Chapter 12
Michael
I tapped my hands on the steering wheel in time to the beat spilling out of my SUV’s sound system.
I was amped up, ready to go. Anxious to see Grace and spend time with her. We wouldn’t be alone, but I’d be with her. That was good enough for me.
I hadn’t seen her for weeks. I’d talked or texted with her every day but hadn’t spent any time in person with her.
Part of that had been by design. I’d wanted to give her space to settle in and get her bearings. Mercy told me Grace was doing great, so I’d stayed at a distance. I couldn’t go without contact, but I’d made myself be happy with our daily call or texts. At first, I’d always been the one who reached out but then Grace had started to, as well. I’d been stupidly excited the first time she’d texted me first. I was just thankful I was alone when it happened so no one else saw the victory fist I’d thrust in the air.
The other reason I hadn’t seen Grace was my schedule. We’d hired two new cooks at the pub – one to replace the guy we fired and one to replace the guy who went home that same day and never came back – but it had taken a couple weeks, and they were still in training. Jamey and I had both been carrying the load, and some of the other staff had stepped up, too. With one thing and another, this was the first day off I’d had.
Thanks to Mercy, I not only got to spend it with my family, I got to spend it with Grace.
I parked in a spot near her building, keyed in the code for the building’s front door, and jogged up the stairs to her floor, feeling like a kid buzzing on too much sugar as I knocked.
I heard quick footsteps then the door swung open.
Grace looked beautiful. She was dressed casually in a sweater and jeans with her hair up in a ponytail, but her brown eyes shone, her cheeks were pink, and the shadows under her eyes were gone.
She caught me staring and looked down to check herself as she stepped back to let me in.
“What? Did I spill something?”
“No.” She looked back up at me. “You just look happy.”
Gorgeous. Soft. Radiant. Edible.
She smiled as her cheeks pinked up a little more. “I guess I am. Happy, I mean. Well, I don’t guess...I am.”
I cleared my throat, trying to rein in my brain as I followed her across the space to the kitchen. “That’s good. It looks good on you.”
“Thanks,” she said a little shyly, then turned to indicate the containers that sat on the counter. “I couldn’t decide between caramel and raspberry, so I made both.”
Grace had offered to make dessert for today and I’d gratefully accepted. I could have made a quick batch of bar cookies or a cake this morning, but with Grace taking care of it, it was one less thing to worry about.
When we’d talked the day before, Grace had decided to make fudge brownies but had been debating whether to do caramel filling or raspberry filling.
“I doubt you’ll hear any complaints, and you probably won’t have any leftovers. You might want to grab a couple out to leave here if you want any.”
“It’s possible that I may have already had one of each with my coffee for breakfast,” she said with a little grin.
“No judgement here.” I lifted the containers while Grace got her bag. I waited for her to lock her apartment door behind us, then followed her down to my car. I held her door for her, set the brownies on the back seat, then settled in my own seat.
It was just after noon and the streets were still relatively quiet. We rode in comfortable silence for a few miles, then Grace turned a little in her seat to face me.
“Tell me about you and your cousins. Like who’s oldest, all that stuff.”
“Levi’s the oldest. He’s five years older than me and Mercy. Ace and Ry are in the middle. They’re both two years younger than Levi. Then like I said, me and Mercy. Levi’s thirty-five, Ace and Ry are both thirty-three, and Mercy and I are both thirty. Technically Mercy is the baby. I’m older than her by about six weeks.”
“But Ry’s not actually related, is he?”
“Not by blood, no, but he might as well be. He’s been part of the family for as long as I can remember. He practically lived at my cousins’ house growing up. Levi, Ace, and Ry have always been a set. You see one, sooner or later you see the other two.”
“And you? You all seem close.”
“We are. I’m closest to Mercy, but the guys are like brothers to me. I’m the black sheep for not joining the family business, but they still let me come around.”
Grace’s light laugh stroked across my skin like a touch. “How long has it been the family business?”
“The construction part maybe...” I calculated in my head... “twelve years? The property management part closer to seven, maybe eight.”
“Oh.” I glanced over at Grace. She saw me looking and shook her head a little. “When you said ‘family business’, I was thinking it had been generations, but I don’t know why I assumed that.”
“No, it was Levi’s brainchild. He worked construction whenever he could in high school and college, and always wanted his own company so he could do things his own way. He got the others on board and Baron Properties was born.”
“But you didn’t want to do that?”
“No. I’m a cook through and through. I always said I wanted to be a chef growing up and it stuck. I don’t want to do anything else.”
“Have you ever thought about having your own restaurant?”
