by Cara North
“He’s shook up but no worse for the wear. I’m more emotional than he is. We drove past the gallery, and it didn’t look good.” Megan was regaining her breath.
“This has to be devastating for him. He loves that gallery.” Grace sat on the bed and hugged a pillow.
“Grace, I’m worried. I think someone may have done this on purpose.” Megan sniffed. “It just seems too much of a coincidence that Chloe tried to fake a pregnancy, and now Emma is back in town. The whole chef thing, I used to think Chase was kidding, you know? But I think there may actually be a woman in New York trying to kill him!”
“Oh, Megan, I’m sure that’s not the case.” Grace clenched the pillow tighter. God, maybe moving to New York was a bad idea. Maybe she could convince Ethan to move here.
“Grace, I care about Ethan, but I love you. You’re all I have left.” Megan sniffed. “If he comes there, you have to be sure he doesn’t tell anyone! I mean no one! I can’t have him bring this to you.”
“Honey, don’t you worry about me. This is my town. Everyone knows everyone. I would know within twenty-four hours if a stranger showed up and stuck around.” Grace was touched by Megan’s concern. “I will make sure and put the word out at the bed and breakfasts though.”
“Okay. Just promise me you will lock your doors, Grace.” Megan caught her breath again.
“I promise.” Grace looked into the phone. Was everyone uncomfortable with the way she lived? She never locked the door unless she was gone. No one ever stopped by unless they knew her, and those people just walked right in. It was the way people lived here—safe, free. For a town that once harbored the most villainous of criminals, it now held the most adoring community.
Chapter 13
Grace had to kill time waiting for Ethan’s flight. She made a grocery list, stopped at the post office, and checked her PO Box—two bills and a letter. At first she thought it was a mistake, but it was addressed to her. The return address was the gallery, Ethan’s gallery. Grace hurried to the SUV and looked at the letter more thoroughly now. It was obviously Ethan’s handwriting; the letters were slightly slanted and small.
Carefully she opened the pretty blue envelope, expecting a greeting card, maybe even a short note, but it was a letter. The same handwriting on light blue paper with doodles along the top and left side and apparently a few within the text. God, he wrote me a letter. Grace smiled as she read the first line. Then, she blushed halfway through the second paragraph. By the time she finished, she was somewhere between an orgasm and tears.
Right then, she decided to do something special for him today. He would be there all week. She found out there were two art stores in downtown Morehead when she asked the lady at the gallery in Beaufort. One quick adventure then she was off to get groceries.
* * * *
Ethan arrived on schedule late that afternoon. He looked tired and weary. She wanted to thank him for the letter but decided it would be best to wait. Grace drove home as he dozed in and out of sleep along the way.
They didn’t talk about the fire. They didn’t talk about anything. She’d held his hand or patted his thigh, and he’d smiled and dozed off again.
Once they were home, Ethan pulled his bags from the SUV and hauled them up the stairs. The house looked completely different when he stepped inside. Grace had repainted the whole thing. There was a mixture of old and new furniture, fruit in the fruit basket, and vegetables on the counter.
“If you’re tired, you can sleep.” Grace spoke softly.
“I’m awake. I slept in the car.”
“So.” Grace wasn’t sure what to say. “What do you think of the paint job?”
“It’s nice.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Grace, you don’t have to walk on eggshells. I’m fine.” Ethan headed for the stairs.
Grace stood in the kitchen for a moment and puffed a big breath out then turned back and locked the door. Fine my ass. I know what fine means. I was the queen of fine! Grace marched up the stairs behind him.
Ethan dropped the bags on the floor and sat at the foot of the bed. He was exhausted. He had never felt so vulnerable in all his life. Someone had set his gallery, more specifically his home on fire. He suspected Chloe; then, he thought about Emma. He even considered Min, but the list of women he had rejected in his life kept growing in his mind. Never had he intended to hurt them. Never did he pretend they could be more than what he could give. Yet somewhere someone wanted him to suffer, and they were hell bent on making it happen.
