by Nora Roberts
“You know what I liked about this house from the first time I stepped into the kitchen? It’s the kind of place where it’s easy to make yourself at home. I wouldn’t want that to change.”
She continued to unload her bag, setting carefully chosen vegetables on the counter.
Grace had to bite her tongue to keep from mentioning that Ethan didn’t care for mushrooms when Anna set a bag of them beside the peppers.
“It’s your home now,” Grace said slowly. “You’ll want to tend to it your own way.”
“That’s true. And I am thinking of making some changes. Would you mind pouring that lemonade? It looks wonderful.”
Here it comes, Grace thought. Changes. She poured two glasses, then took the plastic cup from the counter to fill for Aubrey. “Here, honey, now don’t spill.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me what changes?” Anna wondered.
“It’s not my place.”
“When did we get to have places?” Anna demanded with just enough annoyance to put Grace’s back up.
“I work for you—for the time being, anyway.”
“If you’re about to tell me you’re quitting you’re really going to spoil my day. I don’t care how much progress women have made, if I’m alone in this house with four men, I’ll end up doing ninety percent of the housework. Maybe not at first,” she continued, pacing now, “but that’s just how it’ll end up. It won’t matter that I have a full-time job on top of it, either. Cam hates housework, and he’ll do anything he can to get out of it. Ethan’s neat enough, but he has a habit of making himself scarce. And Seth, well, he’s ten, so that says it all. Phillip only lives here on weekends, and he’ll make the argument that he didn’t make the mess in the first place.”
She whirled back. “Are you telling me you’re quitting?”
It was the first time Grace had seen Anna under full steam, and she was both impressed and baffled. “I thought you just said you were going to make some changes and you were going to let me go.”
“I’m thinking about getting some new pillows and having the sofa recovered,” Anna said impatiently, “not losing the person I already realize I’m going to depend on for my sanity around here. Do you think I didn’t know who made sure I didn’t come home to a houseful of dishes and laundry and dust? Do I look like an idiot to you?”
“No, I . . .” The beginnings of a smile flirted at Grace’s mouth. “I worked my tail off so you’d notice.”
“Okay.” Anna let out a breath. “Why don’t we sit down and start over?”
“That’d be good. I’m sorry.”
“For?”
“For all the nasty things I let myself think about you over the last few days.” She smiled fully as she sat down. “I forgot how much I liked you.”
“I’m outnumbered around here, Grace. I could sure use another woman. I don’t know exactly how these things are done, and since I’m the outsider here—”
“You’re not an outsider.” Grace all but gaped in shock. “You’re Cam’s wife.”
“And you’ve been a part of his life, of all their lives, a great deal longer.” She turned her hands palms up, smiled. “Let’s get this one thing out of the way so we can forget it. Whatever you’ve been doing around here works just fine for me. I appreciate knowing you’re doing it so I can concentrate on my marriage, on Seth, and on my job. Are we clear there?”
“Yeah.”
“And since my instincts tell me you’re a kind, understanding person, I’m going to confess that I need you a lot more than you need me. And throw myself on your mercy.”
The quick, easy laugh made shallow dimples flicker in Grace’s cheeks. “I don’t think there’s anything you couldn’t do.”
“Maybe not, but I swear to God I don’t want to be Wonder Woman. Don’t leave me alone with all these men.”
Grace nibbled on her lip for a moment. “If you’re going to have the living room sofa redone, you’ll need new curtains.”
“I was thinking priscillas.”
They beamed at each other, in perfect accord.
“Mama! Gotta pee!”
“Oh.” Grace sprang up and scooped a frantically dancing Aubrey into her arms. “We’ll be right back.”
Anna had a good chuckle, then rose, stripped off her jacket, and prepared to start her sauce. This kind of cooking—the familiar, the dependable—relaxed her. And since she had no doubt that it would earn her points with the Quinn men when they got home, she intended to enjoy herself.
