“Ready?” He called back to her as he started the motorcycle.
“Yes.” Her hands fisted his jacket. He grabbed her hands and slid them around his waist, squeezing her hands. He eased the bike onto the road and stayed at a slow pace until she started to relax.
He kicked it into a higher speed, occasionally reaching to touch her hands reassuringly. He loved the feel of her arms around him, her thighs fitting snuggly around his hips. He grinned. Yes, they would be a perfect fit if they got more intimate. He turned towards the coast and relaxed into Grace’s arms. This he could get used to.
* * *
Grace loosened her arms just a bit, but didn’t want to let go of Xander. She watched the scenery go by and realized how at ease she felt on the motorcycle. She leaned with Xander, allowing her body to be one with his on every turn. Instinctively she trusted him. And the reassuring touches he gave her hands, and occasionally rubbing her leg, played a huge part of that trust. He cared that she had been nervous. He had started slow and increased speed only after she had relaxed a bit.
Grace’s thoughts were filled with the need to do more. She was tired of being the good girl. She reflected back to the telephone conversation that morning with the lawyer. He wanted to have her come in Monday for reading of the will. She was an only child. She figured everything had been left to her—that was before the lawyer said he was pushing it to Monday because he was still trying to locate the other heir. Fear had clenched at her chest, tightening her airway at the thought of someone unknown being close enough to her mother to be an heir. The news of another heir had almost led her to break her date with Xander.
Date? Was this really a date?
They rode for an hour before Xander pulled over at a rocky drop off. The view of the ocean amazed her. Grace shook her hair out after taking off the helmet. Turning to Xander, she simply grinned. “Wow.”
“Right? It’s spectacular.” Xander grabbed her hand, leading her to the guardrails. “There is nothing better than this to take away the stress and worries of the day.”
“Just what I needed this morning.” Grace squeezed his hand.
“Everything okay?”
Grace nodded. “Just some unexpected news this morning. Nothing I can’t handle.” She almost laughed at her words. She had no clue how to handle another heir to her mother’s estate. Who could this heir be?
“There’s a great restaurant about thirty minutes from here. Great seafood, if that’s okay with you?”
Grace turned back towards the bike. “Sounds perfect.”
They continued on and Grace felt perfectly at ease on the motorcycle. Xander was well aware of his surroundings and an excellent driver. She could have leaned against the back rest and not held onto Xander, but instead she kept her arms around him loosely, enjoying every touch between them.
Grace had always hated silence. She constantly had music playing whenever she wasn’t busy, or even just as background noise. She had inherited that from her mother. Abigail had loved music, all genres of music. Grace had grown up listening to big band music, jazz, classical and rock. Yet, on this ride with Xander, she enjoyed the silence. The rhythm of the bike, the humming as it ran over the road, brought a sense of peace to Grace that she had never experienced in her twenty-five years of life. She understood how Xander thought this was the best way to travel.
They pulled into a semi-empty parking lot outside a beat up building. As Xander shut off the bike, he grabbed her hands before she could get off. Holding them with one hand, he released the strap of his helmet and slid it off. She freed one hand, but Xander refused to let go of her other one. She mimicked his steps of releasing the strap and removing the helmet.
“What is this place?” She whispered close his ear.
“Only the best seafood you will ever taste.” Xander leaned back against her. “Are you ready for a new culinary experience?”
Grace caught her breath. She wanted to just hold on tightly to this moment and never move from Xander’s side. She nodded as he watched her, entwining his fingers in hers. She smiled and leaned into the contact. Heat scorched her, and she feared she would never recover from the flames that were igniting between them. She sensed he felt the same, as his eyes flickered with uncertainty. Had he never had an experience like this, either? She couldn’t imagine it. He was the bad boy type, one that probably had women falling all over him.
Grace felt his fingers slide from hers and he sat up, allowing her space to get off the bike. A rush of cool air brought the heat between them down a notch. She slid off the bike and stood looking at the building. In what she considered true Xander style, he placed his hand under her elbow and led her to the door. He had gentleman qualities. Surely he had grown up in a household that valued chivalry? Grace once again found herself wondering about his past and how she never knew him if he grew up in the same town.
They entered the building. Grace strained to see beyond them into the dining room. Lighting was poor, but the building was homey.
“Sit anywhere.” A voice called out from the bar against the far wall. Grace turned, not noticing it at first.
“Come on, over by the windows. Trust me, the food is much better than this place looks.” Xander escorted her to the table and held her chair for her as she sat down. The view outside the window overlooked the ocean. Waves gently lapped the rocks along the edge of the water. Heaven. Grace couldn’t think of another word that could describe this day so far.
“How have I never known about this place?” Grace questioned after they placed their orders and rolls had been placed in front of them.
“It’s advertised mainly by word of mouth, although I have been trying to get Rocky, the owner, to do a bit more marketing.”
“Your specialty?” Graced watched Xander as he seemed to pick his words carefully.
“One of my specialties, I guess. I have a marketing degree and do some freelance work from time to time.”
“What other specialties do you have?”
Xander grinned. “Taking good girls out of their comfort zone.”
