Saving Grace (12 page)

All the drawers were upended, and the contents spilled all over the floor. Kitchen utensils mixed with clothes, and pots and pans were strewn everywhere. She wanted to run away and hide, but he’d always been there for her. Every single day, her uncle was becoming less of the man she knew and more of a jumbled shell of broken memories.

“What happened here?” Grace swept her arm around the room.

“Looking for my pocket knife.” Uncle Vernon turned bright, cheery eyes on her. “Have you seen it? You know, I got it last Christmas from Dean.”

Dean Baker had been his best friend in high school, but Dean had been killed by a drunk driver just shy of his twenty-first birthday. Uncle Vernon had lost that pocketknife at least twenty years ago.

“Let’s look for it together. We need to get this mess cleaned up before mom gets home from work.” Her heart ached for the man he’d once been. “How about we start in the kitchen.”

Uncle Vernon pulled on his left earlobe. “What happened here? It looks like a tornado blew through the house.”

The earlobe pulling was his coping mechanism for when life didn’t make sense to him. Today, nothing made sense, hopefully tomorrow would come with clarity.

Four hours later, Grace clicked the button on the garage door opener and the heavy wooden door rolled up. It had taken two and a half hours to clean up the apartment and another half hour to get him to bed. For the last hour, she’d just driven around crying. She wanted to tell herself it would get better, but she never lied to herself.

She pulled her car in the garage and parked. After checking for mascara tracks on her cheeks and grabbing her purse, she was out of the car. With one hand she opened the garage door to the kitchen, and with the other she clicked the button to close the garage door. She wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for days.

“How was your date?” Chord sat at the kitchen table with a plate full of the brownies she’d served after dinner and a large glass of milk in front of him. He was so calm, matter-of-fact, and normal.

“What is wrong with you?” She turned to work up her mad again, but the strain of Uncle Vernon’s situation had drained her. “Stalking me and teaching the boys that it’s okay to stalk a woman!”

“When you say it like that, it sounds really bad.” He looked honestly horrified. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“That’s what every stalker boyfriend says to his girlfriend right before he locks her in the basement so she won’t leave him. It was wrong. What’s worse is that you took your children with you.”

“I’m sorry.” He scratched the back of his head. “I shouldn’t have done it. There is no excuse. I’m not a jealous man by nature. Hell, my ex-wife cheated on me for years and I didn’t do anything about it, because I didn’t care. But with you…I’m different. I wanted to be the man you’d dress up for. I wanted to be the man you’d chosen to go out with. I wanted you to pick me. Want me.”

He turned sad eyes on her. “I guess I wanted to see what type of man interested you. I can be that man if you’d just give me a chance.”

She’d expected some flip response, but here he was giving her total honesty. It didn’t excuse his behavior, but at least he’d owed up to it and understood that it was wrong.

“I didn’t have a date.” She sat beside him.

“I don’t understand.” The brownie in his right hand heading to his mouth stopped midway.

“I went to see my uncle. He’s in assisted living.” She grabbed a brownie off the plate and took a bite. Yummy fudginess swirled around her mouth.

“Why did you tell me it was a date?” Confusion muddled his handsome face. He had a small scar above his left eyebrow that should have been sinister but was flat-out charming.

“Whatever is between us can’t happen. I wanted you to think it was a date to put some distance between us.” She picked up his milk and sipped. “I need this job to pay Uncle Vernon’s rent. He has Alzheimer’s and needs more care, only I can’t afford it.”

She set the glass down. That was as close to begging as she’d ever allowed herself.

He covered her hand with his. “You look tired.”

“I feel tired.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “All I want to do is jump into bed and hide under the covers until he remembers me again. Have you ever wanted to hide?”

Chord didn’t strike her as a hider.

“Yes.” He nodded slowly. “The day Alice left, I wanted to curl up into a ball and make it all go away. But I couldn’t because I had three kids who needed me.”

She waited for him to elaborate. After a full minute she gave up. “I’m so sorry. That must have been terrible.”

Again, she waited for more, but he clearly he didn’t want to talk about it. There was an awkward pause, but she doubted if he’d noticed.

