everything is going to be perfect tomorrow. Trust me, I’ve done dozens of weddings here, and yours is nowhere near disaster stage.”
That seemed to mollify her, however briefly. Before Honey could find something else to stress over, though, he asked, “So what brings you to my kitchen?”
“Gracie Lee—Grace,” she corrected herself, “told me to come ask you for a glass of wine.”
“For her?”
“No, for me. She says I’m starting to stress and need to spend at least fifteen minutes on the front porch swing with a glass of wine thinking about nothing but my future happiness.”
Grace was no fool. Even he could see that Honey was near the breaking point, even if she was trying to put a good face on for everyone. He got a glass. “Sounds like an excellent idea. White or red?”
“White.” She shrugged. “I think Grace just wants me out from under her feet for a few minutes. The girl’s a general.”
He laughed. “I think my staff would agree with you.”
“It’s funny. Looking back, who would have ever thought little Gracie Lee had it in her? She was always so quiet.”
The change in topic seemed to calm Honey a little, so he encouraged it. “Honey, everyone is quiet compared to you,” he teased.
She took the glass he offered, then slapped his arm. “Don’t be mean to me. I’m the bride.”
“No one could ever be mean to you.”
She waved the comment away. “But I had a long think after I saw her the other day, and I realized how mean we’d all been to her, though. Me included.” She shook her head. “It’s shameful, really.”
“Teenage stuff.”
“Teenage stuff still leaves scars,” she said quietly, making him wonder what her scars might be. “In her shoes, I’d probably be tempted to sabotage something tomorrow in revenge. Daddy’s giving her a big bonus for taking this on, but I feel like I should do something nice for her, too. Maybe take her to lunch?”
“To make amends?”
“That, and as a thank-you, too, but after talking to her, I kind of like her. She seems cool, like she might be a good friend to have. Do you think she’d be open to that? Be willing to forgive and forget and move on?”
Grace had certainly been willing to do exactly that last night. “I think you’ve got a good chance she would.”
Honey leveled a stern look at him. “You should really apologize to her, too, you know. She gets this weird look on her face every time someone mentions your name.”
That didn’t sound right.
“I’m not sure I’d ever be able to forgive you for something like that,” Honey continued, “but it would still be the right thing for you to do.”
How to answer? “I’ve only recently become aware of the part I unwittingly played in that teenage drama—”
She shook her head. “You should still apologize, though. Consider it a wedding gift. I’ve got enough to worry about going wrong tomorrow, and I don’t need Grace coming after you with one of your own knives, no matter how much I understand the provocation.”
She’d had a smile on her face when he’d left last night, so the idea of Grace acting grudge-y today wasn’t right. “Honey, I think you should probably go have that sit-down now. You wouldn’t want Grace mad at you for ignoring her instructions, would you?”
“You’re probably right.” She picked up the glass of wine and took a big gulp. Without comment, Beau topped it up again. Honey nodded her thanks. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be out front on the swing trying not to hyperventilate.”
He waited until she left, then he went out the other doors in search of Grace. He spotted her in the tent deep in conversation with the minister and Brent. “Grace!” he called as he approached.
She turned slowly
, looking for the voice, and her eyebrows pulled together when she spotted him.
“Can I speak to you for a minute? Over there?” He pointed to the currently unoccupied gazebo.
Brent rolled his eyes. “Please tell me nothing’s gone wrong. Honey will lose her mind.”
“I’m sure everything is fine,” Grace assured him and looked to Beau, the expectation he would back her up on that statement very clear on her face.
“No problems. Just a few things I need to clarify with Grace. It won’t take long.”
Grace smiled and patted Brent’s arm. “It’s my job to worry, not yours. I’ll be back in minute and maybe we can get this rehearsal started, okay?”
She fell into step beside him, and once they were out of Brent’s earshot, she laid into him. “Have you lost your freakin’ mind? I thought you said this wasn’t your first wedding. You don’t bring up problems in front of already stressed and anxious people.” In the shade of the gazebo, she turned and crossed her arms over her chest. “So what is it?”
“I haven’t had much of a chance to speak to you today.”
“I’ve been a bit busy. And don’t you have things you need to be doing?”
Although the words seemed to make perfect sense, something had him starting to wonder if maybe he did need to lock up the knives. “That’s it, then? Nothing wrong?”
“I’m trying to run a wedding rehearsal. There are any number of things wrong at any given moment. You’ll need to be more specific.”
“Honey says you get a weird look—yeah, that’s the one—every time my name comes up. ”
Grace frowned. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
“Well, she told me I needed to apologize to you, but I was under the impression I already had. Last night.”
“Yes, thoroughly. Repeatedly. Apology accepted.” Grace looked edgy, a far cry from the general Honey and his staff had described.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“No offense, but this is really not a good time—”
“Honey’s on my porch calming her nerves, so you have a few minutes before any rehearsing can start.”
Grace looked over toward the wedding party, but everyone was just milling about happily, and no one seemed to be looking for her. She sighed. “Fine. Last night was a mistake. It should not have happened—”
Whoa. “A mistake?”
“Yes. I appreciate your apology and accept the fact you meant no real harm that night. There was no need to take it any further than that.”
He was now lost. “What?”
“That part of my life is behind me now, and while it’s been nice to visit and lay some old ghosts to rest, there’s nothing for me in Bellefleur.” Her voice turned cool and calm, and the edginess was gone. She looked him square in the eye. “Once Honey and Brent are safely married, I won’t be back. At all.”
He’d never been dismissed like that before. Here he’d been thinking there was something interesting starting between them, and Grace considered him an old ghost needing burying. He felt more than just a little foolish. And a little bit used, as well. “So that’s it?
