Saving Grace (21 page)

“I think that was insulting, but I’m not completely sure.” She stuck out her tongue anyway.

He took the opportunity to kiss her. Lightly, his tongue pushed the piece of chocolate from his mouth into hers. She deepened the kiss and pressed her body against his.

Out of the corner of his eye, flames caught his attention.

He pulled away from the kiss. “Your marshmallow is on fire.”

The dazed, happy look on her face was something he knew he’d remember forever. She looked at the flaming ball on the end of the fork, stumbled to the sink and flipped on the cold water.

“I can see that horizontal technique worked wonders for you.” Ever the gentleman, he grabbed the burned glob, tossed it down the disposal, and turned it on. After the grinding noise slowed, he turned it off.

“I was distracted. Not my fault.”

“You know.” He traced his fingers down her arm. “I have a horizontal technique I could show you.”

“Wow, I didn’t see that one coming from a mile away.” She rolled her eyes. “I was wondering how long it would take you to use it.”

He shrugged. “Use it or lose it.”

She ran her fingers up his bare chest. “I guess you could show me your horizontal technique, but I get to be on top.”

“Deal.” He pulled her to him.

He was finding that Grace did everything with passion and gusto…especially love making. If every day were like this one, he could see keeping her around for a very long time.

The next morning, Grace woke up in a tangle of hair, arms, and sheets. Since her room was ransacked, and neither had felt like putting it back together last night, they’d slept in the master bedroom.

All that pink glared down at her. If she shut her eyes, it wasn’t so bad. Although the morning sunlight blasting those pink walls did give her eyelids a rosy hue.

“Wake up.” Chord smacked her on the butt. “I hear a car pulling up.”

She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was ten in the morning. She never slept this late unless she’d been up all night having fantastic sex. “Damn, Summer and Clint are supposed to bring the boys home at ten.”

She jumped out of bed, disturbing Clementine who groaned in protest. She shielded her eyes from the pink, sunshine glare. “How long have you and Clementine been sharing a bed?”

Chord patted the dog. “There are some things a man needs to keep to himself.”

She cocked her head to the right. “Let me guess, since day one. All that carrying on about not letting him get on the furniture or sleep in the bed with the boys was just bull.”

“I plead the fifth.” Chord’s eyes found her naked breasts. “We could kick him out and test my version of the horizontal method again.”

“The kids are here. I’m not sure seeing us naked in the same room is good for their psychological development.” She was about to have a panic attack.

“Okay.” Lazily, Chord stretched and finally sat upright. “I’m going down to make some coffee.”

It appeared he didn’t feel the slightest bit awkward about facing his kids after he’d slept with Grace. Now that they were an item…sort of, she didn’t want it to be weird around his kids.

“Think we should tell them we’re…” sleeping together didn’t sound right, and technically they weren’t dating because they hadn’t been on an actual date.

“Together.” Chord nodded. “I’m going to tell them you’re my girlfriend. Think that covers it?”

He was so calm, so sure, so levelheaded.

“I guess. You don’t think it’s going to be weird?” Grace looked around for something to put on, but her clothes were in her room or maybe the kitchen. No…they were in her room. She was seventy-percent sure. “Are my clothes in my room or the kitchen?”

“Your room, your panties are in my suit pocket. I’m keeping those, by the way.” He dropped a kiss on her mouth. “I like trophies.”

“You’re not thinking of putting them in the family trophy case, are you?” She shook her head. He was so into winning he wasn’t above mounting her panties and showing them off.

“Nope, they’re my own private trophy. I don’t need to show them off.” He grinned.

“You’re a little twisted. You know this right?”

“I’m a guy, it comes with the territory.” Gently, he shoved her toward the door. “Go take your shower. I want some pancakes this morning. And don’t tell me we’re out of buttermilk again, because I saw some in the fridge last night.”

“A little white lie to throw you off the birthday scent. Worked too. You were so disappointed.” She called from the door.

“Thanks for the party. I don’t know if I thanked you.” The boyish smile combined with his morning mussed hair made her stomach do flip-flops.

“You thanked me in the kitchen, my room, this room, your shower, and once on the sofa. I think we’re good.” She blew him a saucy kiss.

