“Sounds great.” Harrison couldn’t resist putting his arm around her. “We’ll figure the rest out. Trust me.” He didn’t know what there was to figure out, but he hated to see her get down like this.
She glanced up at him with those beautiful blue eyes. Harrison placed a soft kiss on her forehead, surprising himself with his boldness.
Grace didn’t respond to his comment or the kiss, simply stared at him for half a beat, then started walking. “This way.” But she stayed close and he kept his arm around her, so Harrison really hoped she was trusting him. He hoped even more that he could somehow help her.
Trust me, trust me. Those words reverberated through her brain as she strolled with Harrison down the famous Dauphin Street. She’d seen the historic brick and painted buildings with the wrought iron second-story porch facades many times, but it was relaxing to walk along with Harrison, especially with his arm around her and his words giving her hope. She didn’t know how they were going to figure anything out, but she wanted to trust him and trust that the good Lord would help her.
She saw the bar and restaurant Kazoola up ahead and steered Harrison that way. “You really hungry?”
“Always.”
“Oh, good, you’ll love this place.”
Kazoola looked teeny from the outside and wasn’t anything fancy on the inside—wrought iron tables and chairs with a large bar. It was good Southern cooking, friendly staff, and often they’d have entertainment that she enjoyed. They sat down and the voluptuous waitress was quick to take their orders. She kept doing double takes at Harrison, which Grace found kind of funny since the lady was probably in her forties and Harrison didn’t seem to notice her significant glances.
“Do you like live entertainment?” Grace asked. A beautiful black lady was warming up in the corner and Grace hoped her voice was as pretty as the rest of her.
“Sure.” He said it like shore, all drawled out and cute.
Grace smiled at him. “The music helps me forget …” She trailed off and concentrated on the singer, who had started singing in a low, soulful voice that touched Grace. As the words registered, something about “walking the trail alone, only the good Lord by my side,” a tear crested her eyelashes and trailed down her cheek.
Harrison scooted his chair closer to hers. He didn’t touch her, but just his solid presence helped. “You’re not alone anymore, remember?” His husky voice went down deeper than the singer’s words.
Grace looked up at him. Did he understood how horribly she hated being alone? How had he come to her right when she needed him? “Thank you,” she managed to whisper for lack of anything witty or significant to say.
Harrison grinned, and those lips of his tempted her like she’d never been tempted in her life. Why did they have to be so full and perfect? Would they be as firm as the rest of him, but soft and yielding to only her? She had no control as she leaned a little closer.
“And an iced tea for the lady and strawberry lemonade for my man here.” The waitress with spiky blonde hair and a very daring neckline set their drinks down. “We’ve been placing bets in the back.” Her tongue trailed along her upper lip. “Pray tell, are you Harrison Jackson?”
Harrison leaned back in his chair and gave her a generous smile. “Yes, ma’am, I am.”
“Well, I’ll be. I’m a huge Auburn fan. Huge! Wait till I tell Tim.” She paused and smiled. “The cook. This is a great day. Harrison Jackson is in the house.” She grinned at Grace like they shared the same treasure. “I’ll be right back with your food, darlin’.”
The interruption wasn’t timely, but she didn’t mind other people fawning over Harrison. He wasn’t cocky at all and Grace thought he deserved a lot more praise. “See, I’m not the only one who followed your every game.”
“But you’re my favorite fan.” He winked.
Grace’s stomach filled up with warm bubbles and she leaned in close to him again. Harrison stared at her with those beautiful brown eyes. He rested his arm on the back of her chair, slowly closing the distance between them. Grace could hardly stand the suspense and couldn’t have cared less that they were in a public place, not when she was about to share the best kiss of her life. Her mama would’ve been appalled, saying she had no class and wasn’t living up to her name. “Grace is all things beautiful, kindly, proper, and saintly,” her mama had always said.
Grace focused on Harrison’s eyes and let all social propriety fly out the door.
“Food’s up.” The happy voice interrupted them again.