“Maybe. But seeing what Jamey has to deal with, I don’t think so. I do some admin work, but I still get regular time in the kitchen, and I have a lot of freedom. It’s the best of both worlds.”
I could see another question on the tip of her tongue, but I interjected. “Your turn now. What did you want to be when you were growing up?”
“A butterfly. Or a horse. I couldn’t decide.”
I laughed as I looked over at Grace. “That’s two ends of a wide spectrum.”
Grace shrugged. “I was keeping my options open. I was bitterly disappointed when I found out I couldn’t be either. I kind of boycotted the whole idea of growing up for a while, then decided I wanted to be a professional roller skater.”
She shook her head like she was remembering back. “I spent hours in our driveway and basement working on skills and tricks.”
“I bet you were cute.”
“I was a disaster. I was covered in scrapes and bruises from falling. Finally, my dad had enough and took my skates away. And that was that.”
She said it so matter of factly but my heart squeezed for little Grace, deprived of her dreams once again.
“Then in high school I started waiting tables, then working in the kitchen – which I already told you about – and here we are.”
“Here we are,” I agreed. She didn’t elaborate but I hoped she was okay with where she was. She seemed like it based on our earlier conversation, so I didn’t push.
Our conversation turned to other topics and about half an hour later I was pulling into Levi’s driveway.
I turned off the car, then laid my hand on Grace’s arm as she reached for her door. “Let me get your door for you, okay?”
She gave me a look, not seeming annoyed, just curious. “You don’t have to do that, you know. Hold the door for me, I mean.”
I acknowledged her words with a nod. “I don’t, but I’d like to. If you’ll let me.”
She exhaled quietly. “Okay, then. If it’s something you want to do.”
I exited the car, grabbed the brownies from the back seat, then circled around for Grace’s door. Once she was out, I closed it behind her, then led the way up to the porch. I knocked twice then pushed the door open, and Grace followed me in.
I heard voices from the kitchen so I yelled out “It’s Michael and Grace,” then started that way, thinking I liked the sound of my name linked with Grace’s like that a little more than I probably should.
We found Mercy and Levi in the kitchen, Mercy supervising while Levi pulled two huge pans of macaroni and cheese from the oven.
“Wow, that looks good.” Grace eyed the pans of bubbling cheesy goodness the way I probably eyed her when I wasn’t watching myself. “Can everyone in your family cook?”
“Not Ace,” Mercy, Levi, and I said in unison, surprising a laugh out of Grace.
“It’s true,” Levi said as he slid the oven mitts he’d used back into a drawer. “He almost burned the house down trying to hard boil eggs one time and before you ask, we have no idea.”
“And that was far from his first cooking disaster,” Mercy joined in. “Now he’s allowed to make toast, pour cold cereal, and warm things up in the microwave. It’s safest for everyone.”
We heard the front door open, then a few seconds later Ace strolled into the kitchen followed by Ry, each carrying a case of beverages.
“Here’s the man himself,” I said. “Grace, this is Asa, who everyone calls Ace. Ace, this is Grace.”
Ace set down the case he held and looked from one of us to the other. “You’re telling cooking stories about me, aren’t you?” None of us responded but he knew. “Damn, don’t even let a guy get in the room before you’re ganging up on him.” He shook his head pitifully as he crossed to Grace and held out his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Grace.”
“Nice to meet you, too.”
Still holding her hand, Ace leaned in like he had a secret to share with Grace. “I’m not as bad as they say I am.”
“Yes, you are,” we all chorused again, this time joined by Ry. Ace flipped us all off, making us laugh, then turned to shove cans of beer and other beverages into a big cooler of ice that sat on the counter.
He grumbled, mostly good naturedly, while we continued to rib him, and he gave back as good as he got. Through it all I watched Grace, curious to see her reaction to Ace.
Ace was, in the words of one of Mercy’s friends, “male perfection”. I had no idea what that meant exactly, but what it translated to was that Ace was to women what catnip is to cats.
All of us looked a lot alike. Even Ry blended in with us enough that many people assumed he was related in some way. I was the biggest by a small margin, though Levi was a close second and Ace and Ry weren’t far behind. Mercy, fortunately for her, had her mother’s frame, a little taller than average for a female, but thankfully nowhere near as broad or tall as her brothers or me.
All together, we were a pretty good-looking bunch. We’d heard it enough throughout our lives to know it was true.
But Ace – he was on a different level. A level where women tripped over themselves, walked into things, and once even almost wandered out into traffic – thank God her friend was right there to grab her – because they couldn’t take their eyes off him. He often downplayed his looks, but even when he was scruffy and a little grungy, it still happened. In fact, some women seemed to like that even better.