Like a little boy, he caught it in the air and returned one to her. Apart from some minor trust issues, was there anything wrong with this man? There had to be something. Well, he was an ass on occasion, but no more than the average guy.

She walked into her room, shut the door, and locked it. She loved him—loved his family, and there was a very slight chance she was carrying his child.

All in all, it was a pretty good day.

Twenty minutes later, she bounded down the stairs, darted through the living room, and was about to walk into the kitchen when she overheard Chord talking to the boys.

“So what does that mean?” It was HW. “She’s going to be our new mom?”

He sounded so hopeful; her heart smiled.

“Well no, not exactly. She still works here, but she’s my girlfriend.” He took a deep breath. “We’re going to go out on dates and things.”

“You gonna kiss her?” Cart didn’t sound happy.

“Yes, every chance I get.” Chord said. “When you get older, you’re going to find a special lady, and you’re going to want to kiss her all the time too.”

“He already has. Cart has a girlfriend…Cart has a girlfriend.” HW sing-songed.

“Do not.” Cart was getting madder by the second.

“Do too. Abigail Murry kissed him behind the swing set yesterday. She told everyone that she’s his girlfriend.”

“It was gross. She licked my lips.” Cart’s voice cracked. “You gonna lick Grace’s lips?”

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. There wasn’t a square inch on her body he hadn’t licked.

“I think we’ve gotten a little off course here. Grace and I are together…a couple. Are you okay with that?” Chord was doing his best, but it was weird.

“Sure.” HW called. “You can lick her lips all you want. As long as she stays here and makes dinner, I don’t care.”

HW, God love him, could be shallow.

“And you Cart?” Chord sounded concerned.

“I guess. Just don’t make her go away. Things are good because she’s here. I don’t want her to leave.” Cart was really concerned.

Her heart broke just a little bit. Of course he was concerned. His mother had left, and she was his only frame of reference when it came to adult women. She would stay as long as they would have her. She would be the woman in his life who didn’t go away.

She walked into the kitchen like nothing had happened. “Anyone up for pancakes and bacon?”

“We already had pancakes at Aunt Summer’s house. She makes them with chocolate chips.” In the kitchen chair, HW got on his knees, stretched for an apple in the fruit dish, and rolled it around the table. “Summer’s pregnant. She’s got a big belly with a baby inside. Uncle Clint showed us. He’s got this special machine where he waves this wand-thingy over her tummy, and you can see the baby. It’s a real baby. It has a head and everything.”

Chord looked confused.

Grace grabbed the buttermilk from the fridge and set it on the counter. “Clint bought a sonogram machine.”

“Oh…that makes more sense. For a minute there, I thought we were talking magic wands.” Chord shook his head.

“My dad says you and him are a couple.” Cart made it sound more than an accusation than a statement.

“Yes, we are.” Grace sifted flour, salt, and baking powder into a bowl.

“Are you going to lick him on the lips?” His voice held lots of disgust and a little interest.

“You bet. Every chance I get.” Grace stuck out her tongue for effect.

“You gonna marry my dad?” HW continued to roll the apple around the table.

“Not today. I have laundry to do.” Grace avoided Chord’s eyes and measured out a cup of buttermilk and whisked it in.

Cart studied her stomach. “Do you got a baby living inside your tummy like Summer?”

The whisk fell out of her hand, bounced off the cabinet and landed with a splat on the floor. “Um…no.” She hoped. Grace grabbed a paper towel, wetted it, knelt down and wiped up the mess. “Why?”

Hadn’t she read somewhere children could sense a pregnancy before it was confirmed?

Cart shook his head. “I could use a baby sister to boss around.”

“Yeah, it might be kinda neat to have a baby sister.” HW agreed.

“What about a baby brother?” Why was Chord egging them on? Did he want her to be pregnant?

“No, we want a girl. We’ve got it all worked out. A baby sister wouldn’t steal our toys because they’re all boy toys, and she would want dolls and stuff.” HW explained. “As long as she keeps her hands off our toys, we’re fine with a girl.”

This conversation couldn’t get any weirder.

“Who wants bacon?” Grace grabbed another whisk and finished the batter.

All of her men raised their hands.