Grace pulled back, blushing furiously and feeling more than a little put out with their waitress.
“That’s fried shrimp and the mac ’n’ cheese for the lady, and chicken, waffles, and the best fries in Mobile for my favorite cornerback.” She winked broadly, setting their plates down, leaning close to Harrison, and brushing her well-endowed chest cross his arm.
Harrison drew closer to Grace, but smiled kindly at the lady.
“Can I trouble you for an autograph?” the waitress asked.
“Um, sure.” Harrison lifted his shoulders at Grace as the waitress dashed back to the kitchen for a paper and pen. She returned quickly, fawning over Harrison while he signed the paper.
Grace threw good manners in the trash, ignoring Harrison and the waitress and plunging her fork into her steaming mac ’n’ cheese. The bite was hot but absolutely perfect, with the cheese all melty in her mouth and just the right amount of grease, spice, and bread crumbs. The waitress was still talking about Harrison’s stats and future plans, “disappointed as a wolf in an empty henhouse” when she heard he wasn’t going on to play professionally. Grace tried one of the fried shrimp and savored the crunchy goodness, ignoring the waitress’s tinkling laughter. A fan was one thing; a forty-something lady hitting on her boyfriend was another.
The shrimp caught in her throat. Had she just thought of Harrison as her boyfriend?
“Since your date is ignoring you, beautiful, do you want to dance?” a male voice asked next to Grace.
Grace looked up in surprise at the slicked-back blond hair and good-looking face. “Beau?”
He held out his hand, grinning at her. Grace glanced over at Harrison, who was now ignoring the waitress and watching her closely.
“Dance with me, pretty girl,” Beau begged. When Grace didn’t respond, he wrapped his hand around her elbow and pulled her to her feet. “I said, dance with me.”
Harrison slipped past the waitress and was between her and Beau quicker than a frog could hop out of boiling oil. “Leave her alone,” Harrison commanded, low and threatening.
Beau rammed both of his fists into Harrison’s chest, which Grace thought was very brave and very stupid, considering Harrison had him by four or five inches and probably eighty pounds. Harrison didn’t budge, but simply grabbed Beau’s wrist and squeezed it. Beau winced and tried to pull free, but couldn’t.
“What are you doing with him?” Beau yelled out in frustration. “You’re meant for me! From the time we were babies, you’ve been meant for me.”
The music screeched to a stop and the twenty or so patrons in the restaurant stared at them. Grace could’ve wilted into the floor and been thrilled. “You’re drunk,” she told him, scraping together the remains of her dignity. “Go on home and stop humiliatin’ yourself.”
“I’m not drunk enough to put up with seeing you with this loser!” Beau screamed.
Harrison must’ve put more pressure on Beau’s wrist because he cried out, but not nearly as loud as their waitress hollered, “You see here, mister, you got no right to be talkin’ to Harrison Jackson like that.” She came up in Beau’s face and started pushing at him with that overly large front end. Grace’s estimation of the lady went up several notches.
“What are you gonna do about it?” Beau winced again, and Grace could’ve sworn she heard his bones crack.
“You get on out of here,” Harrison said quietly, but Grace was certain everyone in the restaurant heard it. “And you never di
srespect Grace again or I’ll break your wrist right here and now.”
The waitress puffed out her chest and harrumphed. Beau and Harrison glared at each other. Within seconds Beau looked away, and Harrison released him. Beau backed off to a safe distance and shouted, “This ain’t over, Gracie Lee. You’re mine!”
Harrison leapt in Beau’s direction. Beau squealed and bolted out of the restaurant like a cottonmouth snake had him in his sights. Harrison stopped at the door, watching him go, then returned to Grace with smooth, even strides.
The waitress cackled. “Good job, Harrison, you scared ’em good.” She grinned at the two of them. “Now …” Her voice got soothing like a sweet mama. “You two kids just forget about that piece o’ trash and enjoy your dinner. The tab’s on me.” She patted Harrison’s cheek like a fond aunt. “Haven’t seen someone move that fast since you intercepted Ole Miss’s quarterback last October.” She raised her voice and hollered, “Harrison Jackson is in the house, folks.”
