by Loraine, Kim
Grace tried to lull herself back to sleep, but was unsuccessful. She eventually gave up and got ready to go for her morning run. The sun was peeking over the horizon as she tied her shoes. She was finally starting to feel adjusted, normal, and part of the community. People were friendly, coming by to say hello when they saw her at tea or while she was on a break from the site.
The restoration project was big news for the little town. Reporters from London were sniffing around, interested in the level of commitment Braley had to maintaining its historical status. She’d met with the owner of the manor house the previous day. As she’d hoped, the entire town needed restoration, not just the single building.
“Are you ready for me to send off an email to Bidwell about the project?” Valerie asked.
Grace jumped in surprise, her heart in her throat. “God, you scared the life out of me. What are you doing awake?”
Valerie shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d get a jumpstart on email. So, what do you think about the project?”
“The whole town is full of historical structures, many of which are crumbling. I’m pretty sure the town council is aggressively pushing to make it a destination for tourists who want the idyllic British village.” She chewed on her lip, debating on sharing her hopes aloud. “Depending on how the restoration of the manor house goes, I think we’ll be hired to supervise the entire transformation.”
“That’s exciting.” Valerie’s eyes twinkled. “And a little scary.”
Grace nodded. “That amount of responsibility is . . . huge. Especially when a whole town’s future depends on it.”
“So . . . what should the message be?” she asked, fingers poised above her keyboard.
“Tell him exactly that. There’s potential for a bigger project than what even he anticipated.”
“Understood. Have a nice run.”
Grace’s feet hit the pavement with a jolt and she remembered her frequent beachside runs with John. His hair in the sunlight glinted with gold strands, mixed with chestnut brown. She remembered the scattering of freckles along his nose and cheeks, so faint you would miss them if you weren’t looking hard. He wasn’t a classically handsome, chiseled-to-perfection man like his two brothers. He was unique, an asymmetrical and completely charming guy-next-door.
He used to grab her hand after their stretches and whisper run before taking off down the beach with her. His smile spreading wide across his face as the wind hit him. “It’s like flying,” he’d say, and when the wind was strong he’d let go of her hand and spread his arms out wide with his eyes closed.
Now, she couldn’t seem to get into a rhythm while running. There were too many new places to see, things to be cautious of, and people to say hello to. She wondered briefly if she should take the running path she’d used before. Thinking she could gain some focus on familiar terrain, she headed down a residential street on her way to the footpath.
Well-kept homes lined the street, their design suggesting they’d been built in the early nineteen-fifties. Manicured lawns and gardens illustrated a neighborhood of people with either time or money to burn. Cars sat in driveways and kitchen lights blazed in a select few homes. It was just now half-past five in the morning, after all. Most people would still be asleep this early on a Saturday.
The creak of a door opening drew her attention to the tall man who was stepping outside, clearly dressed for a run of his own. He put in his earbuds and set off ahead of her. Realization hit soon after, that this was the elusive Andrew Tensley. Without thinking about it, she tried to keep up with his long legs.
His pace was smooth and steady as she jogged about thirty feet behind him. It was a little faster than she was used to, but she needed to assure herself he only resembled John, not that he looked exactly like him. Her first impression hadn’t been the best and she wanted to clear her mind of any awkward comparisons for future conversations.
Her gaze wandered from her surroundings to his hair. She inspected it as well as possible, given they were both running in the early morning light. He had great hair. It was the same chestnut brown as John’s. Even from a distance, it looked soft and thick, and seemed to have a mind of its own, sticking up where it was long. That was different from John’s; he’d always worn his fairly short. Andrew’s build was lanky as well. He was tall, with strong shoulders and lean muscles, clearly formed from consistent running.
How are they so similar? John didn’t have any relatives living abroad. This can’t be a coincidence; that just doesn’t happen.
Her breaths came in labored gasps as she struggled to keep up with Andrew without him noticing her. She let her attention drift down the curve of his backside and the heat of a fierce blush rushed up her face when she realized she’d been caught. She lurched to a stop mere inches before colliding with him.
“Well, we meet again.” Andrew’s gaze met hers and a charming grin spread across his face.
“Yes, it would seem so.” She tore her gaze from his and looked down at her shoes, awkward and uncomfortable.
“You’re a runner, too, then?”
“Yep.” She peered back up at him, noticing his eyes were all-too-familiar.
“Have I done something to offend you? You seem very put off by me.” Andrew implored with a confused expression on his freckled face as he stood to his full height.
“No, nope. I just like to run alone. I’m not much for conversation. Need to keep my focus.”
His face fell slightly at her words. “Well, then, I’ll just be off. Nice to see you again, Miss . . .”
“Grace, Grace McConnell. It was nice to run into you, too.”
“Drew Tensley.” He offered his hand and she took it, a thrill running through her at his touch. “I look forward to our next run-in. That seems to be our pattern.”
She smiled and ran past him, heart racing and head spinning. Her mind was running a million miles a minute.