It pleased her as well that she’d cemented a basis of friendship with Grace. She wanted that benefit of small towns and country living—the neighbors. One of the reasons she’d been restless during her time in D.C. was the lack of connection with the people who lived and worked around her. When she’d moved to Princess Anne she’d found something of the old-neighborhood ease she’d grown up with in her grandparents’ well-established section of Pittsburgh.
And now, she thought, she had the opportunity to become good friends with a woman she admired and believed she would enjoy.
When Grace and Aubrey came back into the room, she smiled. “You hear stories about toilet training being a nightmare for everyone involved.”
“There are hits and misses.” Grace gave Aubrey a quick squeeze before setting her down. “Aubrey’s such a good girl, aren’t you, sweetie?”
“I didn’t wet my pants. I get a nickel for the piggy bank.”
When Anna roared with laughter, Grace winced good-naturedly. “And bribery works.”
“I’m all for it.”
“I should finish up.”
“Are you in a hurry?”
“Not really.” Cautious, Grace glanced at the kitchen clock. By her judgment, Ethan shouldn’t be back for at least an hour.
“Maybe you could keep me company while I put this sauce together.”
“I suppose I could.” It had been . . . she couldn’t remember how long it had been since she’d just sat in the kitchen with another woman. The simplicity of it nearly made her sigh. “There’s a show that Aubrey likes to watch that’s just coming on. Is it all right if I settle her down with it? I can do the rest of the vacuuming when it’s over.”
“Great.” Anna slid her tomatoes into the pot to let them simmer and soften.
“I’ve never made spaghetti sauce from scratch,” Grace said when she came back in. “I mean, all the way from fresh tomatoes.”
“Takes more time, but it’s worth it. Grace, I hope you don’t mind, but I heard what happened the other night at the bar where you work.”
Surprise made Grace blink and forget to memorize the ingredients Anna had set out. “Ethan told you?”
“No. You have to pull on Ethan’s tongue to get him to tell anything.” Anna wiped her hands on the bib apron she’d put on. “I don’t want to pry, but I have some experience with sexual assault. I want you to know you can talk to me if you need to.”
“It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. If Ethan hadn’t been there . . .” She trailed off, discovered that thinking about it still made her cold inside. “Well, he was. I should have been more careful.”
Anna had a quick flash of a dark road, the bite of gravel against her back as she was shoved to the ground. “It’s a mistake to blame yourself.”
“Oh, I don’t—not that way. I didn’t deserve what he tried to do. I didn’t encourage him. The fact is, I made it clear I wasn’t interested in him or his hotel bed. But I should have locked up after Steve left. I wasn’t thinking, and that was careless.”
“I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”
“I could have been. I can’t afford to be careless.” She glanced to the doorway where the bright music and Aubrey’s brighter laughter came through. “I’ve got too much at stake.”
“Single parenting’s hard. I see the problems that can come out of it all the time. You’re brilliant at it.”
Now it wasn’t surprise, but shock. No one had ever called her brilliant at anything. “I just .
. . do.”
“Yes.” Anna smiled. “My mother died when I was twelve, but before that she was a single parent. When I look back and remember, I see that she was brilliant at it too. She just did. I hope I’m half as good at ‘just doing’ as both of you when I have a child.”
“Are you and Cam planning on it?”
“I’m good at planning,” Anna said with a laugh. “I want to give just being married a little time, but yes, I want children.” She looked out the window to where the flowers she’d planted were blooming. “This is a wonderful place to raise kids. You knew Ray and Stella Quinn?”
“Oh, yes. They were wonderful people. I still miss them.”
“I wish I’d known them.”
“They’d have liked you.”
“Do you think?”
“They’d have liked you for yourself,” Grace told her. “And they’d have loved what you’ve done for the family. You helped bring them back together. I think they got a little lost for a while—after Dr. Quinn died. Maybe they all had to go their own way, just like they had to come back.”
“Ethan stayed.”
