Wyatt smirked. “You hound dog.”
I pulled the steaks off and felt my face get warm. I was surely blushing.
My eyes went to the house after I closed up the grill. I couldn’t see Grace, but I knew she was in there—probably heating up her nasty brussels sprouts or helping Betty with the honey cake. She was in my house, and I liked her there. It’s where she belonged no matter what Betty or anyone in this town thought, and I was determined to keep her.
“Look at you. My brother’s falling in love with a city girl.”
“That girl is going to rip your heart out,” Wyatt said. “Trust me. Charlotte did the same to me.”
“I hate to say it, but Wyatt has a point.” Joe lowered his chin. “She’s leaving in four days.”
“Not to sound cliché, but I think I can get her to stay.” I immediately regretted the words as they left my mouth.
Wyatt and Joe glanced at one another and then gave me a puzzled look.
I knew Grace wanted me. And I wanted her. And at the end of the day, there was nothing complicated about that.
“What are you going to do? Lock her in the basement?” Joe chuckled.
“I got an extra set of handcuffs,” Wyatt teased.
Shaking my head, I laughed with them but it was forced because I was dead serious. I swigged my beer, imagining a life with Miss Grace Evans. I hoped I wouldn’t have to imagine it for much longer.
29.
Grace
While Betty sliced her honey cake, she hummed “Tiptoe Through the Tulips” by Tiny Tim; I found it quite unnerving. Charlotte brought the coleslaw, potato salad, and condiments out of the fridge while glancing over at me every twenty seconds as if on cue. I wanted to ask her what she meant by what she said earlier, but not in front of Betty. Betty seemed like a busybody and that was the last thing I needed. I poured the skillet of sizzling brussels sprouts into a large serving bowl. It was the second batch I heated up, and there was far too much for this size of barbecue, especially since Calvin hated them.
“So, Grace . . . do you feel like you got what you were looking for out of this vacation?” Betty slid a knife through her cake. It slapped against the cutting board, punctuating her question that was thinly veiled as innocent but I knew it was anything but.
Charlotte paused and looked to me, waiting for an answer.
“Not yet. Still have lots to do.” I brought the pan to the sink and turned on the faucet. The hot skillet sizzled under the water while a cloud of steam filled the air around me. It felt like I was in some sort of standoff with these two women—like they were Calvin’s protectors. Charlotte, the wannabe lover, and Betty, the stand-in mom. I understood wanting to protect the people you love, but they went beyond that. It had to be because of his parents and ex. Death made people paranoid and cautious—to a fault.
Betty gave a slight nod while Charlotte went back to unsealing the condiment bottles.
I decided this was the time to find out more about Calvin because he hadn’t been exactly forthcoming.
“What happened to Calvin’s parents?” I asked.
Betty squeezed her eyes tight, and Charlotte’s head shook from side to side. I had hit a nerve. Something bad had happened to them—that I was sure of. I could see it in Calvin’s eyes and Joe’s excess drinking.
Betty opened her eyes, flicking them toward me. “That’s not really a topic of conversation I’m interested in discussing.”
I had a feeling she wouldn’t tell me what really happened. These people were full of secrets, and it seemed they intended on keeping it that way. I shut the water off and put the pan in the drying rack.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“No need to apologize. Just know your place,” Betty said matter-of-factly.
The sliding door opened, and Calvin popped in. “Food’s ready, ladies.” He walked to the counter and leaned over the honey cake. “It looks as good as it smells, Betty.”
“Thanks, Calvin. Only the best for the birthday boy.” She smiled.
He strolled to me and slung an arm around my shoulder. “Your dish looks great too,” he whispered, planting a kiss on my forehead. I knew he was lying.
Charlotte’s eyes darkened. “Calvin, can you help carry some of this?” She collected the containers of potato salad and coleslaw.
Her eyes brightened when he glanced in her direction, always changing colors like a mood ring. Calvin couldn’t see it but I could. I knew what she was doing. She was the type of woman who would do whatever it took to get what she wanted. And what she wanted was Calvin. But I was in the way.
30.
Calvin
Carrying in empty serving bowls and a bag of trash, I found Grace at the sink washing dishes with her back turned to me. The barbecue had gone well, and it was actually nice getting everyone together again. I think Grace enjoyed herself too, which was all that mattered. I stopped in my tracks and observed her. I could watch her all day. The outline of her body curved in and out in all the right places. Her long blond hair was tied up in a high ponytail, giving me a glimpse of her slender neck. I wanted my lips on it, on every part of her, leaving no inch of her skin untouched or unmarked by me. She must have sensed me standing there because she snapped her head in my direction. Her shoulders tensed.
“Hey,” I said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s fine.” She relaxed her face and exhaled deeply. “I’m just a little jumpy.”
I wasted no time strolling over to her, wrapping my arms around her waist, leaving a trail of kisses along her neck and jawline.
Grace pushed into me and laughed. “Did everyone leave?”
“Yeah.”
She turned, facing me. Her teeth sunk into her lower lip. “Good.” Those blue, blue eyes seemed to double in size.
I leaned down and kissed her again. Wet, soapy hands wrapped around my neck but I didn’t mind. Grace kissed me back like she was hungry.
The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted us. Damn it. Grace and I immediately pulled away from one another. Char stood in the entryway, holding a wire basket with less than a dozen eggs in it. Grace turned toward the sink and submerged her hands in the dishwater.
“Hey Char, thought you left,” I said nonchalantly.
She looked angry—actually, more hurt than anything. Her eyes were shiny and red, which could have been from drinking beers all afternoon, but I hadn’t noticed them like that when she was leaving earlier.
“Yeah, I was but decided I may as well gather the eggs before I left.” She tossed the basket onto the floor. A couple eggs fell out and splattered against the tile.
“Jesus, Charlotte.” I threw my hands up.
Without another word, Charlotte stomped out the back door. Grace glanced over her shoulder and raised her brows.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, letting out a sigh.
I caught up with Charlotte just as she was getting into her car. My hand blocked her from closing the door, and I grabbed it, pulling it open. Tears streamed down her face while she scrambled with her keys.
“What is your problem?”
Char looked up with narrowed eyes and leapt out of her seat at me. “Me? Me? What’s wrong with you?” She shoved a finger into my chest.