The entire restaurant cheered like Harrison had just won the national championship. Grace’s face felt hotter than a bowl of grits on the stove. Harrison gave an awkward wave, then got her chair. She settled into it and looked over at him, not sure if she could eat one more bite with the embarrassment rushing through her. To think she’d ever called Beau a friend. He’d been obnoxious at times, but never a complete jerk like that. He was the loser, not Harrison.
“I’m awful sorry,” Grace began, grateful when the music started again and the eyes turned away from their table.
“No, you just hush your apologies.” Harrison shook his head. “You can’t control the way someone else behaves.”
Grace inclined her head. She could control who she allowed in her life, though, and she was more than through with Beau. She’d taken care of him for too long and it was time to let him go. Harrison, on the other hand, was very welcome wherever she was. “Thank you for protecting me.”
“Anytime.” He winked at her and cut a piece of his deep-fried chicken strip perched on a waffle.
Grace tried to follow suit and eat, but nothing tasted as good as it had before, so she simply watched Harrison dive into the meal, offering him one of her shrimp, which he happily took. Their waitress came back to the table a few times, bringing them more drinks and fussing over Harrison. Grace was far from annoyed with the lady now and loved that she’d showcased Harrison for the celebrity that he was.
6
Harrison and Grace drove home in silence. The restaurant scene had made things awkward between them, and that made him far more ticked at Beau than being called a loser had. Harrison might not have been worthy of Grace, but neither was Beau—far from it. How had that idiot found them? Was he following Grace? Mobile wasn’t huge, but it was big enough he doubted Beau just spontaneously chose the same restaurant as them. Unless it was a restaurant that Beau and Grace frequented together often.
He noticed he was clenching the steering wheel tight enough to cramp his hand. He released it and shook it out. Grace had been much too quiet and he wanted to draw her out somehow. “Why do you want to adopt children instead of have your own?”
Grace turned to stare at him, and Harrison realized the question was too direct and personal. The silence stretched and scratched as she waited almost a ten count before saying, “I always wanted a brother or a sister, but for some reason my parents didn’t agree.” She sighed. “So I used to dream about adopting a sibling. Dumb, huh?”
“Not dumb. So your degree is in education so you can work with children?”
“Yes, but I’d rather be a school counselor than a teacher, help those who struggle. During college I was able to volunteer at a child and family support center and I fell in love with the children over and over again, but my heart also got broken repeatedly. There are so many who need a stable family, a home …” She gestured out the front windshield.
They’d just pulled into her tree-lined driveway. The setting and house were perfect for children to run and play. If Grace could get the house fixed up, maybe she could make it work. Harrison drove slowly up the lane, then put the SUV in park, but he didn’t make a move to get out. Maybe it was wrong to encourage her when she had a lot of work ahead, but Grace was determined. If anyone could make it work, she could. “You have a beautiful home to offer them, but I think your love and kindness are even more important.”
She gave him a brilliant smile. “Thank you, Harrison. That means a lot.” She reached for her door handle.
“Please, let me get it.” Harrison jumped out and hurried around to the passenger side door, pulling it open. Grace took the hand he offered and stepped down.
“I will say one thing for you, Harrison Jackson: you sure can move fast.”
“Lots of speed training.” He kept her hand in his as they sauntered up to the porch. Though the night had taken a bad turn with Beau, he still didn’t want it to end. It was beautiful outside, with the cicadas making their quick-tempoed beat and the fireflies winking at them. “Do you want to sit out on the porch a spell?” he asked.
Grace looked up at him so sweetly he almost kissed her right then and there. “I do, but I’m so tired I ache.”
Harrison knew what that kind of tired felt like. “No worries. Maybe tomorrow night.”
“It’s a date.”
She unlocked the deadbolt and Harrison swung open the door, then waited for her to lock it again. They walked slowly up the wide staircase together. “So what do we need to work on tomorrow?” he asked.
