Saving Grace (9 page)

Grace noticed, and smiled for the first time.  She thought he was handsome – rugged and grouchy but handsome. 

She brought her knees up to her chest to keep her from exposing herself.  “Sorry about that.”  She saw how uncomfortable it made him, and wondered if he was curious about what he saw.

Burke frowned, and repeated himself.  “You going to sit out here all night?”

Grace lifted her chin in defiance.  “So what if I am.” 

She wasn’t sure where to go.  She had no direction.  She didn’t want to use her credit card at a hotel, as her family or Zach might find her.  Grace turned to face Burke.

He noticed the determination in her eyes.  He also saw the bruise that had formed around one of them.  He winced internally. 

Who would do such a thing? 
Burke’s gut burned.  He instantly felt protective over this girl, and softened his approach.  She obviously needed a break.

Grace noticed him staring at her eye, and turned to face the ocean, blocking his view from her face.

“Well, if you’re going to sit here and take up my time, I might as well know your name.”  He insisted.

Grace didn’t care if he saw her face anymore.  She turned and shot him a look, which let him know exactly what she thought of him at the moment.

“Easy.  I don’t bite.”  His voice softened.  “I’m Burke.  I’d shake your hand right now, but they’re both kind of occupied.”  He shrugged and glanced up to his hands, which held the tarp up.

Grace looked up, and listened to the pounding sounds of raindrops, as they pelted above.  She let out a breath, knowing he didn’t have to be out here keeping her dry.

She turned to face him and smiled warmly with appreciation, which gave his gut a shock. 

Easy Burke.  Don’t get too involved.  She’s a girl in trouble – nothing more – nothing less.  Keep your hormones in check. 

It was hard to think of anything but her smile.  The way it lit up her face, literally would have knocked him on his butt if he weren’t already sitting down.

As the rain pounded harder onto the tarp, she scoot in closer, trying to stay dry.  The feel of her body leaning into his, didn’t help him release any tension he was feeling.

“I’m Grace,” she said softly.  “Thanks for the rescue … twice.”

“Sorry - I left my horse at the castle.”  He joked, and got the payoff he’d wanted … her laugh.  It was almost melodic … like magic, and he wanted to hear more of it.  It had been ages since a woman’s laugh made him feel anything, let alone send his insides into a fit.

“This storm is supposed to last for a couple of hours.  And you can’t go anywhere looking like that.  You could get arrested for solicitation,” he said, glancing back to her wet shirt.

“Funny.” She grimaced, and clutched her knees tighter.

Don’t do it, Burke.  Don’t do it. 
“Come up to the house.  You can change into dry clothes, and we’ll wait the storm out.” 
Awe, Burke … you did it. 

He was kicking himself for committing to helping her out, but from the second he retrieved her purse - knew he was going to.   There was just something about her. 

Grace looked wearily at him, with guarded eyes. 

“It’s okay.  I’m not going to try anything.  Besides, you could be my little sister.  How old are you? You can’t be more than eighteen?” 

“Twenty.”  She sat up straighter.  “Twenty – one next week.”

He groaned.  They were closer in age than he’d originally thought.  He was hoping to put a mental barrier between them, so he could resist his growing attraction.  If she were too young, than that’s a line he wouldn’t cross.  But she was only five years younger than him, and now he was in trouble.

“Still too young.”  He lied.  “Come on.”  He stood, and shifted the tarp so she could grab her gear and stay dry as they walked up to his home.

Once inside, she visibly relaxed.  This didn’t look like the house of an axe murderer.  Besides she’d seen evil, and he wasn’t it.  He had kind eyes, once you got past the gruff exterior.

Burke set her bag just inside the back door, leaving it unlocked, as a sign that she could leave at any time. 

She watched him cross the floor and reach for a lightweight throw, from the back of his couch.  He turned to wrap it around her shoulders. 

“This will help dry you off and keep you warm.”  He turned her to face him, and looked down into her eyes. 

She could see the look of concern cross his face.  No, there was no evil there.  She could trust him. 

Burke felt her tremble and tightened the throw around her shoulders.  “You’re shivering.”

She was shivering but not from cold.  The simple act of his hands drawing her in had her stomach in knots.

“Do you have any clothes in your carryon?”  He asked, nodding toward her bag.

She shook her head.  “Just make up and girl stuff.”

“Okay, I’m going to get you some dry clothes,” he said softly and walked away.

“Whew.”  Grace sank into the couch, and turned to look behind it out the back patio window. The sun finally slipped out of sight. 

She quietly watched as the water drizzled down the window, and was grateful to be inside.  The truth was she was grateful to be anywhere, but on that plane, sitting next to Zach. 

The thought of Zach sent her into a panic once more.  She tried to stuff her emotions down, as she knew she was safe now, but couldn’t help but think of how angry Zach was at the moment. 

Hard as she tried, the anxiety came back in full force, causing Grace to lose the light in her eyes once more.

Burke quickly rummaged through his drawers looking for something that might fit her, but he’d not had any female guests in a long time.  He settled on a pair of running shorts and a T-shirt, hoping they would be okay.

As he rounded the corner to the living room, he stopped in his tracks. Her eyes looked blank, like they did when he first met her, and he wondered where her mind had gone, as it wandered off into whatever trauma had brought her to him.

He gently crossed the floor to sit next to her and laid his clothing on her lap.  He slowly reached for her chin, and inspected the bruise on her face.