How can he look so much like John? He was almost an identical copy as far as she could tell. What are the chances of something like this? And why am I such a babbling idiot around him? I just like to run alone. What was that about?
As she ran home, her phone began to chirp.
Over the next month, Grace’s work commitments ran her life. She rarely left the cottage if it wasn’t work related, sending Valerie to run errands. Valerie accused her of being a hermit and avoiding seeing John’s doppelgänger, Drew Tensley. She couldn’t deny the truth in the statement, but wouldn’t give Valerie the pleasure of hearing those words leave her lips. What her friend didn’t know was that every morning while on her run, so was he. She caught a glimpse of him, waved hello, and sometimes even exchanged a few words. When she was running, she felt safe from having to hold a real conversation, but still got to see him and experience the thrill of excitement he elicited from her. In her zone, she could be pleasant and have an excuse for a quick getaway.
Each time she saw him, guilt washed over her, and she wondered if she was a glutton for punishment. The memory of John burned in her chest. She thought of his family and what they would say if they knew about Drew.
John’s two older brothers were firefighters like he’d been. They were close, all on the same crew at the same firehouse. Losing a fellow firefighter in the line of duty takes its toll on the house, but losing a brother had brought the Oliver boys to their knees. Shaking her head to free herself of the memories, she opened the door and walked out into the crisp morning air.
As the weeks passed, Valerie became increasingly involved with Mick from the construction crew. He’d been hired as the foreman to the restoration job and was exposing Valerie to the London club scene. Aside from working hours, Grace didn’t see her much. They crossed paths in the evenings after dinner most nights. Occasionally, they shared a bottle of wine while Valerie tried to get her to join the London nightlife.
“It’s just not my scene. I’m not big on clubbing. You know how crowds bother me.” This was her mantra.
Valerie would roll her eyes and wave her off. This morning, she’d invited her out for a trip to see the sights. When Grace declined yet again, Valerie finally snapped.
“Denying yourself any kind of fun is not honoring John’s memory, Grace. Stop hiding behind him.”
Grace had no words. Her shocked expression must have said it all.
Valerie’s face softened immediately and she turned to gather her coat. “I’m sorry.” She looked down at the floor. “I just . . . it’s hard to see you avoiding life. He’s been gone over a year. You’re not cheating on him, you know.”
Grace nodded and took a deep breath, working to control the anger threatening to boil over. “Do you think I don’t know that? Every day I wake up knowing he’s gone. Feeling the pain of losing him all over again. Go on, have a great time. Excuse me if my loss clouds your fun.” The sarcasm in her voice was hard to miss.
Valerie set her coat down. “Grace . . .”
“No. You know what? I need some time. Go and have fun. I’m going out for a walk.”
Grace shoved past her and snatched her keys from the counter. Her feet slipped easily into her unlaced running shoes and she was out the door before Valerie could say anything else.
Chapter 4
Drew craned his neck as he ran, looking for the telltale swing of the deep, coffee-colored hair that Grace McConnell kept high on her head while running. He wasn’t stalking her, he hoped, but he needed to see her. His running schedule, once a strict lunchtime activity, had altered, based on one chance encounter.
Due to an emergency adjustment in staffing at the grocery, his hours had shifted from early to late. Still trying to acclimate, he’d woken with the sun and decided to start his day with a run rather than skip it all together. That was when his world had shifted. He’d changed from a man, mildly interested, to confused, flustered, and achingly obsessed.
His mind spun with thoughts of her, visions of her gorgeous mouth, formed in an O of surprise when she’d almost knocked him arse-over-teakettle for the second time. He felt lust rising at the memory and bumped up the volume of his music for distraction. He wasn’t an early morning runner as a rule, but after seeing Grace that first morning, he’d told himself mornings weren’t so bad.
I’m not a stalker, he kept reminding himself.
He scanned the footpath and kept up his pace.
His phone buzzed and he sighed in frustration as he pulled it out of his pocket to see an incoming call from Sarah. Again. He hit the ignore button and put his phone back. Part of him was annoyed to have her bothering him constantly since her latest break up. The egotistical part of him, however, was boosted by the knowledge of her interest after all this time. They’d been divorced almost six years now and the hurt was still there, reaffirmed every time she tried to worm her way back into his life. He knew the best tactic in her case was radio silence. Her manipulative ways usually threw his life into a tailspin.
Disappointment seeped in as he reached the half-way mark and headed home. He wanted to see Grace, needed a glimpse of her perfection. Their brief interactions were the highlight of his days.
Rounding a corner, his breath caught in his chest. She was there. Beautiful, bathed in the golden rays of the early morning light, stretching her back with her arms raised high above her head. He slowed as he approached. Her eyes were closed as she clearly enjoyed the stretch. When she opened them, a wave of arousal shot straight through him. Wanker, he thought as she trained her eyes on his. He squirmed slightly, wondering if she could sense his ungentlemanly thoughts.
“Morning.” He had to work to get the simple greeting past his lips.
