Saving Grace (Madison Falls) (23 page)

He nodded toward the living room. “Can we talk?”

She stepped aside, allowing him entrance, then quickly bolted the door.

He crossed to the sofa. “I could tell you were upset.” There was an agitation in his mannerisms that she hadn’t seen before. “Then Sophia said something about you that made me think I needed to see you.”

She sat on the edge of the cushion, not wanting to let down her guard. Trouble pulled away from her grasp and darted off to live up to her name. “Sophia—”

“I know.” He held up a hand. “Let
me
, please.”

She nodded, her nerves still raw as steak tartare.

His face grew somber. “I just want you to understand that my life is complicated.”

Grace arched an eyebrow. He thought
his
life was complicated?

“Please understand that whatever else happens, I feel like you and I have a special connection.” He took her hand. “There are certain things that…”

Her temper flared. She pulled her hand away. Was he about to tell her he wanted to date them both?

He rested his hands on his lap. “Things that need to be kept quiet. Whatever Sophia said…”

Grace was too overwrought for this right now. She stood, chewing her thumbnail with absentminded disregard for her most recent manicure. She crossed to the window and peeked out into the blackness. A cringe crept through her. If someone lurked in the shadows, would she be able to see them?

“Grace,” Devon was now standing a few feet behind her. “If Sophia told you something, please give me a chance to explain.”

She whirled around. “She didn’t have to tell me anything. I know.”

The lines near his eyes deepened. “You know…. Look, if Roberts said something to you, I’ll—”

“Sam? Why would he say anything? I have eyes. I saw you two together.”

He looked at her sideways. “
Saw
us together? Wh…when?”

She blew out a jagged breath. She hated sounding like a green-eyed female, but she had to get this out. “This afternoon.”

A look of genuine confusion swept across his face. “I don’t…”

“At the market.” She folded her arms. “You were buying what looked like a romantic lunch, complete with wine, and you were flirting like you were at a speed dating marathon.”

His face slowly lifted as his eyes softened. “You’re kidding.” His voice lilted. “That’s what upset you? You think that
Sophia
and I…”

Her stance eased slightly. “Well, yes.”

He laughed, taking a step closer. “Grace. Sophia is my student.”

“Your student?”

“Right. We were just working on a scene. I’m her acting coach.”

“Her acting coach?” She lowered her arms, weighing this information. “Boy, does she need one.” She tried not to get flustered. “Okay. But why the
pranzo
?”

He rolled his eyes. “We’re working on that scene from
Picnic
—do you know the play?”

Her temples throbbed with confusion. “I know the opera.”

He nodded, his whole manner lightening. “Sophia has this obsession with a Stanislavski sort of realism. She thinks that if you’re rehearsing
Picnic
, you have to
have
a picnic.”

“Oh.” Grace bit her upper lip. “Lucky you weren’t doing
Murderers
.”

“Yes.” He chuckled lightly. “I thought you believed me when I told you earlier that Sophia and I weren’t involved.”

“I did. It’s just that when I saw you like that…” Her voice trailed off as she tried to recall all her reasons for reaching that conclusion. “Wait a minute. If Sophia isn’t jealous of me because of
you
, then why—”

A flicker of some unidentifiable emotion shot from his eyes as he held up a hand. “She might have gotten the impression that I was considering her for the role of Carmen.”

“What?” Grace’s jaw dropped like a broken elevator. “How would she get that impression?”

He rolled up his eyes. “It’s just that when I first met her, I was struck by her look. The way she moves, and that beautiful hair. I was a little overzealous and I might have mentioned that she looked like the Carmen type.”

“Was that before or after you heard her sing?”

His eyes turned sheepish. “Before, I’m afraid. I offered to coach her, but I never really promised her anything. When I mentioned you were a singer too—”

“
Too?
” Her ego twisted in a painful knot at the inference that she and Sophia were even close to the same level.

He seemed to catch his faux pas. “Of course, the difference between you is night and day. Sophia has a long way to go before she’s ready for something that big.”

Grace folded her arms and curled her lip. This was all just too much for her.