“He’s rooted here—in the water, like eelgrass. But he drifted, too. And spent too much time alone. His house is around the bend that the river takes away from the waterfront.”
“I’ve never seen it.”
“It’s tucked away,” Grace murmured. “He likes his privacy. Sometimes on a quiet night if I went walking, when I was carrying Aubrey, I could hear him play his music. Just catch the notes on the air if the wind was right. It sounded lonely. Lovely and lonely.”
Eyes that were dazzled by love saw some things with perfect clarity. “How long have you been in love with him?”
“Seems like all my life,” Grace murmured, then caught herself. “I didn’t mean to say that.”
“Too late. You haven’t told him?”
“No.” At even the thought of it, Grace’s heart clutched in panic. “I shouldn’t be talking about this. He’d hate it. It’d embarrass him.”
“Well, he’s not here, is he?” Amused and delighted, Anna beamed. “I think it’s terrific.”
“It’s not. It’s awful. It’s just awful.” Horrified, she pressed a hand to her mouth to hold back a sudden and unexpected rush of tears. “I ruined it. Ruined everything, and now he doesn’t even want to be around me.”
“Oh, Grace.” Flooded with sympathy, Anna abandoned her chopping to wrap her arms tight around Grace’s stiff form, then nudged her toward a chair. “I can’t believe that.”
“It’s true. He told me to stay away.” Her voice hitched, mortifying her. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s got into me. I never cry.”
“Then it’s time you broke tradition.” Anna tore off a couple of sheets of paper towels and offered them. “Go ahead, you’ll feel better.”
“I feel so stupid.” With the dam broken, Grace sobbed into the paper towels.
“There’s nothing to feel stupid about.”
“There is, there is. I made it so we can’t even be friends anymore.”
“How did you do that?” Anna asked gently.
“I was pushing myself at him. I guess I thought—after the night he kissed me . . .”
“He kissed you?” Anna repeated, and immediately began to feel better.
“He was mad.” Grace pressed her face into the towel, breathing deep until she could regain some control. “It was after what happened at the pub. I’ve never seen him like that. I’ve known him most of my life and never knew he could be like that. I’d have been scared if I hadn’t known him—the way he tossed that man aside like he was a bag of feathers. And he had this look in his eyes that made them hard and different, and . . .” She sighed and admitted the worst. “Exciting. Oh, it’s horrible to think that.”
“Are you kidding?” Anna reached over and squeezed her hand. “I wasn’t even there and I’m excited.”
With a watery laugh, Grace mopped at her face. “I don’t know what came over me, but he was yelling at me. It got my back up, and we had a fight when he took me home. He was saying that I should quit my job and talking to me like I’d lost every working brain cell in my head.”
“Typical male reaction.”
“That’s right.” Abruptly angry all over again, Grace nodded. “It was just typical, and I never would have expected that from him. Then we were rolling around on the grass.”
“You were?” Absolutely delighted, Anna grinned.
“He was kissing me, and I was kissing him back, and it was wonderful. All my life I’d wondered how it would be, and then there it was and it was better than anything I’d ever imagined. Then he stopped and said he was sorry.”
Anna closed her eyes. “Oh, Ethan, you idiot.”
“He told me to go inside, but just before I did he said he thought about me. That he didn’t want to, but he did. So I hoped that things would start to change.”
“I’d say they’d changed already.”
“Yes, but not the way I’d hoped. The day you and Cam came back, I was here when he got home. And it seemed like, maybe . . . but he took me back to my house. He told me he’d thought it through and he wasn’t going to touch me again and I was to steer clear of him for a while.” She let out a long breath. “So I am.”
Anna waited a moment, then shook her head. “Oh, Grace, you idiot.” When Grace frowned, Anna leaned across the table. “Obviously the man wants you and it scares the hell out of him. You have the power here. Why aren’t you using it?”
“The power? What power?”
“The power to get what you want if what you want is Ethan Quinn. You just need to get him alone and seduce him.”