Grace stood at the doorway, looking at this enormous man at the foot of her bed. His larger than life posture was slumped over, his head in his hands, his brown hair falling forward. She didn’t say a word.
Grace slid on the bed next to Ethan and gently massaged his shoulders and neck. Hopefully, he would just relax and take a nap. It seemed to work as the tense muscles beneath began to loosen.
“Come.” Grace pulled at him to lay back. “Come on, I can’t pull you. I barely got any sleep, take a nap with me.”
“I’m not tired.” Ethan yawned. He was like a cranky little boy instead of a grown man.
“I am, and I would sleep better if you were next to me. You can get up when I fall asleep.” Grace remembered this trick from her mother. Whenever she had a bad day or a breakup with Mitchell, it drained her. Her mother always said she was the one having the problems and would feel better if Grace would stay and nap with her. It worked then, so it would work now.
“Alright, I’ll lie down, but as soon as you’re asleep, I’m getting up.” He was firm in his resolve.
“Okay.”
The whole position of their sleep pattern was wrong. Ethan was on her side of the bed and she on his. He lay with his massive back toward her, and she pressed her nose in between his shoulder-blades. She stroked his hair and rubbed his head. Within minutes he was snoring. Grace didn’t move. She was tired herself. All of the excitement and stress had plum tuckered her out.
* * * *
Ethan woke with Grace in his arms, her head on his chest and an arm and leg draped across him. They were completely dressed, in her bed, and it was dark out.
“Gracie.” Ethan kissed her forehead. Having her there in his arms was more comfort than he wanted to allow himself at the moment. It felt too right, left him too vulnerable. The woman could break him, and she just might. “Wake up, Gracie.”
Her eyes fluttered open and a smile crossed her lips. “What time is it?”
“Late. I guess we both needed that nap, huh?” Ethan was more himself, relaxed, at least for the moment.
“I guess so. Are you hungry?”
“I can eat.”
“I feel like milkshakes, doesn’t that sound good?” Grace still hugged him, still basked in the warmth of his body and his scent.
“I was thinking more like dinner.”
“Oh, yeah, that sounds good, too.”
* * * *
Grace was almost finished with the salad when the doorbell rang. Ethan looked at the clock—it was nine—and then at the door.
“You expecting anyone?” His brows drew in together.
“No.” Grace shrugged. She wasn’t alarmed. She lived alone. Sometimes her neighbors would invite her for dinner or just bring a plate by. She loved them. They cared so much for her. The time was a little odd, but if her lights were on ... “Could be anyone.”
Ethan went to the door and opened it. The man on the other side seemed startled.
“Is Grace here?” Mitchell looked up at Ethan. He was told he was a big man, but this, this was a giant, a no good jock like Shane Black. Once he had spoken with Shane, the guy went right for Megan, ensuring Grace realized that this type of man would hurt her.
“You are?” Ethan didn’t budge from the door.
“A friend. A close, personal friend.” Mitchell always had an ego for a small guy.
“Those usually have names.” Ethan peered at the man.
“Ethan, who is it? Is everyth
ing alright?” Grace called from the kitchen now curious.
“It’s a close, personal friend of yours.” Ethan called back not taking his eyes off of Mitchell.
“What?” Grace really was curious now and walked to the door.
“Grace, tell this man I am welcome here.” Mitchell looked sternly at her.
Ethan’s jaw clenched. The tone this man used to talk to Grace was highly stupid given his current mood.
“My home is Ethan’s home. You’re only welcome here if he says you are.” Grace turned and left him at the door. She had confidence that Ethan would stick to their bargain, especially with Mitchell.
“You must be Mitchell.” Ethan looked him over head to toe and back. Mitchell was a stocky guy but shorter than Grace. He wore pleated shorts and boat shoes. His collared shirt was tucked in, and the brown belt pulled tight. He looked like a preppy little snot.
“Yes. Doctor Mitchell Patterson.” Mitchell could see this man was a bad influence on Grace. She tossed him out the other night like she didn’t care about him anymore. Now, tonight she left this jock to stand ground.