“I take it today was a bad day.” His hand covering hers was warm and solid. She wanted to lean on him, but she’s never leaned on anyone before.

“Worse than you can imagine. His mind is fractured. Today he was back in high school, but then he looks in the mirror and can’t figure out who the old man is. Luckily he’s a sweet person to the core so when he gets frustrated and confused, he only gets sad instead of angry.” She smiled sadly. Uncle Vernon had never been angry…ever. That’s one of the reason he sucked as a disciplinarian.

“What about all your brothers and sisters?” He turned her hand over to palm up and linked his fingers through hers.

“They’re all gone. Titus, my last living brother, died about five years ago. You would think that God or the Universe or whoever would take pity on a couple who adopted kids with severe disabilities because they knew the kids wouldn’t live long and they wanted them to have a few years of loving memories. But no. My uncle’s mind is wasting away and my aunt died of leukemia four years ago. If acts of kindness are supposed to get you into heaven, these two should have a front-row seat. My aunt used to say that she was gathering jewels for her crown in heaven. Right now, her crown must weigh a ton.” The thought of her uncle dying shattered her soul, but there was no cure for Alzheimer’s, and every day he lost another piece of himself.

“I’m sorry.” Chord brought their linked hands to his lips and kissed the back of her hand. “You do seem to acquire other people’s responsibilities. Your uncle, my kids…you shoulder burdens when most people run away. You’re allowed to hide under the covers now and then. In fact, I’ll tuck you in myself.”

His brows shot up in invitation, and a sexy smile broke across his face.

Slowly she rolled her eyes up to meet his. “Really? Here we are having this deep, touching conversation, and you throw in that cheesy line?”

One corner of his mouth curled up. “You caught that did you?”

“I can hear the pow-chicka-wow-wow music in the background right now.”

“What can I say? I’m a romantic.” He grinned.

“Yes, I can see that. Romance oozes out of your pores.” She laughed. He got an A+ at making her laugh.

“I sweat romance.” He kissed her hand again. “I’m going to put that on a bumper sticker.”

“You have a way with words.” She should pull her hand away, but the kiss was comforting.

He leaned into her. “You’ve been crying.”

It sounded like an accusation.

“This was a cry-worthy evening.” With her free hand, she touched her eyes. They were swollen. At least she hadn’t done it in front of anyone. Tears called for solitude.

Clementine’s feet twitched like he was running, and then he yipped, and his feet twitched. It looked like a wonderful dream.

“You forgot to mention this dog’s crazy.” He pointed to Clementine. “I tried to make a sandwich earlier, but when I pulled out the sliced cheese, he lost it. His eyes got huge, he cried like I’d ripped his paw off, and then he tinkled all over the floor. But it was the pickles that sent him over the edge. One lone jar of kosher dill spears had him running up the stairs to hide under my bed. When we finally found him, he was crying and had his giant head under my bed. I guess the rest of his body wouldn’t fit and stuck out. I had to take the bed apart to get him out.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know about the pickles.” She glanced at Clementine. “He has issues, but he’s a good dog. I guess I can take him back to the shelter.”

Grace’s heart twisted at the possibility of losing Clementine.

“What? Why are you trying to get rid of my dog?” Chord sat up.

“You want to keep him?” Relief flooded her.

“Duh, he’s my dog.” Chord hunched his shoulders.

“Good, he needs a good home, and this good home needs a dog.” Grace took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Carefully, he lowered her hand and placed it on the table. “Normally, I’d kiss my way up your arm and work over to your mouth all while figuring out the best way to unhook your bra, but you need to rest.” He shrugged. “Plus, I like the anticipation. Seeing you naked is a personal goal, but I like the fantasy too.”

“I’m not a foregone conclusion.” She shook her head.

“I didn’t say you were.” He winked. “That part was implied.”

“Remember how we discussed that you can act like an ass sometimes?” She cocked an eyebrow. “Now would be one of those times.”

“I disagree. I’m being charming.” He threw her a boyish smile.

“You practice that in the mirror, don’t you?” Quick as a snake striking, she leaned over and planted her lips on his dry ones and then pulled away. She puckered her face up like she’d just bit into a sour patch kid. “You’re a terrible kisser.”

