State of Grace (3 page)

“The only reason you’re sitting here is because your favorite part of a woman’s anatomy is on display, pervert,” she grumbled, the words escaping her lips before she could think to control her mouth. Cursing her alcohol-infused brain, her hormones, and man himself, she tried counting to ten while hoping he wouldn’t egg her on. 

Although, it probably wouldn’t matter if he kept it up or not.  Just him being close, and the clean, male scent emanating from his skin made her brain scramble.

Epic fail, idiot.

He regarded her intently and winked at her. “’Course, Gracie. Who knew you had all this covered up underneath those ugly t-shirts?”

She couldn’t help herself. 

She shivered.

His voice poured over her like warm honey, even though he spoke in his familiar teasing tone. It almost sounded like he was flirting with her more than trying to antagonize her.

It was the nearness, she decided. She needed to get away from him. Immediately. 

He placed his hand over her arm, and she gasped at the warm brush of flesh against flesh.

“Do you want me to flirt with you?” he murmured lowly in her ear.

Slowly, too slowly, it dawned on her that she’d spoken her thoughts aloud, and mortification set in. She quickly snatched her hand out from under his and scowled in no particular direction.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to stop being blunt with me now? Never stopped you before,” he teased playfully, a corner of that perfect mouth tugging upwards. She averted her gaze from his mouth and prayed to her maker that she hadn’t let any lascivious thoughts about his perfect lips slip out.

She tried to muster the snottiest tone she could. “Much to my misfortune
sugarplum
, I had a little too much to drink, and the liquor loosened my lips. And you jerk, you know I don’t like being called Gracie or
cupcake
.”

Putting this ass-hat in his place had been a struggle since she’d been in pigtails. Maybe she needed to change tactics so he’d stop torturing her. She guessed she should at least try to be friendly, especially because he was sort of family, but didn’t that also mean that he probably shouldn’t be flirting with her? And he was, wasn’t he? Men like Sean Holden did not flirt with or pursue girls like her.

Unless maybe he thought chubby chicks would do anything in bed because they were so desperate. She decided that the alcohol was talking too much. No need to be friendly to the enemy. Eyes narrowed, she pursed her lips and waited for him to respond.

Undaunted, he flashed a wide, charming grin at her. “Don’t they call that alliteration?”

Stupidly, she stared at him. “Huh?”

In slow motion, his hand lifted. She took a moment to appreciate the sheer masculine beauty of that hand. 

Strong fingers, a fine sprinkling of downy dark hair across his knuckles.

She was so distracted in dissecting the appearance of that hand that it took her a moment to realize that it was on an agonizingly slow ascent towards her lips. Her mouth fell open as the tip of his index finger lightly landed on the center of her full bottom lip. Paralyzed, she stopped breathing and stared at him wordlessly.

“Liquor loosened lips,” he murmured thoughtfully. “I like that … and aren’t these the prettiest pair I’ve ever seen.” His thumb took the place of his index finger, and she felt the slightly callused pad rub her bottom lip gently.

Stunned by how forward he was, and even more shocked that she was even letting him touch her, she fought to regain some semblance of control.

“Stop touching me,” she whispered furiously.

“You don’t like it?” His warm gaze held her slightly panicked eyes captive.

She shook her head in response but failed to dislodge his touch. “Then why aren’t you moving away?” he murmured.

Truer words had never been spoken.

Grace’s head jerked away suddenly as she saw Sophie descending upon them, a lovely vision of cream and silk with Sam right behind her. Sophie looked worried, while the other woman glared daggers at … Sean? Flushed with embarrassment, she turned to look at the man sitting next to her.

Eyes twinkling, he gave her a hint of a slight smile and carelessly shrugged as the woman reached their table. He mockingly nodded at them before sliding his chair back to leave. In the heartbeat before Sophie and Sam arrived at the table, he bent down, pausing when his lips were dangerously close to the shell of her ear.

She froze, going shock still.  Nervous anticipation coursed through her veins like lightning, tiny jolts of voltage that sparked what felt like every nerve ending on her body.

Finally, he spoke.  The satiny skin of his lips barely brushed her suddenly sensitive skin, as he wickedly whispered, “When was the last time someone fucked you and made you scream so hard, you couldn’t remember to be angry, Gracie?”

Even though she routinely accused him of being a pervert and a man-whore, his crude question and bold manner stunned her into silence.  Her heart drummed erratically as air escaped her lungs in shallow breaths.  She jerked her head so that she faced him.

Big mistake.

He was so close, close enough that if she moved ever so slightly, there would be nothing between his lips and hers.  Sharp, knowing blue eyes bore into hers intently, and two things happened simultaneously.

Heat consumed her face…

And wet warmth flooded between her thighs, leaving her panties soaked.

She knew she was beet red, but she desperately scrambled to regain her wits and ignore the lust pounding through her veins.  Her efforts were in vain though, because he didn’t give her any time to respond.  Just as she opened her mouth to say something he took off, swiftly escaping before the other woman descended upon them.

“Babe, you okay?”

While Sophie’s endearment pleased her, she nodded yes, hoping her face didn’t betray how much he’d rattled her.

“Sean bothering you, Grace?”

The truth was, the man had bothered her since the day she’d started kindergarten. What started as a simple tug of her pigtail at five only became worse as she got older. She could vividly remember her first day of high school when Sean and his squeeze of the moment had pulled up in front of their house.

“Come on, Gracie. It’s not going to be that bad,” Lucas had urged. 

Easy to say for her older brother.   While she was close to him, they were nothing alike.  Lucas was charming, handsome, and a jock, all of which made him popular.

She was bookish, plain, and had skipped a grade making her a year younger than the others in her class and no higher than a gnat on the social ladder.