If he could get in there and talk to her, this Ethan would see where her loyalties lie. Grace was his, had been since childhood. She was plain and simple, and Mitchell knew he could do better, but he generally wanted what he couldn’t have. Right now, that was Grace.
“Well, nice to meet you, I’m Doctor Ethan Young, PHD, not MD.” Ethan reached out his hand and gripped the little weasel’s hard. Only idiots thought Ethan was a jock. Sure he played football and ran track, but he was an artist. He had spent a lot of years in college and graduated top of his class. He had been invited around the world to lecture at some of the best schools. This little man was treading on thin ice.
“Yes, uh, well, can I speak to Grace or not?” Mitchell shook his hand out once Ethan let go. He was nervous, not expecting the grip or the education.
“Gracie, do you want to talk to this guy?” he asked though he really wanted to speak for her and slam the door in this weasel’s face. He still peered at Mitchell as he waited for Grace to respond.
“Not particularly, no.” Grace shook her head. “We’re about to eat.”
“No, we’re about to eat.” Ethan stepped back and shut the door. The man on the other side was attempting to say something, but with the twist of the lock, he turned and walked away.
“You dated that guy?” Ethan was a little jealous. Why, he didn’t know. Mitchell was obviously too wrapped up in himself to really care about Grace, but the thought of her with any other man just seemed foreign.
“Almost married that guy. Would be married right now if he didn’t leave me in Vegas.” Grace laughed about it. “Thank God he left me in Vegas!”
“I just can’t see you with him.” Ethan shook his head.
“I’m not with him. I’m with you.” Grace tiptoed up to kiss him.
Ethan kissed her lips gently, and then he moved for the table. He didn’t deserve Grace. Mitchell definitely didn’t deserve Grace, but neither did he. Joshua deserved Grace. Joshua was a hero, and he was going to be a teacher. Shit, he was supposed to have been here that week. Not Ethan. He felt insecure for the first time in his life.
Grace could sense the distance between them. Moving the plates to the table, she decided to open him up again. By any means necessary. “Ethan, I really want to thank you for everything you have done for me.”
“I haven’t done anything.” Ethan felt like shit.
He felt guilty because he had caused her pain, guilty because he secretly wanted her to move to New York. Guilty because he knew she wouldn’t be safe there now. He wasn’t safe, and no one with him would be either. Only his close family and lawyer knew he was here now. “Except cause you heartache and headache.”
Grace looked across the table. She had just sat down. She stood up and looked down at him seated across from her. Her hand hit the table, and the glass plates jumped.
“Now, you listen to me, Ethan Young. You have been the best friend I have ever had including Megan. That heartache you caused probably saved my life. The headaches, please, you have never been a headache to me. If you’re feeling sorry for yourself, then you let yourself down, not me! You have never let me down, and I’m not about to let you start. Is that clear?”
Ethan was stunned. Grace’s eyes were almost green with fury. She was not going to let him have a pity party that was for sure. He looked at her in shock. She wasn’t afraid of him. Hell, at this point, he didn’t think Grace was afraid of anything. Her courage was contagious. It was also infuriating to get yelled at like a child.
“I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.” Grace peered at him.
“I hear you.” Ethan gritted his teeth. “Grace, please do not yell at me like that again.”
Her heart pounded. Ethan’s jaw was tight, and she felt like maybe she overplayed her hand. She wanted him to snap out of it and realize what he had in front of him. If he kept pulling back, she would lose him. That was not an option. Her voice softened and she sat down slowly.
“Well, talk to me, Ethan. God, do you think you’re the only one who’s hurting because of this?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t see how this affects you. It wasn’t your house on fire, your life’s work going up in smoke. Everything you ever loved turning to ash and dust before your eyes.” His jaw hurt because he clenched it so tightly. His words were deep and angry. The thought of losing his grandfather’s work was tearing at him on the inside, ripping him apart.
