Saving Grace (25 page)

“What are your intentions when it comes to him?”

She leaned back to make sure she’d heard him correctly. “My intentions?”

“That’s right. Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re wonderful, but Coach has been hurt…badly. I want to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “Someday, I hope to have a friend as loyal and kind as you.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m pregnant.” She clamped a hand over her mouth. That was the last thing she’d meant to say.

Devon missed a step but quickly recovered.

“He can’t know. Promise me right now. He can’t know. No one can know.” Desperate tears filled her eyes, and her hands fisted his jacket. “Promise me.”

“He doesn’t know?” He looked her directly in the eye. What he must have seen there scared him because he nodded. “Why?”

“You were there for the Alice fiasco. They had to get married. I won’t do that to him again. I want him to be with me for me, and not because of an accident.” Her words were whispered but deliberate. “Promise me right now you won’t tell him. Say it.”

“I promise.” He nodded again, and she could feel the tension in his shoulders relax just a bit. “Do you need anything?”

The tears threatened but her heart rate was beginning to return to normal. “No, it feels good to have told someone. I’ve been living with this little secret all by myself, and it’s hard.”

“That’s a big burden to carry.” One corner of his mouth turned up. “Just know I’m here for you. Whatever…whenever. You can count on me. You’re not alone.”

The first tear spilled over and ran down her cheek. “Thanks, you have no idea how much that means. I didn’t realize until now how much of a strain it was to hold everything in.”

She swiped at the tears running down her cheeks.

“Why are you crying?” His voice was rough and scared. This huge man with the heart of gold was scared for her and worried about her. It felt nice someone was worried about her instead of the other way around.

“Who knows? I’m crazy and hormonal, and this dress itches.” She sucked in several deep breaths and willed the tears away.

Devon tugged the pocket square out of his tux pocket and handed it to her. “The song is about to finish. Wipe your face or coach and my mom are going to kill me for making you cry.”

“I’ll tell them I’m concerned about my uncle with Alzheimer’s.” Today she’d sold her father’s guitar. It had only fetched eight thousand dollars. If she only spent money on gas for her car and nothing else, she’d have the money she needed for Belle Verde or whichever of the facilities she chose once she’d toured them all. While it had broken her heart at the thought of selling the guitar, the actual deal was no more than a business transaction. A man with a goatee had met her at Arby’s given her an envelope full of cash, and she’d handed him her guitar. It had taken all of a painless five minutes, while the ride there she’d been sick with nervous dread.

“Alzheimer’s and a baby on the way. You do have a lot going on.” Devon smiled sadly down at her the pity in his gaze made her angry.

She could take care of herself. No one felt sorry for her. She might have a lot going on, but she was doing just fine. No one pitied her…not anymore. Since her parents’ death she’d had to deal with pitying glances…well no more. She wasn’t pathetic, and just because her life hadn’t turned out the way she’d planned didn’t mean anyone had the right to pity her. At the moment, things weren’t perfect, but she wasn’t pathetic, not by a long shot. Anger filled the chasm of desperation.

She could take care of herself. While she might want someone, she didn’t need him.

“You love him.” Devon whispered close to her ear. It wasn’t a question, merely an observation.

“Yes.” She blew out a long breath. “Is it that obvious?”

“No. The fact that you won’t tell him you’re pregnant speaks volumes. You understand him.” His voice turned shy. “Someday I hope to find someone who loves me as much as you love Coach.”

She kissed his cheek. “You’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met. Someone is out there waiting for you and when you finally do meet her, she’s going to be the luckiest woman in the world.”

“If Coach isn’t good to you…I’ll be right here waiting.” He leaned back and looked around. “Well…not here, but you get what I mean.”

She snuffled. “You’re going to make me cry again.”

He missed a step. “Crap. Don’t cry. Coach will kill me and that’s nothing compared to what my mama will do to me.”

Grace swallowed several times and took a couple of deep breaths. “I’m good.”

A slow, devious smile worked its way across Devon’s face. “I’m going to do something that will make Coach mad.”

“Why?” Clearly the male mind made no sense. Why make someone mad on purpose?

“It’s guaranteed to force him to show his feelings for you.”

“You think he has feelings for me?” She couldn’t help the silly hope that radiated out. If a person could glow, she was on fire.