“Can we have extra bacon and more bacon and lots of bacon?” HW was easily distracted by breakfast meat.

“You bet kiddo.” She turned on the oven to cook the bacon, pulled out the cast iron pan from beneath the cooktop, turned on the gas and lit the burner. She set the pan on top of the burner to heat. “So what did y’all do at Summer and Clint’s?”

“We built a huge fort out of pillows and took turns jumping from the couch onto the pillows. We watched Star Wars and Summer made us popcorn—you know in a pot on the stove with real melted butter. It was so good, she had to make more. Then Uncle Clint set up some sleeping bags so the men could sleep in the living room. Aunt Summer said only men are allowed to sleep on the floor. Women just aren’t that special and have to have a bed. She said it’s like peeing outside.” He shrugged. “Some things women just can’t do.”

They all looked at Grace. She was all for women’s lib, but not when it came to peeing outside and sleeping on the floor. Put her up on a pedestal if it meant having a toilet and comfy mattress. “She was right. Some things are men’s work.”

“What did y’all do last night?” HW looked from Grace to his dad and back to Grace.

Chord shrugged. “Same. Built a fort, watched a movie, ate popcorn.”

Both boys looked into the living room.

“Where?” Cart stared into the living room like he was trying to make out an invisible fort.

“Grace’s room.” Chord leaned over and whispered loudly into Cart’s ear. “It’s a mess. She’s a terrible fort builder. We thought she was bad a trash talk, her fort skills are so much worse. I don’t like to think anyone is a lost cause, but well, she kind of is.”

“I beg your pardon.” Grace propped a fist on her hip. “I can build one heck of a fine fort. I can out build both of you, any day with both hands tied behind my back.”

“How’s she gonna build a fort with no hands?” HW leaned into his father. “Was she trying to trash talk again?”

Chord sighed dramatically. “Yes son, I think she was. It was frightening, and I’m so sorry that at your tender age, you were exposed to something so horrific.”

“What? I’m getting better.” She grabbed the soup ladle from the crock on the counter, scooped up pancake batter, and poured it into the pan. “I am getting better, I don’t care what y’all say.”

So trash talking wasn’t her thing. This family made it sound like that was worse than murder on God’s list of crimes.

“Hon, we love so many things about you, but the trash talk has got to stop. Admit defeat and move on.” Chord shot her a sympathetic look.

“That’s it. No pancakes for you.” She screwed up her face in a fierce grimace.

They loved things about her. Deep down she knew it was stupid to sift through every conversation for a sign of his feelings for her, but she did it anyway. Chord wasn’t exactly forthcoming in the feelings department—she knew he cared. She just wanted to know how much.

He shook his head and sighed. “Don’t be a hater.”

“Yeah Grace, get over it.” Cart smiled kindly at her. “We love you just the way you are.”

And she loved them just the way there were too. Fixing breakfast for her men, watching them laugh and tease one another—this was a good day.

Two weeks later, life in the Robbins household had settled into a pattern. At first it was a little strange for Chord to kiss Grace or snuggle with her on the sofa in front of the kids, but they embraced it. CoCo especially. It took Grace a little while to figure out exactly what it was, but CoCo felt like she’d played matchmaker. The girl smiled every time her father showed Grace any affection.

That made the whole situation perfect. Acceptance by the kids, a loving partner—this was the life she’d been looking for. Except for Uncle Vernon.

Grace scrubbed the pot she’d made chicken stew in until it was clean and then placed it in the dishwasher. Belle Verde had an opening, but before they would take her uncle, they needed a ten thousand dollar deposit. They understood her situation and were willing to hold the spot for a month for her to gather the money.

She glanced at the calendar hanging on the refrigerator. Project Hope was moving right along. Dell Children’s Hospital had donated a suite of rooms and the build out was scheduled to begin next week. Warren was able to get things done in record time, but surely the recording studio would be finished in time for her to record a single, get it up on iTunes, and sell ten thousand copies in the next month.

Ten thousand dollars—it might as well be ten million.

She picked up another pot and scrubbed. Selling her car might be an option, but it wasn’t worth anywhere near ten grand. Plus, Chord was likely to notice that her car was missing.