“Babies!” She went right to them, with Jelly Bean at her side. The little dogs went nuts at the sight of him, and he instantly lay down in front of the crate. “Can I take them out?”
“Yes, but be prepared that we won’t get a thing done but running after them.”
“Jelly Bean will watch them.” Cassie unlatched the gate, and out spilled the furballs, led by Bitsy, who literally rolled into Jelly Bean’s paws. Jack went straight to the big dog’s behind for a sniff, and Gertie inched closer cautiously, glancing up at Grace as if she sought permission.
“Could they be any cuter?” Cassie folded to the floor and reached for Gertie, lifting her for a kiss. “Are you completely in love?” she asked.
“I’m pretty enchanted,” Grace admitted, abandoning the table full of wedding ideas to watch the dogs play. “They are worming right into my heart.”
Cassie looked up. “Kinda like Alex?”
“Whoa. Didn’t waste any time, did you?”
She gently put Gertie on the floor next to Jelly Bean and reached for Jack. “Hey, he’s my big bro, and I ran into him at Santorini’s this morning. Speaking of enchanted.” She grinned. “Never thought I’d hear him wax romantic about making wine, but there you have it.”
“He enjoyed the winemaking.” Grace couldn’t hide her smile.
“He enjoyed the winemaker.”
A thrill Grace didn’t even recognize zipped up her spine as she remembered how sweetly they’d parted yesterday after spending hours talking about nothing except the discovery of her mother. When he left, Grace had collapsed after the sleepless night before, a new kind of peace settling over her all night.
Had he mentioned that to his sister? That he’d helped her get one step closer to solving the black hole of her family roots? “Did he say anything else?”
“Just that I should butter you up.” Cassie took one of the leashes that hung on the crate and dangled it in front of Bitsy, making her jump and play more like a kitten than a puppy.
“Butter me up?”
“So when he calls and asks you to dinner tonight, you’ll say yes.”
Grace laughed. “I don’t think you’ll have to do much buttering.”
Jelly Bean put his paw over the leash, bringing it down and making Bitsy bark in his face. He barked right back, and she startled, then rolled onto her back, making Cassie and Grace laugh.
“Told you he could keep them in line.” Cassie pushed up, abandoning the dogs. “Like I said, he can do anything. I’m counting on him playing the role of the entire wedding party. Otherwise, we have to ruin the surprise, and I really don’t want to.”
Grace thought about that, watching the puppies play. “Alex and I really wanted to include the puppies in the event somehow, because Blue and Scooter went bananas over them. But they’re so small, I don’t know how.”
“One as ring bearer, one as a maid of honor, one as a flower girl? With JB as the best man!”
“It’s a dream,” Grace agreed. “But I’m afraid we’ll lose all control of these three. They are absolutely not trained.”
“Jelly Bean can teach them,” she said, utterly confident. “I’m telling you, he’s brilliant.”
Grace inched back, not believing Cassie could be serious. “They’re not even six weeks old. They’ll run all over the place and get lost in the vineyard.”
“On leashes?”
“Who’s going to…” Grace read the other woman’s expression, shaking her head in disbelief. “Jelly Bean?”
Cassie held her hand out. “Five bucks he can do it. Braden and I might have to work with him and the pups for a few days, but he can do it. He’ll bring them down those steps with me right behind them at least.” Her dark eyes flashed with joy. “Oh God, that is the wedding I want!”
Just then, Grace’s phone chirped with a call, stealing her attention. “Let’s…think about it.” She turned to get the phone, getting that little thrill again at the name on the screen. “It’s Alex,” she said to Cassie.
“Tell him I slathered you in butter and please say yes.”
Smiling, Grace answered, a little surprised at how her heart kicked up at the sound of his voice.
“Tonight, Gracie. Ricardo’s in Bitter Bark, seven o’clock sharp.”
She laughed and looked at Cassie, who was back on the floor with the dogs. “I guess I have to say yes to that demand,” she quipped.
Cassie reached over her shoulder to give a thumbs-up without even turning around.