Grace sat back, a thoughtful smile played across her mouth. “And what do you know about my comfort zone?”
Xander waited until the waitress had set down their plates. Grace’s shrimp and his scallops were still steaming, and the freshness beckoned him to dive in. He popped a scallop into his mouth and chewed carefully. “I know that conservative look you wore yesterday was a comfort zone for you. Your hair pulled back in a bun, making you look older than you are. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are with your hair down?”
Heat crept up Grace’s face as she shook her head. Xander reached for her hand. “Don’t be embarrassed, Grace. You’re beautiful and sexy. I have a feeling you haven’t been told that near enough in your life.”
Grace started eating the shrimp, making it impossible to answer. She glowed inside at the words he said even as her mind balked at them. He was right. No one had ever told her she was beautiful, except her mom, and well, that just didn’t count. Sexy? Well, that was not a word she would ever associate with herself.
“Anyway…what else do you do for full time work?” Grace finally spoke.
“That is my full time work, the marketing, I mean. I do the freelancing because I don’t like to be tied down in one place. I like my freedom to move around and meet new people, just experience life.” He sipped his beer. “I don’t have a lot of bills by continuing to move. It keeps my life simple, easy.”
Grace nodded. “How do you stand it though? Don’t you have family you miss?”
Xander sat back and watched her. “I can honestly say I don’t.”
“You don’t have family?” Grace was shocked.
“That I miss.” Xander stared out at the ocean. “Not everyone has a mom like Abigail.”
Grace reached her hand over and covered Xander’s. “I’m sorry. Everyone should have family they can count on to love them and support them.”
* * *
Xand
er flipped his hand, putting his palm to her palm. Their fingers melted into each other’s. “Thank you, Grace.” He felt her sympathy through her touch, saw it in her eyes and it cut him to the core. He hadn’t thought in a very long time, before this return visit to home, how much he had missed out on. His childhood was one of the reasons he had vowed never to have kids, or even marry. His parents were superb role models for a bad marriage and terrible parenting. He couldn’t fathom being as loved as Grace had been growing up. She had no idea what she did to him—not only bringing out the emotions, but physically, he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and let her know that he was okay.
At least, he was now that he had found her.
Grace had pushed her empty plate aside and watched Xander as he finished his beer. “Are you going to tell me who you are? You said your parents knew Abigail.”
“Grace, let’s not do this. You don’t remember me and let’s just start with getting to know each other as people who just met.”
“Wait. You said I don’t remember you. I did know you, then.”
Xander nodded slowly. “Our paths crossed a time or two in middle school. I left in high school for a private school.”
“Please, Xander, tell me who you are.” A look of frustration passed through her eyes. It tore him apart to cause her that frustration, but he was more afraid of her anger when she found out who he was.
“Grace, can this wait at least until we get back? Please?” He hated the vulnerability he felt when looking at her. He wanted her more than anything, and the thought she would shun him could bring him to his knees. Big bad Xander brought down by her. His best friend, David, would never believe it, or let him forget it if it happened.
* * *
Grace simply nodded. She didn’t want to push him. The pain in his eyes made her want to just hold him close and let him know it was okay. She had no preconceived ideas about childhood school mates she didn’t even remember. She wracked her brain for who she would have known that had moved away. She came up blank. They started their journey back home, Grace lost in thought hoping he was thinking of her as much as she was him.
Chapter 5
Grace unlocked her door as the phone started ringing. “Come on in.” She called to Xander behind her as she dashed for the phone. Xander closed the door quietly as he came in
“Hello. Yes, of course I remember you.” Grace stood listening, watching Xander. “Yes, of course. I will be happy to meet with you next week. You remember Abigail’s house. Yes, I understand I will need to move back in there. Thank you so much for returning my call. I look forward to your help.” Grace hung up the phone and leaned against the wall. Xander had not moved from the door, looking like he was ready to bolt at any moment.
“Do you want to come in and sit?” Grace pointed to the living room. She prayed he would stay, but knew he wanted to avoid any conversation around them knowing each other.
“Grace.” Xander crossed the hallway, stopping in front of her. His hands landed on each side of her waist, pulled her close to him. She raised her hands and laid them on his pectorals. His muscles twitched under her touch and she closed her eyes, willing herself to not throw herself at him.
“Grace.” His voice was a whisper, flowing over her, pulling her closer. His lips touched hers softly, gently caressing her. She leaned into him, parting her lips, her tongue stroking his. He groaned softly and broke off the kiss. “Grace, I should go.”
Grace stepped back. A wave of cold ran through her. He was running away. She drove him away. Her mind froze as she realized he watched her.
A soft sighed broke the silence. “Don’t. Please don’t. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I didn’t…”
“You were thinking it. Grace, I want to get to know you better. I’ll be sticking around for a while, until you tell me to go.”
“You don’t have to go now.” Grace’s voice trembled. What was she asking of him? Did she even know how far she could go with this?
“I need to. Grace, I need to get to know you and right now, I just want you…physically.” Xander kissed her quickly on the lips and turned towards the door. He glanced back briefly. “I’ll stop by tomorrow.”