Devon put a comforting hand on her arm. “There’s something else, isn’t there? Something you’re not telling me.”

She nodded slowly, looking into his eyes. She had to tell him. However their relationship evolved, he had a right to know how dangerous her life was. She braced herself. This was the moment of truth. If Devon really cared for her, he’d understand.

She cupped his hand with hers. “I have to show you something.” Pulling away, she went to the sofa and picked up the folded note from the end table. After a moment of careful contemplation, she turned and handed it to him.

Slowly, with a look of consternation, he took it.

Relief and fear intermingled in Grace as Devon’s eyes swept the page. She needed to get it all out. “There’s so much I haven’t…”

She caught herself, disbelief clouding her thoughts. Why was he smiling?

Levity trickled into his voice. “I can’t believe you took this seriously.”

“Of course I did. I—”

“Grace.” He held the note up and glinted an incredulous smile. “Do you know who wrote this?”

Her head swam. “I thought I did.”

“The paper. The stupid red pen. She leaves notes for me every day. She’s big on notes.”

“
She?
”

“I don’t know what you thought this was about,” Devon tossed the note onto the table. “But it was written by my housemate.”

Chapter 31

“Wish me luck, Troubs.” Grace called out to the snoozing ball of fur curled up on her living room rug as she bounded toward the front entry. Now that her fears about Kirk were temporarily sidelined, she had other business to attend to.

In one swift motion, she undid the bolt, yanked open the door, and stopped with a gasp.

Sam jarred back, apparently as startled as she was. One hand hovered near the doorbell and the other held his toolbox. “Morning. This a good time?”

She downshifted from alarm to annoyance. “Don’t people in this town ever call first?”

“Would you have said this was a good time?”

“No.”

“Good thing I didn’t call.”

She twisted her mouth, disdain prickling her skin. She couldn’t believe that just last night she’d been ready to hand over part of her wealth to him. Thank goodness she’d seen him go into that woman’s apartment before she’d acted so rashly.

He cocked his head and raised one eyebrow. “I’m going to be busy for the next few weeks, with the show and all—”

She frowned. “What show?”

“
Pirates
.” His brow creased. “Lucy said you asked us to play.”

She let out a sigh. “I asked
her
to play.” Was there no getting rid of this guy?

“Oh.” His face fell subtly. “Anyway, I’m going to be pretty tied up and I’d feel better knowing that your bathroom pipe’s not going to explode before I can get to it.”

His vivid verb choice was hard to ignore. She’d prefer to steer clear of any sort of explosion if possible.

“I was just on my way out,” she said in feeble protest.

“Then chances are I’ll be gone by the time you get home.”

She dropped her head back in surrender. “Fine. Just lock the door when you go.”

Giving her a tentative smile, he eased past her. He opened his mouth to speak then looked away, his mind clearly changed. He stepped into the hallway and disappeared into the bathroom. There was a clattering
thunk
of toolbox meeting tile floor.

Staring after him, Grace folded her arms and contemplated his motives. He’d been so nice to make that crate for her, not to mention all that work he’d done on the floor for half what she’d expected to pay. Now this. Why on earth would he care more about her bathroom pipes than she did?

She caught herself smiling, troubled by the compassion she felt for a man with such obvious character flaws. Expelling a sigh, she headed out the door.

Casting her customary gaze up and down the block, she descended her front steps and started down the walkway. She looked both ways before stepping off the curb, a ridiculous habit considering that traffic in her neighborhood was infrequent and snail-paced. She angled across the street, anxious to get this over with.

Consulting the slip of paper Devon had given her the night before, she set off. The walk would surely warm her up for battle.

She rolled her tense shoulders as she walked. Her anxiety from last night had waned, thanks to Devon’s timely explanation, but she’d slept fitfully nonetheless. There was nothing like fearing for your life to knock your sleep pattern askew.

She’d been so overwhelmed with a brew of confusion and relief, that she hadn’t pursued her goal of telling Devon the details of her life. There would be plenty of time for that later. For now, she needed to proceed with her plan to sell the painting and go home. Her stomach tingled at the thought of what might lie ahead for her and Devon, both professionally and personally.