“The auction.” He pointed to her button. “I’m going to buy a date with you. Let’s see how much he cares and what he’s willing to pay for you.”

“That is wrong on so many levels.” She would never understand the male mind—or lack there of.

“It’s a guy thing.” He spun her around. “It’ll work.”

Grace wasn’t okay with this plan. “I’m going on record as saying that this is a bad idea.”

***

One hour later, Chord was seriously considering trading Devon to the Canadian Football League. It wasn’t exactly possible, but he could make it happen.

“Two thousand.” Chord held up his hand as he watched Grace posing on the stage.

“Really Coach Robbins, is that all she’s worth to you?” The auctioneer, a local TV news anchor whose name Chord couldn’t remember, sing-songed from the stage. “Heck, I’d kick in twenty-five hundred for a date with The Nipple Lady.”

Grace rolled her eyes.

“Three grand.” Devon waved.

Chord smiled to himself. “Five thousand.”

He had plenty of money and this was for a good cause. Plus, he wanted Grace all to himself.

“Ten thousand dollars.” Devon shouted. He was standing right beside Chord and ignoring all the dirty looks Chord was throwing his way. Yep, Chord was sending him directly to the Canadian Football League. Enjoy those winters, buddy.

“Folks, it looks like we’re headed for a bidding war.” The auctioneer winked in Sweet Louise’s direction. “Looks like we might have a tie for the highest bid.”

“Honey, fifteen grand is nothing. I’m worth so much more.” Sweet Louise cooed at him. “If you’d taken out a second mortgage on your house, you could have afforded me.”

She blew him a slow, sultry kiss.

The auctioneer turned red and loosened his tie. “Next year.”

“Fifty thousand dollars.” Chord shouted louder than Devon and stepped in front of his old friend. “And if Devon bids again, he’ll be headed straight to the Winnipeg Blue Bombers.”

“Coach, that hurts my feelings.” Devon tried to sound wounded through all the laughter. “I give up. She’s yours.”

“You’re damn right she is.” Chord headed to the stairs that led to the tiny stage.

“Sold for fifty thousand dollars.” The auctioneer boomed.

“Have you lost your mind?” Grace yelled from the stage. “Fifty thousand dollars?” She rounded on the auctioneer. “You take that back. No one’s paying fifty thousand dollars for a date with me. That’s ridiculous!”

That was his Grace. Funny and a little bit bizarre, but deep down, she was as practical as they came.

“I’m sorry.” The auctioneer shook his head. “All bids are final.”

“Well, that’s just stupid.” She unhooked the red ‘auction’ pin at her breast and tossed it on the stage. “I refuse.”

The auctioneer looked around for help, but no one came to his aid. “You can’t.”

“Oh yeah, I just did.” She stomped off the stage.

“Um…“ The auctioneer continued to look around like someone with a bachelorette auction rule book would jump out and tell him what to do.

Chord had to take control. He walked over to the auctioneer, took the mic out of his hand, and said, “Grace, don’t make me double it, because I will.”

She turned shrewd eyes on him. “Don’t even think about it."

“One hundred thousand dollars it is.” Chord said into the mic. Oooos and aaahs spread throughout the room.

“Ten thousand and not a penny more.” Grace grabbed the mic out of his hand. “And you have to cook dinner.”

The auctioneer shook his head. “You can’t change the bid after the auction has ended. It’s final.”

“Why?” Grace shrugged.

Chord took the mic from her. “It’s a rule in the National Auctioneer’s League.”

“Let me guess, it was formed on July fifth seventeen seventy six.” Grace propped a fist on her hip.

“You’ve heard of it.” He smiled broadly. “The bid stands at fifty thousand but I’ll throw in some take-out. It’s for charity…the money. The take-out is for us.”

“I still think it’s a huge amount of money for a date, but I guess I don’t have a choice.” She stuck out her hand.

He shook it and the room erupted in applause.

“The woman drives a hard bargain.” Chord nodded to the crowd. He would make the check out for one hundred thousand dollars and there was nothing Grace could do about it.

The next evening, Chord examined the stunning array of weapons scattered around his dining room table. In his mind, he’d titled the evening, Guns and Cake. There were knives of every shape and size, and guns…mostly hunting rifles and some handguns. All were unloaded, and the guys were planning on cleaning them when the little prick came over to pick up CoCo.