She nodded and watched the door close behind him. It seemed like hours that she just stood there. Finally, shaking her mind clear she pulled herself together and took in her surroundings. Well, her mom’s friend, Hattie, was going to help her locate someone to help her clean out the house. She knew she needed to start packing up things in her apartment. She hated giving this place up.
Thankfully, being a teacher at the beginning of the summer meant she was free 24/7 to get things done. She only had a meeting Monday with the lawyer. Oh mom, what have you done? Who did you include in this will?
Her childhood home had been on the outskirts of town. Her parents’ property had abutted Mrs. Smythe’s property and on the other side had been the Stevens’. She never had met the Stevens family, only heard about them. They had heard they had two sons, yet Grace didn’t remember either one. One had been quite a bit older than her and the other only a couple of years. Funny, she hadn’t thought of them in years.
It had always been a taboo subject. With a sigh, Grace decided it was time to visit Mrs. Smythe and see if she knew who Xander was. She pulled her hair back into a long ponytail and headed to her car. It was too far to walk to her mom’s house, although she could use the exercise to work out some of this frustration building up in her.
She arrived at her childhood home. She just couldn’t bring herself to call it her home. This was a place she had left, moved on from. Why did she feel like she regressed? She opened the door and stepped into the foyer. The roses she had placed there a week ago, before her mom had gone to hospice, were dead in the vase. She grabbed it and headed to the kitchen. Rage overtook her as she tossed the flowers into the trash. She threw the vase into the sink, it shattering into a million pieces. How could her mom leave her like this? Cancer. That dreaded C-word that seemed to wreak destruction at every turn.
Grace leaned against the counter, tears falling from her eyes. A faucet inside her had opened and she felt powerless to stop the flow of tears. They poured out of her, a reminder of how strong she had been the past two years, doing the right thing, taking care of her mom even when it was nearly impossible for her to do so. She had hired someone during the day while she taught, but spent evenings and nights here. Her sleep had been next to nil and yet she pushed on and taught during the day, some days feeling like her eyes were full of sand and that she could hardly move one foot in front of the other.
Grace took a deep breath and quieted the flow of grief. She needed to move on. Abigail would not have wanted her to cry over her. She turned on the radio and the sounds of Louis Armstrong filled the room. She choked back the tears that threatened once again. Her mother’s favorite. Would it ever get easier? She thought she had done her grieving. Her relationship with her mom had not been the same since the chemo had pretty much cancelled out her mom’s ability to function in daily life. Two years had been a long time and Abigail had wanted to go. The last six months before her death, Abigail had slept nonstop and barely conversed with Grace. When they did talk, Abigail pushed her to do things after her death, made Grace promise to do things that she didn’t want to do.
Grace shut off the radio with a snap. Irritation surged in her and she knew realistically it was all part of the grieving process, but how she didn’t want her perfect day with Xander to be marred by being here at this house. Why had she come? The thought of Xander and Mrs. Smythe talking at the funeral, giving her permission to leave, came to mind. She needed to speak with her.
Determination pushing her forward, Grace headed to Mrs. Smythe’s home. She knew once she got her talking, Grace would have a hard time leaving. She prayed that it would be a story she wanted to hear. Fear slowed her steps at the front porch just a bit. What if she really didn’t want to know who Xander was? Why couldn’t she just let him be
the man that brought her happiness? Allowed her to do what she wanted and had no expectations of her?
Grace turned and walked back to her car. She didn’t want to know. She wanted to be free and Xander could be just that ticket to freedom for her. A spring in her step at her decision brought a smile to her face. She flipped on the radio in her car and for the first time in a long time, sang along much like her mother used to, out of tune.
Once home, Grace changed into yoga pants and a tank top. Grabbing a glass of wine, she moved to the balcony with a pad of paper and pen. Her life was about to be changed on Monday, once the reading of the will was done. She knew deep down that her mother had planned something that Grace didn’t want to do or be any part of. She took a deep breath and decided it was time she made her own bucket list and do things she had always wanted to do but never had the courage.
Her mind wandered to the past few years prior to her mom being sick. Her mother had always said she supported her, but it was support of whatever kept the right public view of Grace. She was not to run wild, not to do anything outrageous to draw attention to herself. Abigail had constantly reminded her of troubles that other kids go into and how it would mar their life even when they finally got their act together. Once done, it couldn’t be undone. Her mother’s favorite saying.
Grace sighed. She wanted to travel, see places she had never been. She cringed at the thought of doing those things by herself. She wanted to have fun with someone, not by herself. All her life she had been a loner. One that hadn’t been invited too much during high school because everyone knew her mother’s view on things and felt it was easier to not have Grace involved in parties or their times out getting into minor trouble. There was no minor trouble in Abigail’s mind, it was always black and white. No gray areas—ever.
She rode a motorcycle today. One thing she had always wanted to do. She had yet to start her bucket list and was already crossing things off. Her mind drifted to Xander. She was at ease around him. In her gut she knew Abigail would roll over in her grave at Grace spending time with him. She would have considered him a bad boy. He dressed the part, not caring less what others thought of him. Grace envied that.
A Fine Line Page 3