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Authors: Kathi S. Barton

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BOOK: Grace Anne
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Wells took her hand and kissed it.
“Good to meet you, miss. You and the boss here, you sure do make a very fine-looking
couple. You two look like you could be models for them cake toppers at
weddings.” He shook Michael’s hand before continuing. “Master Trace called, sir,
and he said that he wanted me to fetch him home first thing in the morning. He
said you promised him blueberry pancakes and sausage links. If you want, I can
have him here around ten if you and Miss Waite will be ready for him by then.”

Grace buried her face in his
shoulder and he lifted her face to his. He kissed her on the mouth as he turned
to Wells. He didn’t want her to be ashamed that the household knew she was
spending the night. “Ten will be fine. And please, have your wife make some
bacon too.” Michael turned to Grace. “What do you want extra? Molly can make
the best pancakes in the world and they’re so fluffy they need the blueberries
in them to keep them on the plate.”

She looked at Wells. “I’m not a
big fan of pancakes, but I’ll try hers. And blueberries are my favorite. Tell
your wife I look forward to trying them.”

They walked into the house and he
showed her around. The house had been a real buy and the timing couldn’t have
been more perfect. He’d gotten such a good deal on the house and the
surrounding twenty acres that he’d had an office put in just so he could stay
here some days instead of traveling to the city every day.

The front hall was the perfect
place to start. The double wide staircase went up the first level and split off
into two different directions. The stairs to the left led to the guest bedrooms
and the one to the right to the family’s rooms. He bypassed the stairs in favor
of the lower level, knowing that if he got her upstairs he’d never come back
down again tonight.

“This room is what Molly calls the
sitting room. I like it. It’s warm and if I want to have a fire, it’s easy to
flip on the gas. And if you pull this wall away.” Michael reached over and
moved the panel that slid into the wall beside it. “You can watch a little
television or listen to the sound system. Trace and I spend a lot of time in
here.”

“I can see why. It’s the kind of
room you can kick off your shoes and lay back.” She wandered over to the set of
windows that bracketed each side of the fireplace. “The view is amazing. I didn’t
even know there were these kinds of places in New York.”

He sat in the overstuffed chair
near the fireplace before saying anything. “It’s the reason we loved it so
much. Trace wanted a yard like his grandma and I wanted the privacy that being
out in the middle of nowhere could give you.”

She moved to the other door and
into the dining room. He got up to follow her after kicking off his shoes. He
knew he should pick them up, but was loath to leave her to discover his house
on his own. She was talking to Molly when he entered.

“Oh no, miss, it’s no problem. I
love to bake and having some reason to do so makes my day. Tim, he doesn’t
appreciate a good baked bread, but the mister here does.” Michael walked up
behind Grace as Molly continued. “The miss here was telling me that she liked
the smell of my bread. I was telling her that I could make her blueberry
muffins in the morning while you and young Trace have your pancakes. She was
fussing at me not to do so.”

“Blueberry muffins with the sugar
on top? Oh, Grace, you’ll have to have them. They’re only rivaled by her apple
crunch. I hope you’ll bake enough for me to take to work on Monday.” Molly
nodded and disappeared in the kitchen. He turned Grace in his arms and looked
down at her. “She’ll make them anyway so you might as well decide to eat them
now. You wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings now, would you?”

She glared at him. “Do you always
get your way? I mean, it seems like you think you should so I’m wondering if
you do. I’m not a pushover, Mr. Cunningham, so you’d better get that thought
out of your head right now.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked her
suddenly. “Do you think you could wait for, I don’t know…a couple of hours
before you’ll need to eat again?”

“I suppose so, why?” He scooped
her up into his arms and headed for the stairs. “What is wrong with you? Put me
down this instant. Of all the—Michael Cunningham, put me down.”

He stopped halfway up the right
flank of stairs and put her on her feet. He was glad for the wall behind her
because, when he pulled her to him and rocked into her, she leaned back against
it and lifted her leg over his hip. Lifting her up by her ass, he was glad when
she wrapped both her legs around him so that he could walk and feel her pussy
pressed over his raging hard-on. If he made it till morning he was going to be
really surprised.