Their first kiss was awful, that should cool things between them.

His hands went up. “Hold on a minute. I wasn’t ready, and besides that kiss was something you’d lay on your brother. I’m not your brother.” From his front jeans pocket, he pulled out a small cylinder of breath spray and squirted a puff in his mouth. “Now, I’m ready.”

“Sorry, the moment’s gone.” She stood. “You had your chance to impress me, and you fell flat on your face.” She tilted her head to the left and hunched her shoulders. “Frankly, I’m disappointed.”

“I was ambushed. I deserve a do-over.” He stood and put his arm around her shoulder. “NKL—National Kissing League—rules clearly state that in the event of a drive-by first kiss, one do-over is allowed.” He shrugged. “I don’t make the rules.”

“The NKL. Really? The National Kissing League? You come up with that one all on your own?” She eyed him. His arm around her was nice. The illusion of a protective male was comforting.

“It’s an actual organization. It was founded on July fifth, 1776.” He led her to the stairs.

“The day after the Declaration of Independence was signed?” She bit her smile back. His talent for bullshit was legendary.

“Yeah, you know the founding fathers had some free time. They’d gotten the big business out of the way, and it was time to tackle some of the lesser issues. Kissing, wigs, why men wore Capri pants—”

“Capri pants? You lose some serious man points for even knowing what they are.”

“Don’t worry about me. I coach football for a living. I have man points to spare.” His arm slid down to the small of her back.

“Good to know.”

They walked to her door. Like a gentleman, he opened it for her. “Cart and HW got you the flowers and candy.”

Grace stepped into her room. A bunch of peonies complete with dirt-clotted roots and an orange plastic Halloween pumpkin filled with candy sat on her nightstand.

“Cart brought you his leftover Halloween candy and HW um…borrowed the flowers from Mrs. Casper’s yard.” His arm was still around her. “We were going to buy you some flowers and candy, but they thought picking the flowers, and giving you their candy would be more personal.” He picked through the candy and made a face. “All the good stuff is gone…oh wait.” He plucked up a Tootsie Roll and unwrapped it.

“I see their apology.” She made a big show of looking around. “Where’s your—”

He shoved the Tootsie Roll into her mouth and then covered her lips with his. The kiss was soft…like he was testing the waters. He deepened it and his tongue darted into her mouth pushing the Tootsie Roll aside. His Chocolaty-flavored tongue swirled around her mouth. Desire tingled all the way down to her toes. Just for one minute, she pushed responsibility out of her mind and enjoyed the moment.

His hand at her back pushed her into him as his lips played across hers. Her hands slid up his chest and snaked around his neck. His other hand cupped her jaw. His touch was light…tentative.

He dropped his hands, his tongue left her mouth, and his lips fell away. He sucked loudly on the Tootsie Roll. “Tootsie Rolls, my favorite.”

“Wow.” She hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

He shrugged. “I’m a good kisser.”

“And so humble too.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t fool yourself. It was the candy that put you over the top.”

“Tell yourself that if it helps you sleep at night.” His cocky grin should have annoyed her, but it made her smile. Their cat and mouse game was interesting and had gotten her mind off of her troubles.

“So now you’re good with the NKL?” Grace controlled the impulse to fan herself. Her girl parts wanted very badly to play with his boy parts.

“Got to follow the rules otherwise there’s serious consequences. Somebody told me that once.” He stepped through the open door. “Goodnight. Get some sleep.”

“Too bad, just when I was going to throw out the rules and sleep with you. You up and become a rule follower.” She slammed the door in his astounded face and locked it.

She was playing with fire and hopefully; she wouldn’t burn down the house.

***

Chord shrugged out of his shirt, tossed it in the laundry hamper, and stepped out of his tennis shoes. He turned on the shower, unbuttoned his jeans, slid them and his underwear off, and stepped into the shower.

Grace could kiss. He mashed his lips together savoring the flavor of her. The little stunt she’d pulled with that drive-by kiss hadn’t worked. He was as attracted to her as she was to him—well, it was more than just attraction. He genuinely liked her and cared what she thought. That had to count for something. He’d never really had a female friend, but it was nice. He could talk about things he would never mention in front of another guy.