“Paint, paint, and more paint.” She sounded as tired as she said she was.
“Sounds like a party to me.” He wasn’t great at painting, though, and wondered if he was more hindrance than help.
Grace glanced at him as they reached the top of the stairs and ambled down the hallway. “Why are you really here, Harrison?”
“Pardon me?” They stopped outside her door and he looked down in confusion, but she didn’t offer any help. It was like one of the school’s sponsors asking him dumb questions like how he was going to change the world through his influence and “the power of the jersey.” He was a football player and an accountant, about the only way he could change the world was to be kind like his mama always taught him to be and look out for others. He used to think he would start sports programs to give underprivileged children a chance to excel at the sports they loved like he’d always loved football. Maybe someday, but not today.
He became aware that Grace was waiting for his answer. “Well, I’m here because Mr. Goodman asked me to be.” Shoot, that wasn’t romantic or kind.
Her eyes widened, then slowly dimmed and shuttered. “That’s what I was afraid of.” She pulled open her door and slid inside. “Good night. Thank you for being here.”
His body could move fast, but his tongue couldn’t. She’d closed her door faster than she closed off the emotions playing in her eyes, cutting off their conversation before Harrison could explain that while he’d come because of Mr. Goodman, he would stay forever because of her. Yet she wasn’t asking him to stay forever. Just because she’d looked up to him as an athlete didn’t mean she actually cared about him as a person.
Grace was focused on getting her house fixed up and her money secured so she could help children. She was noble and beautiful and Harrison wished he would’ve responded differently to her question. But would it have mattered? He was only here for a short time—the stud Mr. Goodman had sent to fix a problem. Grace didn’t really know the real him, and he doubted she ever would.
7
A rock pinged off her window and Grace’s eyes flew open. Dang Beau. It was their signal from when they were teenagers and he needed her help, but she had no desire to see him tonight or anytime soon. She stood and strode to the window as another rock hit it. Pushing it open, she called out, “Stop it, Beau!” It was then she noticed the orange glow in his hand, and her heart froze.
“Heya, pretty girl,” Beau called out. “Come on down and keep me company.” His voice
had a singsong quality to it. He was miles past drunk and holding a flaming torch.
She clenched the windowsill with slick fingers. Was he alone, or were his friends with him? He’d run with a rougher and rougher crowd the past few years. “Go home, Beau.” She tried to keep her voice a command. Sometimes he listened to her, even when he was drunk, but he could always sense the slightest weakness in her and twist it to his advantage.
She could see his scowl even from the second story. The angry lines in his forehead were outlined by the torchlight. “You come down and make me happy or I’m going to burn your stupid house down,” he snarled, looking like an angry badger.
Grace’s breath caught and she couldn’t respond for several seconds. The awful torch flickered, and though she didn’t think he could burn it down completely before she could get some help, she knew this old wood frame would burn quickly and the damage he could cause would be astronomical. He couldn’t hurt Sycamore Bay. It was all she had left. Maybe if she got close she could grab the torch or talk some reason into him.
“I-I’m coming,” she finally forced out. “Please just wait for me.” She backed slowly away from the window, keeping an eye on Beau. Could she talk him down if he was drunk?
Turning away from the window, she heard a loud whoosh and whirled back, terrified of what she might see. A stream of water sprayed from the house hose. She couldn’t see who held the hose, but she could see the look of surprise on Beau’s face as he and his torch were doused with a rush of water.
“Oh!” Grace cried out, happiness surging through her as the night went dark.
She sprinted out her bedroom door and down the back staircase. Running through the kitchen, she threw on the back porch light. Harrison stood over Beau, who cowered on the ground. She wondered if Harrison had hit him. Beau deserved a thumping with the way he’d been acting lately, but he’d been beat up enough in his life and it hadn’t helped him act any better. She’d be surprised if Harrison had hit him; it didn’t really fit the easygoing man she’d gotten to know the past few days.
Saving Sycamore Bay (Destined for Love: Mansions) Page 4