“That’s only if you want to run into Cal Etheridge for an impromptu conversation.”
“What?” At the sound of Grace’s shocked voice, Cassie turned to look at her, and Gertie started barking. “How did you…what?”
She heard his easy, confident laugh. “Gramma Finnie came into Santorini’s after I got your text, and I asked her if she knew Cal Etheridge. Turns out Ruth, his wife, was in Gramma’s needlepoint club. She assured me that Cal and Ruth go to Ricardo’s for lasagna every Saturday night and sit in the same booth at seven o’clock. I got a reservation, and since I know the owner, he gave me the booth across from theirs.”
She choked softly into the phone, stunned. “Alex…I…”
“Just say yes to him!” Cassie popped up, holding Gertie. “That way, Braden and I can puppysit and start training the wedding party tonight.”
“Did you hear that?” Grace asked Alex.
“I did,” he said on a laugh. “She had me at ‘just say yes.’ You can explain the rest to me tonight. I’ll pick you up at six thirty.”
Grace opened her mouth to try to form a sentence, but why bother? Cassie was staring at her, Alex was waiting for her, and Gramma Finnie might have just helped solve the biggest mystery in Grace’s life.
“Yes,” she whispered into the phone. “There’s really no way to fight this family. It’s a force of nature.”
“Then just hang on for the ride, Gracie, and don’t fight a thing.”
* * *
“I feel like Ethan Hunt,” Alex said as he opened the heavy mahogany doors to the Italian restaurant that qualified as an institution in Bitter Bark.
Grace looked up at him, a question in eyes that looked particularly sparkly tonight, thanks to evening makeup and a bubbling excitement for what they might learn. “No clue who that is.”
“You’ve never seen the Mission: Impossible movies with Tom Cruise?” He leaned close to her ear as they stepped into the darkened restaurant. “Your mission, Ms. Donovan, should you choose to accept it, is to act like this meeting is a total coincidence, tell him your real estate agent mentioned the lawyer’s name only once, but you have a photographic memory, then use all your charms to get him to break attorney-client privilege.”
She blinked at him. “And if I don’t choose to accept this mission?”
“Then I…” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Will cover for you.” He turned to the hostess, who broke into a wide smile. “Mr. Santorini, how nice to see you again.” She looked down at her chart, frowning. “I thought you like that table by the window for two, but someone put you in the back with the booths. I’ll just—”
“No, no, the back is fine,” he said, holding up a hand. “I actually requested that.”
“Okay.” She pulled some menus, then glanced at Grace. “It’s noisy back there and not as intimate.”
Of course, he’d never sit in the noisy booths with a date, and he’d brought a few here. “This is great, thanks,” he said, taking Grace’s hand and whispering, “We like noisy and the right company.”
Grace’s return smile was a little nervous as she looked past the hostess, scanning the booths for their target. All Gramma Finnie had told Alex was that Cal Etheridge was as bald as the proverbial cue ball, and then she’d whispered that Ruth was a little terrified of him.
A portly, hairless man shoveled lasagna in the booth next to where they were seated, accompanied by a petite, older woman who picked at a salad. Bingo.
Alex and Grace sli
d into the seats across from each other, both of them glancing at the next table, but getting not so much as a look in return. Grace’s eyes asked the obvious question. How to meet them?
“I got it covered,” he promised, taking his napkin from under the silverware. “Ricardo will be out before we order. He always comes to say hello.”
“I’ve been here before, and he never says hello to me.”
“Fellow chef,” he said softly, unable to be heard by anyone else. “He knows I won’t order until he stops by to tell me what’s fresh and good. I do it for him when he comes to Santorini’s, and it isn’t nearly as fancy as this place. We’ll chat for a minute, and I’ll…figure something out to get the introduction.”
A slow smile pulled at her glossy lips. “I honestly couldn’t have picked a better partner for this,” she said, reaching for his hand. “Thank you, Alex.”
The compliment warmed him, and he turned his palm to capture her narrow fingers in his. “My pleasure.”
“Is it? I mean, you could be working on the menu for the event.”