“Are you going to tell me who did this?”  He looked into her eyes and waited.  Even with the bruise, she was stunning.  Her long eyelashes and full lips sent shockwaves through him.

The feel of his fingers on her face, shocked Grace back to the present.  His touch sent shivers down her spine.  She slowly shook her head, saying nothing. 

Burke knowingly nodded.  It was too soon.  He frowned and leaned back into the couch.  His arm instinctively wanted to encircle her shoulders, but he kept it in check and laid his hand onto his own lap.  They both sat saying nothing for a few minutes, until he realized she was still sitting in her wet clothes.

“Here.”  He gently turned her hand over, palm side up before moving the clothes from her lap into her hand.  He noticed her eyes shot up to his. 

Grace swallowed and said nothing. 
So this is what it feels like? 
Her mind went back to her conversation with Mercy, as her friend described how she felt when Phillip touched her.

She weakly smiled in return.  “Where can I change?”

He took his time answering her, as he, too, was mesmerized.  “Over there.” 

“Thanks again.  I’ll be back.”  She slowly got up and walked away is awe over how much one man could make her feel so alive so soon.

Grace shook her head.  
Be careful, Grace. After almost being attacked, anyone showing kindness might evoke this kind of feeling.

She knew better though, as she remembered the feeling of electric impulses that ran along her arm as he simply placed his hand on her wrist.  If he had that effect on her with one touch, she pondered the thought of what he could do with more. 

Burke’s gut tightened as he watched her walk away.  Even wrapped up in a blanket, he could see how shapely she was.  His mind went back to how she looked in her wet sheer shirt, and leaned forward to run his hands though his hair.

I told you not to get involved.
  He chastised himself but it was short lived.  All it took was the memory of how her eyes lit up for one short instance when she smiled.  In that moment they held no pain.  That gave him enough motivation to see where this could lead.

Chapter 13

After reaching Grace’s voicemail for the fifth time, Zach shoved his phone in his pocket.  His mind was racing, trying to recall the details from the airport.  He couldn’t quite tell, but he was almost positive that when TSA pulled her aside he saw a look of relief cross her face.

“Grace,” he muttered, and began pushing down harder on the gas pedal of his car.  “You think you can get away from me?”

He was never more humiliated than when he was practically forced on the plane, only to realize she wasn’t boarding.  At first he blamed it on airport security, but deep down he knew she ran. 

She would have left me a voicemail if she’d been detained from boarding,
he thought. 
You’d better be on the first flight back.

Zach pulled into his driveway, and lugged his luggage from his car.  The whole drive from the airport to his house, he had repeatedly tried calling her to no avail.  She was obviously avoiding him and that knowledge was enough to send any warm feelings he had for her far from reach.  Now all that was left was pure resentment that she truly did turn out like her mother.

  He pulled his key out to open his door, only to see a lock box on his doorknob 

“What the?”  He angrily pulled his key out, to find that in no longer worked.  Furious he tried again … and again. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me?”  He yelled and spun to search his front yard, where a ‘For Sale’ sign had been placed.  “What in the world is going on?”

Zach pulled his phone from his pocket to search for his mother’s contact.  She’d threatened earlier that she was going to sell the family home, but he wasn’t taking her serious – until now.

“Mother!”

“Yes dear.”  Melanie grimaced at his tone, but decidedly kept a strong authoritative tone.  She would not be intimidated.  She’d done enough of that in all her years, with her late husband, Zach’s father.  She was glad this conversation would not be face to face, so she could stay strong.

“What have you done?  Why won’t my key work?”

“I had the realtor change it.  While you were on your trip, I had a moving company take all your things and put them in storage.  Only the necessary furniture is inside for staging – in order to sell the house.  And even that I’m going to sell if I can.” 

“Over my dead body!” 

“Well, let’s not be dramatic.  You’re so much like your father,” she said, disappointed in her son’s behavior.  “Listen, I had your clothes and personals packed and sent to Four Seasons.  You can stay there until summers over.”

“You’re messing everything up.  I’m trying to make a life for myself here, and I can’t do that from the Four Seasons,” he said between his teeth.

“Fine, whatever.  Live where you want, but not in that home anymore.  Your father gambled everything away we had.  The sale from that house will help me pay off his debt.  That’s the end of the conversation – period.  You’re a big boy – not a child.  Go make a living if you need more.  As it stands now, you’re lucky I’m able to get you a hotel room.”  Melanie scolded. 

She was too tired to deal with her son’s latest attitude.  It was always something with him, and she began to wonder if he really was a little too much like his father.  If that really were the case, then she would have her hands more full than she’d care to.

He was about to tell his mother where she could take her motherly concern and put it, but his caller ID showed a call from Lilah.

“Listen ma – this has been great … really.  But I’ve got something else I need to take care of.  See ya.”  He hit end before he could hear his mother’s reply, and then took Lilah’s call.

“Zach?” 

He could hear the desperation in Lilah’s voice, and smiled for the first time in hours.  At least he had one of the Aundine’s where he wanted them.  He would have preferred it by Grace, but Lilah would do. 

“Yes, Ms. Lilah.  I’m here,” he said calmly.

“Is Grace with you?  She won’t take my calls, and I can’t reach her.  After this morning, I need to talk to her.” 

“I’m sorry.  She’s not.”  Zach waited to see where this conversation led, not wanting to be too forthcoming with information.

“Is she at home already?  She’s not answering there either.”  Her small voice cracked.