“You’re right. I mean why should it affect me that your house, your gallery was on fire, I mean the only thing I could think of the whole time was THANK GOD YOU WEREN’T BURNED TO DEATH IN IT!” Grace smacked the table again and ran upstairs.
SHIT! Ethan wasn’t looking at it that way. Come to think of it, his entire family had called by the time he got on the plane for North Carolina, and the voicemail for the gallery was full as well.
He thought they were concerned for how this would affect him. He was physically fine, so the thought of them being concerned about his life hadn’t crossed his mind. He headed upstairs for Grace.
“Grace.” Ethan knocked on the door again. “Gracie, please.”
“Opening the door doesn’t seem to be my problem right now.” Grace was being wicked. She expected a louder knock, some more anger. Maybe he would beg to be let in. Instead, he walked away. She sat hugging her knees on the bed. JERK!
Nothing worth having comes easy. Ethan replayed his grandfather’s words over in his head. He grabbed the screwdriver out of the top kitchen drawer and headed back up the stairs.
Thankfully, she left the place organized the same. Women are complex creatures. You rarely know what’s going on inside them. His grandfather was a wise man.
“Gracie, open the door or it’s coming down.” Ethan said it calmly. He was over his anger. He felt bad now he had been angry to start with. She was only trying to help.
“Huff and puff, big bad Ethan, maybe you can blow it down.” Grace was still furious.
He laughed, bent down, popped the pin out of the bottom hinge, and then the top. Thank God this place was old. Then, he pulled the door off its hinges and set it aside.
“What are you doing?” Grace’s eyes were wide open, her mouth agape. She was not expecting the door to come right off its hinges. It was frightening. It was dramatic; it was overwhelming, yes. It was Ethan.
“Trying to apologize.” Ethan walked in and set the screwdriver on the dresser.
“May I?” He gestured toward the bed.
“If I say no, are you going to toss it out the window?” Grace had relaxed but was still a little bent out of shape.
“Not with you on it.” Ethan sat on the bed. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Grace was still pulled up in her ball sitting with her back against the headboard and her hands around her knees.
“For yelling.” Ethan turned to his stomach and inched his hand closer to her toes.
“A
nd.” Grace wasn’t going to let him off easy.
He grabbed a toe and pulled one leg loose then toward him. “For being selfish, self-centered.” He kissed her big toe then the top of her foot. “Egotistical, well, a jerk.”
Grace hated that he apologized so well. Besides, she had yelled at him first. Who yells at a man this size and expects no retaliation? “And.”
“What else do you want from me, woman?” Ethan pulled her by the ankle to the center of the bed. He looked up at her, his head on her stomach. She was still determined and so damn cute with her pouting lip.
“You know what else you have or have not done.” Grace lay flat on the bed her arms still folded.
“Uh ... sorry for sending Mitchell away?” Ethan knew that would get a reaction.
“No, you should be sorry for ruining dinner. I could care less about Mitchell.” Grace pushed up on her elbows and was looking at him eye to eye. His devious smile let her know she just caved, and he loved it.
“I’m sorry I scared you. If it had happened to you, I would have been crazy with worry. I just didn’t realize you would be, too.” Ethan kissed her belly and looked back up at her.
“Well, if you fix my door, I guess I can forgive you.” Grace sighed.
Ethan pulled up over her, looked her right in the eyes. They were hazel again, a kaleidoscope of color, a natural state.
“Okay.” He kissed her gently, at first, then more passionate as she explored his lips with her tongue.
Ethan pushed back.
“I need to fix the door,” he said as he licked his lips.
“You need to fix this first.” Grace pulled him back to her lips.
They fell into a hungry dance, pulling at each other’s clothes, kissing, nibbling.
Then, the fire alarm buzzed. The loud beep sounded, and Ethan was on his feet and down the stairs. Grace was right behind him.
Smoke rose from the oven in a steady stream. Grace forgot about the pie she had placed in for dessert. The apple pie was on fire. Well, what was left of it was on fire anyway.
Ethan put out the flame quickly, and Grace stood shaking her head. “I am such an idiot! I am so sorry.”