“I have the menu planned.”
“Or hanging with your family.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday, and I’ll see them all at Waterford Farm.”
“Or on a date.”
He squeezed her hand. “And just what do you call this?”
“Mission: Impossible?” she teased.
“A perfect description for this date.”
“Because we’re so different?” She eased her hand out of his and slowly opened the menu.
“Because getting your attention wasn’t easy. And I still have to wonder if I ever would have if you hadn’t needed help with the puppies and a chef for the event.”
“I told you, you had my attention from the moment I saw you.” She nibbled on her lower lip, holding his gaze.
“Yeah, yeah. I scare you with my, what was it? Passion. Oh, and there are some guideposts that trip you up. I remember the conversation.” He inched his menu to the side and leaned over the table to whisper, “And yes, Gracie. This is a date.”
“There he is!” A man’s voice boomed from behind him, making Alex turn to see the big smile and snowy-white hair of Ricardo Mancini, wiping his hand on a chef apron before patting Alex on the back. “My fellow Mediterranean brother in the kitchen. It’s always an honor to cook for you, Chef.”
“And an honor to eat here.” Alex stood to shake his hand and add a quick hug, then turned to introduce Grace, an idea forming and making him say the next sentence loud and clear. “This is Grace Donovan, owner of Overlook Glen Vineyards.”
The minute he said the words, the woman in the next booth whipped to the right to look at them, as he’d suspected she might, and let out a soft gasp. Instantly, Alex turned to her. “I take it you’ve been there and know what an awesome place it is,” he said smoothly, while Ricardo greeted Grace.
The woman’s eyes widened as she looked at her husband, who seemed to have trouble swallowing his bite.
“No, no,” the lady said. “We…”
Ricardo turned his hundred-watt smile on the other diners. “Ruth, Cal, I didn’t see you there. How are you?” He stretched his hand out to the woman and did his back-pat thing to the man. “You’ve got to be some of my most loyal guests. Do you know Alex Santorini, owner of the new Greek place in town? He’s also French-trained and puts my pedestrian Italian to shame.”
They had no choice but to exchange introductions and handshakes, and include Grace, who slipped out of the booth to say hello, sending a quick look of victory and gratitude to Alex. He responded with a nod to remind her of her mission.
He saw her swallow some nerves and the smile falter on her face as she shook the bald man’s hand. “Calvin Etheridge?” she said. “The attorney?”
“Former,” he said brusquely, avoiding eye contact. “Retired now.”
“But I think we’ve done business together.”
“Small world,” Ricardo chimed in, backing away to let them chat, pointing at Alex. “Fra diavolo is on point tonight, if I must say so myself.”
“Done, Chef. Thanks.” He turned to put a hand on Grace’s back, subtly keeping her right in place at the Etheridges’ table.
“Yes, I’m sure you handled the sale of my winery,” she insisted, even though the man was obviously trying to brush her off. “I never forget a name. Calvin Etheridge. Surely you recall the Overlook Glen sale.”
Cal and Ruth shared a look that Alex easily interpreted: He didn’t want his wife to say a word.
The lawyer dabbed at his mouth with a red napkin, then set it down and fixed his dark gaze on Grace. “Miss, I don’t discuss business over dinner, especially now that I’m retired.”
“But I only wanted to thank you.”
He nodded. “You’re welcome. Enjoy your dinner.”
Grace’s back straightened, and her chin lifted imperceptibly. “And I wanted to ask if you would be kind enough to share some of the history of the place. I haven’t met anyone who knew the owners. The Hunnicutts, was it?”
His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. “Anything I could tell you, if I wanted to, which I don’t, is private and confidential under attorney-client privilege. Please don’t ask any more.”
“But can you tell me anything about…them? Their family? Their children?” Her voice rose with a subtle note of desperation, pulling Ruth’s attention.
“They’ve both passed,” the woman whispered, staring hard at Grace.
“Did you know them?”
“I…did.”
“Ruth.” Her husband’s voice was rich with warning.