Grace snorted. “Seduce him? Me seduce Ethan? I couldn’t do that.”
“Why couldn’t you?”
“Because I . . .” There had to be a simple and logical reason. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’d be good at it.”
“I bet you’d be great at it. And I’m going to help you.”
“You are?”
“Absolutely.” Anna rose to fuss with her sauce and to think. “When’s your next night off?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Good, that’s just enough time. I’d keep Aubrey for you overnight, but that might make it too obvious, and we’d better be subtle. Is there someone you’d trust with her?”
“My mother’s been wanting to take her overnight, but I couldn’t—”
“Perfect. You might feel inhibited with the baby in the house. I’ll figure out how to get him over there.”
She turned around, studied Grace. Cool, classic looks, she mused. Big, sad eyes. The man was already a goner. “You’ll want to wear something simple but feminine.” Considering, she tapped a fingertip against her teeth. “Pastel would be best, a fragile color, soft green or pink.”
Because her head was starting to spin, Grace put a hand to it. “You’re going too fast.”
“Well, someone has to. At this rate, you and Ethan will still be circling each other when you’re sixty. No jewelry,” she added. “Just the bare minimum of makeup. Wear your usual scent, too. He’s used to it, it’ll say something to him.”
“Anna, it doesn’t matter what I wear if he doesn’t want to be there.”
“Of course it matters.” As a woman who had a long-term love affair with clothes, she was very nearly shocked at the suggestion. “Men don’t think they notice what a woman wears—unless it’s next to nothing. But they do, subconsciously. And it helps click the mood or the image.”
Lips pursed, she added fresh basil to the sauce and got out a skillet for sautéing onions and garlic. “I’m going to try to get him over there close to sunset. You should light some candles, put on music. The Quinns like their music.”
“What would I say to him?”
“I can only take you so far here, Grace,” Anna said dryly. “And I’m betting you’ll figure it out when the time comes.”
She was far from convinced of that. While new scents began to ro
mance the air, Grace worried her lip. “It feels like I’d be tricking him.”
“And your point would be?”
Grace chuckled. And gave up. “I have a pink dress. I bought it for Steve’s wedding a couple years ago.”
Anna glanced over her shoulder. “How does it look on you?”
“Well . . .” Grace’s lips curved slowly. “Steve’s best man hit on me before they cut the cake.”
“Sounds like a deal.”
“I still don’t—” Grace stopped as her mother’s ear caught the tinkling music from the living room. “That’s the end of Aubrey’s show. I have to finish up in there.”
She rose quickly, panicked at the thought of Ethan coming home before she was gone. Surely everything she felt must show on her face. “Anna, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I just don’t think it’s going to work. Ethan knows his own mind.”
“Then it won’t hurt him to come around to your house and see you in a pink dress, will it?”
Grace blew out a breath. “Does Cam ever win an argument with you?”
“On the rare occasion, but never when I’m at my best.”
Grace edged toward the door, knowing that Aubrey’s sit-and-behave time was nearly up. “I’m glad you came home early today.”
Anna tapped her wooden spoon on the lip of her pot. “Me, too.”
TEN
The following day as sunset approached, Grace wasn’t certain she was glad at all. Her nerves were stretched so tight she could feel them straining and bubbling under her skin. Her stomach continually jumped in quick little rabbit hops. And her head was beginning to throb in a sharp, insistent rhythm.
It would be just perfect, she thought in disgust, if Anna managed to get Ethan over, and she simply pitched forward, ill and babbling, at his feet.
That would be seductive.
She should never have agreed to this foolishness, she told herself as she paced through her little house yet again. Anna had thought so quickly, made up her mind so fast and put everything in motion so smoothly, that she’d been swept along before she could calculate the pitfalls.
What in the world would she say to him if he came? Which he probably wouldn’t, she thought, caught between relief and despair. He probably wouldn’t even come and then she’d have sent her baby away for the night for nothing.