She crossed Main and went another couple of blocks before turning down a tree-lined street much like her own. All the houses around here were quaint and well-looked-after. Grace got the feeling that people here really cared about their town, and that comforted her. She’d miss this place when she returned to the bustle of the city, where you could go all week without running into anyone you knew by name.

She checked the slip of paper again, noting the house numbers as she walked. Her steps slowed as her gaze fixed on a little rectangle of a house that blushed a garish shade of pink. Seemingly embarrassed by its brash paint job, it attempted to duck behind black trim. Grace knew even before checking the address that this was the place. It was so like its owner—sickeningly sweet with dark around the edges.

She lifted the latch on the gate, swung it open and walked up the curved path to the front stoop. With a bold and confident knock on the door, she braced herself for Sophia’s pointed scowl.

Instead, the door opened to an unfamiliar masculine form. Grace pulled in her breath as she adjusted her gaze up a few inches. He was tall, with a football player physique and an air of cockiness that immediately set Grace’s nerves on edge.

“Oh,” she said. “Maybe I have the wrong house.” She took a step back, confirming the number.

A pleasant expression masked the subtle once-over he no doubt assumed she hadn’t noticed—or worse, had been flattered by. “You want to see Sophia or Devon?” He leaned a muscular arm against the door’s edge. “You’ve got the right place.” He moved back to allow her to enter.

“Oh…okay.” With inexplicable discomfort, she stepped into the entryway. Who was this guy? “I’m here for Sophia. Devon told me he’d be at a meeting all morning.”

“Right. A
meeting
.” He pushed the door shut and gestured toward the next room. “Sophia’s still in the shower, I think. She should be out any minute.”

Grace nodded, taking a seat in the prim but cute living room. It was pretty much what she’d expected of Sophia.

Her makeshift host sat in a chair near the window. “I’m Ty, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Ty. I’m Grace.” She put on a polite face. “So you live here too?”

Surprised amusement flashed across his face. “Me? No. I’m actually on a road trip to Seattle. I just thought I’d swing by and see what Devon was up to. I haven’t seen him since he disappeared off the face of the earth.”

His words kicked her stomach. “Disappeared?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled as if there was a highly entertaining story behind his comment. “That guy…. You know him very well?”

Her cheeks flushed. “Well, we’ve been seeing each other.”

His eyebrows shot up like prices on an old fashioned cash register. He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “That dog.”

Her heart
ka-thumped
. “I’m sorry?”

He looked at her as if he hadn’t realized he’d vocalized his thought. “Forget it. I just meant I’m not surprised. You seem like his type. Some things never change.”

Blood rushed to her face with such intensity that the rest of her went slightly numb.
His type?
What did
that
mean? She firmed her mouth. This guy was probably just one of those jerks who hadn’t moved on past college days. The kind that never let his friends forget their foolish frat boy behavior. She couldn’t let it get to her.

Glancing up, she pretended to admire a painting above Ty’s chair. Where was that Sophia?

Apparently aware of her gaze, he looked at the wall behind him. “Beautiful piece.”

“Hmm? Oh. Yes, isn’t it?” Couldn’t they just sit in silence?

“Sophia says it’s by a local artist.” He faced her again. “I’m an art collector, myself.”

Grace tried to smile. “Really? How interesting.”

He nodded pleasantly, apparently under the impression that anything he might have to say about himself would be riveting.

Just then Sophia strode into the room, her wet hair hanging straight over her shoulders. With no make-up to accent her hawk-like features, she actually looked pretty. A flash of unease gave way to a self-satisfied sneer before she spoke. “Well, what a surprise.”

Grace stood. “Oh really? I thought you’d be expecting me. You did leave me a handwritten invitation, after all.”

Sophia’s lips pursed as her eyes landed on Ty, who sat with his ankle on one knee and his hands intertwined. Seemingly startled by the realization that he wouldn’t be allowed to stay, he pushed himself to his feet. “I should…uh…get my things packed up.” He stood and headed down the hall.