And if they made it downstairs
again before ten, it was going to be a miracle.

Chapter 10

 

Thomas sat in the lobby and waited
for Michael to come in. He looked at his watch again and couldn’t believe his
stepbrother was coming in so late. It was nearly eight-thirty on Monday morning
and he still wasn’t in. Thomas just knew it had something to do with that girl.

He thought about the woman who had
approached him Sunday afternoon. How she’d gotten his name and address was
still a little fuzzy to him, but he liked her idea about getting back at
Michael. He smiled when he thought of her plan.

“You bring me the man and I’ll let
you do whatever you want to him after I get the girl. She’s all I want anyway. After
that, I could care less what you do.”

He nodded and knew that for
whatever he thought of doing to Michael to get back at him, this woman could do
worse to him. He sat back on his chair and looked at her. “And what is it that
you expect me to do with him? You must know that he’s my brother. And what is
it you want the girl for anyway? I might want to fuck her instead of giving her
to you.” Thomas stroked his cock. “She and I had a connection at dinner on
Friday. I think I might want to pursue it.”

She looked at him strangely before
answering. “All right. You can fuck her, but she’s still mine. When you’ve had
your fun, then I take her away and you will have your stepbrother. I know all
about your relationship with him. You should be more discreet when you two have
a fight. The underlings talk a lot.”

So here he was trying to make nice
with his stepbrother and get closer to him. Thomas thought about using Trace as
bait, but didn’t want to have to convince the kid to come with him. Trace hadn’t
trusted him almost from birth; another reason to hate his stepbrother, for
making his nephew hate him.

When Michael finally came into the
building at nine-fifteen Thomas had been about ready to leave. He was just
standing up to do so when he spotted him coming down the main lobby. He walked
toward him and tried not to look like he felt—like he wanted to murder him
right now.

“I need to talk to you. It’s about
working for you again.”

Michael didn’t stop moving toward
the elevators as he answered, “no.”

“Please. I need to have a job or
my parole officer gets to put one of those ankle things on me. And that shit
just isn’t going to set well with what I have planned.”

Thomas stepped into the elevator
as soon as Michael did. “Well, you should have thought of that before you
fucked the girl on her desk. It may not seem like much to you, but I do have a
reputation to uphold.”

Thomas wanted to pull out the
knife he’d purchased this morning and plunge it into his heart. How dare he to
talk down to him as if he were better than him. Thomas took several deep
breaths as he tried to regain control of his temper. He counted to ten, then
again before he spoke, but by then the elevator had stopped on the upper floor
and Michael we getting out.

“You have to give me another
chance. I promise I’ll try and not screw up again. You have to give me
something here, Michael. I don’t want to go back to jail.”

Jail had been some place he’d
never go again, even if he had to shoot a couple of cops to do it. It was a
place that he’d been low man on the food chain and not a place he liked. Thomas
shuddered as he thought about the person who had introduced him to being a “girlfriend.”
Thomas caught up with Michael, trying to outrun the memories. The man, Jack,
had taught him a great deal about submission and what happened to his “girlfriend”
if he didn’t.

“Look, I don’t have the energy to
fuck with you today,” Michael said as he hung up his jacket. “You come back
tomorrow and I’ll see what I can do. I’m not making any promises, but I’ll see.”

Thomas wanted to tell him to go
and fuck himself, but knew that he’d never get the job if he did. Instead, he
thanked him and walked out of his office and down the hall to the elevator. He
was just stepping inside when he saw Trace. The boy was coming toward him at
full tilt and stepped in the elevator before it closed. He was sure the kid was
going to regret it the moment he realized who was with him.

“Why aren’t you in school?” Thomas
asked him when he saw his nephew practically became one with the wall. “I
thought all you brainiacs spent, like, all your free time there.”

“Its spring break. I don’t have to
be back until the Monday after next. Dad and I are taking a trip this week. What
are you doing here? How come you aren’t in jail again?”