“It has to be. You’re a nice guy, Beau, and last night was a lot of fun, but you’re a part of my past. Gracie Lee doesn’t exist anymore.” A loud beep had Grace pulling her phone out of her pocket and sighing. “Now, unless you have something about this wedding to discuss, I’ve got a lot of people out there waiting for me to start the rehearsal.” She turned, obviously thinking she would get to make her exit on that note, but he caught her elbow.
This was beyond messed up. “I didn’t know Gracie Lee, and if you hadn’t asked me to the spring dance, you’d be an even vaguer high school memory than you already are. But I was interested in Grace Henson. It’s a shame that she can’t let Gracie Lee go and get over it. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Christ, now you’ve got me talking about ‘Gracie Lee’ like she’s some other person. It’s insane. None of us are the same people we were in high school. You should be proud of how far you’ve come instead of trying to forget it all.”
Grace took a step back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, I am proud. And, trust me, I haven’t forgotten. But that’s exactly the reason why last night was a mistake.”
This was insanity. “You know, I’m starting to agree with you.”
He left her there in the gazebo before he said something he’d regret later. If nothing else, they still had to get through Honey’s wedding, and he didn’t need drama with the wedding planner in the mix. Brent shot him a questioning look as he passed by on his way back to the kitchen, but Beau waved him off.
Grace was right about one thing: he had plenty of things he needed to be doing. So he would go do them, and try to forget that he’d ever gone to Grace’s last night at all.
…
When Beau stalked out, Grace finally let out her breath. That had not gone as expected. Her decisions had seemed so reasonable and rational at three o’clock this morning, and while she’d practiced her speech several times to herself today, it had all come out in a jumbled, irrational mess when she actually tried to deliver it.
She sat on one of the benches, needing a second to collect herself before she went back out there. Beau had seemed so shocked at her speech—jumbled or not—as though he’d really expected something different to come from last night. Was she really looking for validation? Or vindication? Both? Neither? Did it matter? Argh.
Things had been so much simpler before she came back to Bellefleur. She’d known exactly who she was. Everything was so confused now—
“Grace?” She jumped. Honey stood in the gazebo door, worry etched across her face. “Are you okay?”
Good Lord, I totally forgot about the wedding. She forced herself to smile serenely. “I’m fine. I thought you were taking a little break, though.”
“I did. But you said take fifteen minutes and that was thirty minutes ago. Has something gone wrong?”
Damn it. She’d been in here longer than she thought. No wonder Honey looked so stressed. Back to work. She forced a bigger, brighter smile across her face. “No, not at all. You don’t need to be worrying about anything. I’ve got it all under control.” Grace pushed to her feet. “If everyone’s here now, we’ll start—”
“Wait.” Honey reached for her hand and led her back to the bench. The serious look on her face contrasted with her cheery yellow dress, which brought out the highlights in her hair and warmed her brown eyes. She took a deep breath as they sat. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
It wasn’t unusual for wedding planners to double as pre-wedding counselors, and soothing nervous brides and warming cold feet were just part of the job. The one thing Grace knew for certain was that Honey wouldn’t be suffering from cold feet, but there was definitely something bothering her. That’s why she’d sent her off for a glass of wine and a break in the first place. Whatever it was, Honey probably had only one nerve left, and it was getting stretched pretty tight. Grace sat next to her, schooling her face into the encouraging yet sympathetic smile she’d found helped in these situations. “Okay. Tell me.”
“First, I want to say thank you. I’m afraid I’ll forget to do it tomorrow. You’re amazing, the way you’ve stepped in—”
That was a surprise. “Honey, it’s my pleasure. I want this to be the most perfect, most beautiful wedding Bellefleur has ever seen. You can thank me by having a wonderful day and living happily ever after with Brent.”
Honey’s smile was, at best, tight. Grace had to give her props, though, for the effort. “That’s my hope.” She took a deep breath. “And I also want to say I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Being mean to you in high school, for starters.”
That came straight from left field, throwing her off her game. And while the apology meant more to her than she really wanted to admit, now was really not the proper time to rehash fast times at Bellefleur High. “That was a long time ago, Honey—�
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“I know, but I still want to apologize. And once I’m back from my honeymoon, I’d like to go to lunch. Get to know you better.”
And the hits just keep coming. “I think I’d like that,” she said automatically, surprising herself when she realized it was true. And it wasn’t validation or vindication, either, just the fact that she’d like to get to know Honey a little better, too. After all, planning a wedding gave all kinds of insights into the bride, and she had to admit Honey would probably be an interesting friend to have. Crazy. Grace stood again, trying to be brisk and professional. “Now, we’ve got people waiting—”
Honey turned serious. “They can keep waiting. I’m not done.”
Grace sat. “O-kay.”
“I told Beau to apologize to you—”
“What? When?” This wasn’t at all what she’d been expecting, and it certainly wasn’t a very professional conversation to be having, but the words were out before she could stop them. Beau claimed he hadn’t known until she told him, and while it shouldn’t make a difference, it did. She couldn’t handle it if Beau had shown up at her place last night out of pity or regret for his actions. “Just a little while ago. When I went to get the wine. He says he didn’t know that you’d been set up, and I believe him. I hope you will, too.”
Her phone beeped again. She simply couldn’t deal with the Beau issue right now. “Okay. But, Honey, let’s focus on the wedding—”
“I’ve thought about nothing else for months, and I think I’d like a minute to think about something else for a change.”
There was obviously a lot more than just the wedding of the decade stressing Honey, but they weren’t actually friends—yet—so Grace didn’t know what other topics might be appropriate. Or safe to broach. They didn’t have much to talk about other than the wedding.
Honey seemed to think otherwise. “Here’s the thing. I think Beau’s going to ask you out.”
Grace choked and covered it with a cough. “What?”
When Honey Got Married Page 4