He knew the little prick had a name, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember it.

All the guys, thirty-six in all, were in the backyard helping Devon man the grill while Grace, Sweet Louise, and Summer put the finishing touches on several side dishes to go with the steaks.

In the last two months, he’d spent more time off the field than on with his team. It was funny, in the past he’d hung out with a few of the guys socially, but never on this scale. Since Grace had come, she’d really pulled the team together…made them a family. That translated into work. When they did practice together, the players all get along and anticipated one another. It wasn’t that they played the game differently, it was that they all worked together. Somehow, she’d managed to sprinkle her Mary Poppins-ness beyond his house, to his team.

The intercom buzzed. He checked his watch. It was six o’clock on the dot. The little fucker was punctual…he’d give him that. He walked over to the intercom panel by the front door and clicked the answer button.

“Yes.” Chord spat out.

“I’m here to pick up CoCo.” The male voice was confident.

“Why?” Chord bit his lip to keep from laughing.

“Um…we have a date.” The voice was becoming less confident by the minute.

Devon walked up behind him and clapped him on the shoulder. He leaned close to the speaker and said, “Are you sure?”

After a few beats of silence a not-so-sure voice said, “Yes.”

“If you say so.” Chord hit the button to open the gate. “Come on up.”

Devon ran into the living room and knocked on the window letting the guys know the little fucker was here. There was lots of chairs scraping and feet pounding as the guys walked in the back door and took their places around the table. They all picked up a weapon.

There was a knock at the door.

Grace ran in from the kitchen and beat him to the door.

“Hello, Adam. Please come in.” She turned around and shot Chord a dirty look.

“Thank you, Mrs. Robbins—”

“I’m not Mrs. Robbins, I’m…well…” Grace looked at Chord for clarification.

“She’s Grace.” He finished for her. “And I’m Chord Robbins.”

He stuck out his hand for the boy to shake. Expecting a limp grip, he was planning on giving the kid a bone-crushing squeeze, but the kid had a handshake. The boy had dark hair and green eyes and a brow that would have made a Cro-Magnon proud.

Someone dry racked a shotgun. Chord turned around to find Devon glaring at Adam.

“Coach, do you have any more shotgun shells? I see a snake, and I’m pretty sure it’s after CoCo.” Devon did intimidation better than any man alive.

“No, I’m afraid we’re fresh out.” Grace rolled her eyes.

Clint stood and pulled out a huge knife. “I guess we’ll have to do this the old fashion way.”

“Really?” Grace threw up her hands. “Next y’all will be offering to beat it to death with your bare hands.”

Several grunts of agreement came from the general direction of the dining room.

“Don’t mind them, Adam.” Grace touched his shoulder. “They were all raised in a barn by howler monkeys.”

“Lord knows I can attest to that.” Sweet Louise walked into the living room followed by Summer.

“Clint, where did you get that ridiculous knife?” Summer crossed her arms.

Clint walked over to his wife and put his arm around her. “Cabelas. I’m thinking of taking up knife throwing.”

Summer looked at him like he was a science experiment. “With a sword? That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

Clint whispered loudly. “We’re intimidating this boy who thinks he’s good enough for CoCo. You’re not helping.”

Everyone laughed.

“Adam, I’m so sorry.” CoCo walked down the stairs in the blue dress.

Chord blinked to make sure it was really her. She was all grown up. Gone was the little girl who’d insisted on pigtails with bows he’d learned to tie, and gone was the little girl who’d refused to leave the house unless she was wearing her pink Hello Kitty rain boots. In her place was a young woman. He was both proud to see the person she’d become and gut-wrenchingly sad at the loss of that little girl.

“Clearly they don’t let these Neanderthals out of the stadium much, because they don’t mix well with real people.” CoCo turned her nose up at her ‘football uncles’, and then said, “Would you like to meet the team? Since they don’t have any manners, I’ll do the introductions.”

“Clint, meet Adam Marks. You two should have lots to talk about since you’re both quarterbacks.” She turned to Adam. “In addition to having a cannon for an arm, Clint makes really good chocolate chip pancakes.”