The weirdest thing to me was the things people assumed about him because of his looks. That he was an asshole, or conceited, or a playboy. That he dated only models, or divas, or didn’t date at all – just slept his way through an endless string of women, screwing them then walking away.
None of it was even close to true. But still, some people, especially women, took one look at him and believed it all. They were either fascinated, nearly mesmerized by him, or they pre-judged him to be a jerk.
So, yeah, I watched Grace, not out of jealousy or concern, just wondering what her take would be. When Ace first walked into the kitchen her eyes had widened a little and she’d blinked a few times like she wasn’t sure what she was seeing. She’d blushed a little as they’d shaken hands, but that was just Grace.
Now, as we all moved out of the kitchen into the great room, she seemed to be taking his presence in stride. She was laughing with Mercy over something, sipping a flavored seltzer. She wasn’t shooting glances Ace’s way or seeming affected by him at all. In fact, the only one she seemed to scan the room for was me.
When she caught me looking back at her, she gave me that little smile that lit up her eyes, then went back to her conversation with Mercy.
As the minutes passed, any concern I may have felt about the day faded away. I liked having Grace here, liked having her with me, and she seemed to like being here.
––––––––
H OURS LATER, LOADED down with leftover mac and cheese, but sadly no brownies, Grace and I said our good-byes. The light was starting to fade, and I watched for deer as we made our way out of Levi’s neighborhood and back to the main road.
“You have a wonderful family, Michael.”
I looked over at Grace slouched comfortably in the passenger seat. “Thanks, I think so, too. You seemed to enjoy yourself today.”
I should know. I’d barely taken my eyes off her. If she’d noticed, she hadn’t shown it.
“I did. I was nervous, but I didn’t need to be.”
She shifted, rubbing her hands over her arms like she was cold. I reached in the back seat, snagged a sweatshirt I knew I’d left back there, and handed it to her.
She took it with a question in her eyes.
“You looked cold,” I explained. She watched as I bumped the heat up a little on the dash, then slowly folded the sweatshirt around herself.
“I am,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”
“Sure thing.” I glanced over at her again. She seemed off. “Everything alright, Grace?”
“Yes.” She looked at me, then away. “Yes, I’m...”
The sound of chimes filled the space, cutting off whatever she’d been about to say. She bent and reached for her bag on the front floorboard.
“Sorry, that’s my phone. It must be Mercy.” She stopped, frowning as she looked at the screen. “It’s not Mercy, it’s Vanessa.”
Vanessa? “From Barney’s diner?”
Grace nodded in response as she tapped to connect the call and held the phone to her ear. “Vanessa?”
She listened for a few seconds, her frown deepening.
“He said what? Wait a minute. I’m with Michael. I’m going to put you on speaker.” She pulled the phone away from her ear and tapped again. “Okay, you’re on speaker, Vanessa.”
“Okay. So, like I was saying, Travis, that bartender from down at Cameo, stopped in a little bit ago. He was all casual, ordered a black coffee and a piece of cake to go, which is just weird. Then as I’m ringing him up, he tells me real quietly that some guy was asking about you at the bar earlier tonight.”
The skin on the back of my neck prickled as Grace stilled, her hand squeezing tight on the phone.
“Did he say what the guy wanted?” Grace’s voice was as tight as her grip.
“To see if anybody knew you, knew where you were, that kind of thing. Travis told him you used to live here but lied and said you took off for California a few weeks ago. Travis said the guy didn’t seem to know you’d worked here at the diner, and he didn’t tell him. He thought I might know how to reach you so that’s why he came to tell me. He also told me to wait until I got home to call you in case the guy was watching, which creeped me right the fuck out. I didn’t see anybody hanging around, though.”
“Did he say what the guy looked like?” I interjected.
“He said about his height, brown hair, kinda shaggy, and he was wearing a blue t-shirt and jeans. That’s it.”
“Did Travis say anything else?”
I wanted to touch Grace, hold her hand, but I didn’t know if that would make things better or worse.
“No, that’s it. Girl, I don’t know what this is about but if anybody comes asking, I’m going to stick to Travis’ story. As far as I know, you were headed for the land of sunshine and celebrities when you left here. You stay safe, okay?”
“You, too,” Grace urged. “Thank you, Vanessa.”
“Of course. I know you’d do the same.”
Grace disconnected and sat staring through the windshield.
“Does that description sound like Seth or Ellis? I know Ellis should still be locked up.”