Thomas lunged for the boy just as
the elevator opened. Trace darted out just as several people stepped in. Thomas
got out just as the door was closing and went after him. The smart-assed kid
was going to pay for that comment, and he was going to make sure that he paid
dearly. The kid took off out of the building just as Thomas did and he was
darting down the street. He followed for about four blocks, losing him twice
before he couldn’t find him. He was just about to go back when he saw him go
into a big building and close the door. He started to follow, but when he got
to the building the intercom wouldn’t work and he stood out there for several
minutes pounding on the door that no one would answer. Thomas looked around. Maybe
he’d gotten the wrong building and he started to go down to the next one. By
the time he’d moved down three more he was exhausted.

Thomas was going to get the kid if
it was the last thing he did. The fucking little bastard would probably tell
his dad some stupid lie and Thomas would not only be out of a job, but he’d
also be barred from the building again. Pulling out his phone he called his dad.

“I just saw Trace leaving the Cunningham
building. I was worried he’d be hurt so, when I went after him, he took off. I
can’t stand that he thinks I’m going to hurt him all the time. Would you call
Michael and make him aware that his son is out running around again?” Thomas
groaned when he realized he should have called his mother first. She would have
maybe believed him quicker than his dad.

“What did you do to make him run,
Thomas? If you hurt that boy, you and I are going to tangle and then Michael
will—”

“I didn’t hurt him. And I didn’t
make him run. I told you, he was leaving the building and I followed. I lost
him on the street.” Thomas had one more thing to add to his list of grievances
from his stepbrother. “I would have called Michael but, like you, he would have
blamed me. You know I could have just let him run wild in the streets, but I
called to let someone know.”

His father relented, but still
didn’t act as if he believed him. His dad said he’d let Michael know as soon as
he hung up. And Thomas hung up soon after. He watched the three buildings and
when no one came out after thirty minutes, he moved on. Fucking kid would
probably end up dead and then what fun could Thomas have? He was grinning when
he went back to his apartment. Time to make some arrangements.

~~~

“Your father said for you to wait
here until he comes out of his meetings. He said to tell you to behave yourself
and not to touch anything.” Grace sat down at the big desk as she spoke to him.
“I don’t know why parents tell their kids that. How are you supposed to know
things if you can’t touch them?”

Trace grinned as he stuffed the
rest of the grapes in his mouth. He was glad the door downstairs hadn’t been
locked. He was sure that Uncle Thomas would have hurt him if he had been able
to catch him. Trace took a big drink of his water before he spoke. “Thanks
again, Miss Grace. I was all turned around until I saw your building. I’m glad
that man downstairs didn’t get mad when I almost knocked him over.” He watched
her face to see if she was mad. She didn’t appear to be, so he relaxed a
little.

He didn’t tell her the real reason
he’d been running around. He was sure she’d never believe him and was afraid
she’d make him go back with his uncle again. Trace looked down at his scuffed
shoes before he looked up at Grace when she started talking. He liked her. He
liked her a whole lot. She didn’t talk to him like he was a kid and she always
had something for him to snack on.

“Arnold. He’s my friend and a pain
in my ass.” She picked up this sheet of paper with a lot of small pictures on
it. “See this? It’s called a contact sheet. I’m supposed to pick one picture
out of all these to put on the cover of my catalogue. Why on earth would you
need…” He could see her counting. “Fifty-three? He took fifty-three pictures?
Christ, why did I… Anyway, he took all these pictures and I’m supposed to pick
the best one.”

Trace looked around the little
room. It looked like someone had taken a bunch of crayons, melted them down,
and poured them all over the walls. He thought maybe it would be something that
had to grow on you, as his grandma said, but he wasn’t sure why anyone would
want it to. So far as he knew, some of those colors just looked gross together.
He looked back at Grace when she cleared her throat.

“You don’t like it, do you?”

He started to nod then shook his
head. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but it was really bad.

BOOK: Grace Anne
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