They’d walked out to Lucas’s carpool partner, her anxiety doubling by the second until they reached the car, although the sight that greeted her caused her anxiety to vanish completely. 

Instead, it was replaced with the tight clench of something unpleasant as Sean pulled his mouth away from the girl in the front seat who was clearly a cheerleader because she was wearing a cheerleader’s uniform. As Sean sweet talked his girlfriend into squeezing herself into the backseat with Grace and her baby-fat, she had a feeling she wasn’t all twisted inside because of the pitying look the pretty, blue-eyed blonde gave her. 

Oh no.

She couldn’t be that lucky.

That was completely due to the boy in the letterman’s jacket with the dark hair and laughing blue eyes tearing his mouth away from said blond. Knowing she would never be in the blonde’s seat – neither in the front or the back because girls like her didn’t go with guys like Sean, she pulled strands of her hair tighter in her pony tail and kept her lips in a straight line.

“Brat.” He grinned as she tried to bury herself to make room for the blonde in the back. The blonde was three years older than she, yet her thighs were half the size. Her face flamed, but she’d managed to bark out her own greeting.

“Greetings, cretin.”

She heard her brother heave a sigh as Sean asked her if she’d miss her online
Star Trek
fan club friends while at school. Despite the blush on her cheeks that wouldn’t go away and the whirlwind inside, she’d given him as good as she got.

Unfortunately, the years since hadn’t diminished the sharp feeling that always left her aching and uncomfortable from being around him. It had only gotten worse.

So she’d dealt with it the only way she knew how.

Hating him.

Or rather,
telling
herself that she hated him. 

It was her truth, and she was sticking to it.  Dragging herself back to the present, she sighed heavily. “I’m fine guys. It’s just the usual. Nothing to worry about.”

The only problem now was believing her own words.

Chapter Two

He still wasn’t quite sure what had possessed him. He’d been in the middle of sweet-talking a perfectly attractive and willing wedding guest, who truthfully hadn’t needed much sweet talking, when he’d noticed Grace was gone. Quickly, he scanned the sectioned-off reception area on the beach, and when he couldn’t spot her, he rambled on about excusing himself to the rest room. His feet moved on their own accord to the edge of the beach.

She appeared lost in thought as she stared straight ahead, watching as waves crashed into each other and onto the shore, sparkling like black diamonds. The only sound came from the water, but it was loud enough to mask his footfalls as he drew closer to where she sat, her knees tucked under her.

Something sharp and sweet twisted in his gut.

She looked so peaceful, he almost didn’t want to disturb her, but after today, he couldn’t help himself. Something intrinsic, chemical had altered between them.

She looked up when he reached her, his bare feet sinking lightly into the white sand. Her eyes widened slightly, and as he dropped to sit next to her, he could see the delicate pulse of her throat quicken. She swallowed and turned her gaze back to the water, but her pose now held a distinct unease that told she wasn’t as immune to him as she pretended.

“It’s not safe for you to be out here so late,” he said gruffly.

He could see that his words caught her by surprise. She didn’t respond at first, so he used time to study her even further. Even though he’d known her since she was a small child, he felt like they were meeting for the very first time, and he wanted to soak up every second of it. She had a beautiful profile, perfect lips, and a tiny sliver of moonlight glinted off of her auburn hair, turning some of her tresses into fire.

She let out a tired breath. “What do you care Sean?”

Her words were no different than what she would usually say to him, but they lacked her usual heat and intensity. He paused, considering her question.

“I’ve always cared,” he admitted truthfully.

She finally turned to look at him, and he wondered why he never noticed how mesmerizing her gray eyes were, like deep pools of silver. Pearly white teeth emerged to gently bite down on the lush center of her bottom lip.

He silently cursed.

If he’d doubted his attraction to her before, he now had rock solid proof about to burst out of his pants.

“We can’t stand each other,” she said flatly,  “I don’t know what game you’re playing at right now, and quite frankly, I’m too exhausted to play this time.” Even though her voice was soft, he could hear the accusatory note it held before she turned back to watch the waves.

“Don’t look away, Gracie,” he commanded softly. She stubbornly kept her gaze trained straight ahead, and he sighed deeply. “I don’t know why I expected anything else,” he muttered as his hand shot out to grasp her chin and turn her towards him once again. He dropped his fingers so they embraced her throat, and he lazily rubbed the pad of his thumb against her wildly racing pulse. Her pretty mouth set in a mutinous scowl, but she didn’t pull away.

He took it as a sign of encouragement.

“I don’t hate you. Never did. You just make me crazy,” he said simply.

Her scowl deepened, and her eyes turned from tired to flashing silver before he could get out another word. “I make you crazy? Me?” Incredulous, she pointed at herself.

Even though he was completely aware that getting her worked up was counterproductive to his bizarre goal of getting her to soften towards him, he couldn’t help himself from treading into dangerous territory. That was simply how nuts she made him. 

He shrugged. “Yeah, you. We can’t be together for more than thirty minutes without you ranting about how my car is a gas guzzler or my dates are bimbos.”

He noted with a perverse sense of amusement that the rise and fall of her beautiful breasts was getting deeper and quicker. A dull flush began to crawl over her exposed skin.

“Face, Sean. Face,” she snapped heatedly. “Can you concentrate on my face while we’re talking? See, this is exactly what I’m talking about!”

“What?”

Finally, she scooted back from him. She lifted her hand, and he knew without fail that hand would end up in his face, wagging a finger at him. He sat back and grinned.

“First of all,” she shook her finger at him, and it was all he could do not to laugh, “I only said you drove a gas guzzler after you called my Prius a wimpy, wuss car. Second of all, you constantly pick on anyone I’m dating – you who have absolutely no room to talk. It’s not my fault if your dates have the same IQs as their silicone implants!”