“Morning, Drew. Nice to see you.” Her eyes were tense. It seemed as though she was trying too hard to talk to him, as if having contact was painful. She was so puzzling.
“You as well, Grace.” He stood there, taking in her fitted running clothes, pink trainers, and matching top. Her hips swayed enticingly as she walked past him. He wanted to ask if he could join her, even though he’d already finished a five-mile run. His hands itched to brush aside a piece of her hair, which had come loose from her ponytail, wanting to feel her skin to see if it was as soft as it looked. He wished she wasn’t so skittish. Not understanding why she wouldn’t say more than a few words was killing him.
Ask her out. Go on.
Before she got out of his view, he mustered all of his courage and shouted, “Have dinner with me?”
She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. “What?”
“Dinner? You, me?”
“I understand the concept, Drew.” Her face was a carefully composed mask.
“I just, well, I thought it might be nice. You know, a proper chat.”
Grace pondered his words for what seemed like a millennium. “I guess that would be fine.”
He forced himself to control the ridiculous grin spreading across his mouth. “Brilliant. Tomorrow night? I’ll come round to get you.”
She nodded, a slight hint of bemusement on her face. “That sounds nice. Around seven?”
“Right, yes. I’ll see you then.”
“I’m this way so . . .” She gestured awkwardly in the opposite direction he was going. “Um, have a nice day,” she called, smiling too brightly.
“Ta,” he responded, slightly breathless.
He watched her leave, knowing he was done for. He wanted her. All of her. There was no possibility of him keeping his hands off her. Fingers clenched, he thought of the curves encased in those tight running pants, her breasts pressing against her shirt as she stretched, lifting the fabric slightly to show a toned belly and a tucked-in waist. He groaned as his mind and heart zeroed in on the same thing.
“Oh, bleeding hell,” he said as he shook his head and jogged back to his house for another cold shower.
“Dinner? You’ve got a date?” Valerie was clearly shocked. “With Drew?”
Grace’s face flamed. “Yes. No. No, I don’t think it’s a date. He just wants to have a proper chat.”
Valerie smirked. “It’s totally a date!”
“Just shut up and help me find something to wear.”
She rifled through her drawers, searching for something that didn’t scream date, but wasn’t too professional architect. She finally settled on a thin sweater in deep burgundy over a pair of black cropped pants. Her hair was not so easily managed. After struggling with the unruly waves, she gave up and piled it on top of her head in a messy bun.
“You look hot. Keep your hair down, though. It’s so pretty.” Valerie was rummaging under Grace’s bed, searching for the right shoes.
Frustration and an uneasy feeling took hold. “Don’t you think this is kind of weird?”
Valerie’s blond head popped up over the edge of the bed. “What?”
“Come on. He looks just like John.”
She shrugged. “That’s just a bonus. What’s the harm in getting to know the guy? It’s not like you’re marrying him. Maybe it will help you move past John.”
Grace considered the question for a moment. “I guess you’re right. I just think it’s weird.” She lowered her eyes and picked at her cuticles. “How am I supposed to move on if I fall for him all over again?”
Valerie plopped down on the bed, leopard-print platform wedges in her hands. “Look, it’s only as weird as you make it. From what I’ve seen, he’s a very nice guy who just happens to look exactly like John. You’re not falling for John again. That’s already happened. The real question is, does it hurt too much to look at him? Yes, it’s a strange coincidence. But you need to decide if it’s too painful to be with him. Either way, you need to get out there, meet people, make friends. Stop working so m
uch and enjoy your life.”
Sometimes Valerie could be so insightful. Grace’s heart thudded against her chest as she thought of Val’s question. Does it hurt too much?
A light knock on the door sent shivers of apprehension through her as she crossed the living room to answer the door. Drew looked amazing and so much like John her breath hitched. Dressed in a deep-blue corduroy blazer, a white button-down shirt, and jeans, he looked more put together than she’d ever seen him. His hair was still haphazardly tousled, but it looked like he’d put in some effort to tame it. She smiled at the memory of John trying desperately to flatten his disobedient hair in the weeks between haircuts.
“Grace, you look lovely.” Drew’s expression melted her heart and banished all thoughts of John. His eyes were wide and filled with an innocent look of wonder.
“Thanks. You look nice, too.”
“Shall we, then?” He reached for her arm and sent a warm smile in Valerie’s direction. “Hello, Valerie.”
Valerie grinned and waved. “See you later. Have fun!”
Drew took her to a small Indian restaurant called Nirvana. The air was warm and smelled of delicious spices and curry, the close quarters increasing the intense aroma.
“This place is so tiny. I didn’t even know it was here.” She marveled at the setting. The space only housed five tables and was completely full.
“There’s more upstairs. That’s where we’re going.”
“Upstairs?” She followed him up the steep staircase to a rooftop dining area. The room was enclosed in glass, affording a view of the town around them. The tables were filled with diners, happily eating their meals and enjoying conversation.