Grace took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “It could be Seth. Ellis keeps his hair buzzed super short, almost shaved, and nearly always wears black. Both are about the same height and build as Travis, but of the two, it sounds more like Seth.”
Her voice was flat, almost monotone. She seemed disconnected somehow.
“Are you okay?”
Her eyebrows crinkled together. “It’s just so weird to know they’re truly trying to find me.” Finally, she looked at me. “I’ve never known for sure but this...I can’t dismiss this as just some bar customer who wants to hit on me or some guy in a grocery store who maybe looks like Seth. Even that phone call when I lived here before – I told myself Ellis was just bluffing, or he or Seth would have shown up on my doorstep. But this time, they did – or someone did anyway. They had to have known somehow that I’d lived above Cameo. If I’d stayed...”
Grace drew a shaky breath, and it was all I could do not to haul her over the console into my lap.
“I know, but you didn’t. You’re here now.” She looked down at her hands wordlessly, and the realization hit me. “Don’t take off, Grace. I know you’re scared right now. Even if they do show up here – which they haven’t – I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”
No response.
“Look at me, Grace.”
She did as I asked. It was there in her eyes. She was fighting it, but her instincts were telling her to run.
“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” I repeated, willing her to believe me, to have faith in me. “None of us will. Everybody we were with today, and Jamey, and Kendrick – all of us are on Team Grace. You’re not alone. You just have to stay here with us and let us help you.”
There was no way I was letting this woman disappear out of my life again, especially knowing someone was after her. It wasn’t happening.
Grace nodded slightly as she drew in another breath. “I’m staying. I have to stop this. I can’t run forever, and I don’t want to leave here. I didn’t want to last time.”
My heart rate calmed a little at her reassurance.
“I just wish I knew how they found me. Or found where I’d been, anyway. I must have done something that tipped them off, but what?”
I wished I had a good answer for her, something that would calm her fears, but I didn’t.
“I don’t know. Maybe someone they know was passing through and saw you and thought you looked familiar. Maybe they just got lucky, like I did.”
“Bad luck for me, then,” Grace grumbled. A second later her eyes shot up to mine. “Them, I mean. Bad luck that they found me, not you. Never you. That was good luck.”
I had to smile as Grace rushed to clarify her comment. She looked cute a little flustered and I didn’t hate the fact that she wanted to be sure I knew she considered me finding her to be a good thing.
“I understand,” I assured her. “And I agree on both counts.”
We were getting close to Grace’s apartment. I signaled my turn as I glanced at her again. “What do you want to do now? Tonight? Do you feel okay going back to your apartment?”
“I...yeah, I should be okay.” Grace reached up and smoothed her hand over her ponytail absently. “Like you said, whoever that was, he didn’t show up here.”
“That’s right,” I agreed. I sat for a second, debating, then decided to go for it. “I have an idea. Feel free to shoot me down if you’re not up for it.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, shifting a little in her seat to face me.
“What if I crash on your couch for a couple nights?” I avoided looking Grace’s way and kept talking. “If I don’t, I’ll be lying awake worrying about you worrying” – and about the possibility that she’d take off, after all, if something spooked her – “and you’ll probably lie awake worrying about all the little sounds you never notice until you’re on edge.”
I paused, then when she didn’t immediately tell me to go to hell, kept going, even risking a look at her. She wasn’t looking at me like I’d lost my mind, which I took as a positive sign.
“With me on the couch downstairs, you’ll know nobody is breaking in, and we’ll both sleep better.”
She “hmm”-ed – her little thinking noise – then said, “There’s just one problem.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad. Hit me.”
“If you sleep on that couch for even one night, you’ll probably never speak to me again.”
I had to laugh. “That bad, huh?”
“That bad,” she confirmed solemnly. “Don’t tell Mercy. It looks great and the matching chair is fine, but I’d rather sleep on the floor.”
No issue there.
“Done. Not you, me. I have a sleeping bag and foam pad I use when we camp. It’s comfortable enough on tree roots and rocks. It’ll be fine on your floor. So, what do you say?”
Grace chewed on the corner of her lip for a moment. “I’ll say yes under one condition.”
“Sold.”
Grace frowned at me. “You haven’t heard the condition yet.”
I did a U-turn in a quiet intersection and headed for my house to pick up the things I’d need. “It’s not going to change my mind but go for it. What’s your condition?”
“You have to let me say thank you.”
I looked at her, my smile widening as she looked back at me sternly. “Fine, you can say thank you once.”
“That’ll do.” She nodded firmly. “I guess I’ve got myself a roomie for a couple days.”