“Well, it’s a sin to lie, Cal. I knew them.”
Cal whipped his napkin off his lap and tossed it on his plate. “We’re finished here,” he said, pushing out of the booth so abruptly that Alex and Grace had to step out of his way. “Let’s go, Ruth. Let these nice people have their dinner.”
Color drained from Ruth’s face as she removed her napkin and reached for her purse. Cal marched toward the front of the restaurant, unconcerned as a few heads turned to follow him.
As Ruth stepped out, Grace blocked her.
“Anything,” Grace whispered. “Please tell me anything at all.”
Ruth looked past Alex as if she expected her husband to lunge back and grab her, then put a hand on Grace’s arm. “If I could, I would. But I promised Bonnie. She was my friend.”
“Oh, please. Anything, any answers.”
“Obviously, you’ve found the answers. I can’t add anything, except you are the living, breathing image of your mother.”
“Why didn’t they contact me? The Hunnicutts? Why didn’t they—”
“Ruth!” The booming voice echoed through the restaurant, getting the attention of every diner.
“I’m so sorry, Gracie. I promised. Right in church during our Bible study, in the eyes of God. I can’t break that promise.” She hustled away, holding up a hand to quiet her husband, leaving Grace standing in open-jawed shock.
“She called me Gracie,” she whispered, her eyes filling. “She knows…everything.”
He pulled her into his arms and slid them into the booth, both on the same side. “I heard. We’ll find out more. Take a breath, honey. Have a glass of wine. We’ll get to her somehow. Our mission is not yet accomplished.”
Chapter Fifteen
She shouldn’t be here. Grace shouldn’t be pulling into Waterford Farm on a Sunday afternoon when she had a to-do list a mile long and a weight on her heart so heavy it had hurt to wake up that morning.
But Alex had asked her to come, and he wanted her here. And even though he used the lure of a conversation with Gramma Finnie about Cal Etheridge, she would have come without that opportunity. Because he’d been wonderful last night.
Over a dinner she barely remembered eating, he’d calmed her with kind words and unwavering attention. Afterward, they’d taken a walk through Bushrod Square, and he’d shared a story on the very spot where his mother and her brand-n
ew husband had actually broken up in college, unaware that she was a few days’ pregnant with Nick.
The family lore touched her, and when she’d wondered about her own mother and grandparents walking through the square, he’d let her imagine that and helped her through the threat of tears.
When he took her home and they reunited with the puppies, he’d marveled with his sister and her fiancé at how they’d managed to teach Jelly Bean to hold the leash of one puppy, confident they’d have him holding all three by next Sunday.
And when Cassie and Braden left, Alex had kissed Grace good night, stroked her hair, and held her for a long time, but then he left, too, sensing that this wasn’t the time to suggest he spend the night.
He recognized internal turmoil when he saw it, and his respect touched her.
But she did take the puppies up to her apartment, where she snuggled with all three of them as she finally fell asleep.
With all that fresh in her mind when she woke, it was an easy decision to text Alex that she’d come to Waterford for the family Sunday dinner. How could she not? How could she resist him…or the family that somehow enveloped her in warmth?
It was bittersweet, sure. But she’d started to get over the gnawing envy, which had already shifted to admiration. And her feelings for Alex? She’d gone well past admiration and was fast slipping into…
She let out a noisy sigh at the sight of him on the Waterford lawns.
Her feelings were fast slipping into something dangerous and risky and thrilling and real. She could end up hurt. She could end up annihilated. She could end up…loved.
Alex stood with a group of family members and dogs just outside of the kitchen porch of the big house, turning as she pulled into the drive, his smile visible almost immediately. He broke away and hustled down the drive, giving her a moment to admire the way his casual white button-down shirt fit his broad shoulders and how the hair that fell over his collar fluttered in the breeze. Every step he took was confident, masculine, and sexy.
She had no idea how much longer she could resist the man, or if she wanted to.
“Hey.” He opened her car door and leaned over, kissing her right on the mouth as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “You made it.”
Three Dog Night (The Dogmothers Book 2) Page 16