Written in the Stars (6 page)

Mason walked over and tossed her a bag, which of course Grace failed to catch. “Deep-­fried pork skins.” He arched one eyebrow in silent challenge.

Grace felt a flash of delight. “Oh right, they're called pork scratchings in England. Don't mind if I do.” Grace pulled the bag open and took a crunchy bite. “Mmm, tasty.”

Mason folded his arms across his chest and gave her a long look. “Interesting.”

“What, that I eat them? Of course I would love something this rotten for you. And don't get me started on bacon. I do believe I'd eat a shoe if it was wrapped in bacon.”

Mason shook his head. “Here I thought pork rinds were a Southern food...well, I use the term
food
loosely.”

“A delicacy, you mean.”

He gave her that killer grin again. “If you say so. Have at it. But in reality pork rinds are low-­carb and not as unhealthy as you might imagine.”

“I feel a tad better, then, not that it would matter in the end. Do you fancy one?” She held a fat, curly pork rind up to him in polite offering.

“No, thanks.”

“Wait—­are you only into healthy food?” From the looks of him Grace could believe it. He appeared as solid as a rock. She'd like to squeeze one of those biceps to find out—­oh yes, she would.

Mason hesitated and then said, “No, not really. But craft beer pairs well with certain meals, much like wine, so I've become a bit of what Mattie calls a foodie, even though the term makes me feel silly.”

“You don't say.”

“Your turn to be surprised?”

“I happen to like surprises.” She reached into the bag for another pork rind. “So can you cook too?”

“Sure can.” Mason nodded. “I honed my skills over a campfire. I can cook anything from beef stew to brownies.”

“Seriously? Brownies? I can barely manage s'mores. Oh, now I want one. So how is it that you're such a proficient campfire cook?”

“I used to conduct overnight fishing trips, and I wanted the food to be something to remember. So, do you like to camp out?” He gave her a look that said he couldn't quite imagine her sleeping beneath the stars.

“I haven't done a lot of it, but I did a white-­water rafting trip in West Virginia that lasted three days. I had to be pretty hardy for that.”

“I'm impressed.”

“Don't be. I fell out of the raft twice.” She held up two fingers. “But I loved it...well, except for the night noises and complete darkness. When you're a city girl, thick, black darkness can be quite scary, not that I wouldn't give it a go again. Being a bit frightened is part of any adventure, wouldn't you say?”

“I have to agree. It's all about the adrenaline rush.”

“No doubt! Well, I'm certainly impressed by your campfire cuisine.”

“After mastering a campfire, cooking in the kitchen is a breeze. How about you?”

“Not so breezy.” Grace really didn't want to explain that she'd grown up with a cook in the house. Her mother enjoyed cooking but didn't have the time. Of course, Grace could have been like Sophia and watched meals being prepared, but Grace was always too antsy to sit around the kitchen island for any length of time. “I'm always on the move, so I never really put much effort into fixing my own meals. Why cook when you can unwrap a cheeseburger?”

Mason made a face.

“Oh, stop. Fast food is a guilty pleasure, but I know my way around fine cuisine.” She tilted her head. “But in truth, what I love the most is discovering hole-­in-­the-­wall restaurants that serve up amazing local dishes. Getting lost in the middle of nowhere has its rewards.”

“Wine and Diner up on Main Street serves up comfort food with a gourmet twist. I'm sure you'll enjoy the menu there.”

“Sounds lovely.” Grace nodded, hoping he might offer to take her there, but he started walking toward the office again.

“The food is really delicious. It used to be Myra's Diner, you know, Southern comfort food like pot roast and meat loaf.”

“Chicken-­fried steak? Mashed potatoes?”

Mason nodded. “The best.”

Grace groaned. “Stop, you're killing me. So the diner changed hands?”

“Sort of,” he said, while looking through some notes on the desk. “When hard times hit, Myra's niece came back from Chicago, where she was a chef at some big-­time restaurant downtown. Jessica was supposed to only help get the diner back on its feet but ended up taking over, so now it's a blend of old-­fashioned favorites and Jessica's specialties. Jess married Ty McKenna, a major league baseball player who now coaches the Cricket Creek Cougars.”

Grace shook the bag and located the biggest pork rind. “While she was in London, Mattie told me about some of the movers and shakers who moved to Cricket Creek over the past few years. Including, of course, my mother's ex-­husband, Rick Ruleman.”

“We sure were blown away when he moved here.” Mason stopped what he was doing and looked at her as if suddenly remembering her connection to the famous rock-­star legend.

“I know.” Grace nodded. “If you had told me a few years ago that Rick would have ended up starting his own record label catering to country and bluegrass music, I would have laughed in your face.”

“I can understand why you would feel that way,” Mason said, but Grace sensed him pulling away from their earlier easy bantering. “I can't imagine...,” he began, but then stopped and nibbled on his bottom lip.

“Imagine what?” Grace quit crunching and looked at him, even though she was pretty sure what was coming.

“Nothing.”

“In my experience,
nothing
always means a great big
something
,” Grace said lightly, trying to bring back some humor, but Mason didn't even crack a smile. “So what is your
something
?”

After another slight hesitation, he said, “I'm just a country boy, Grace. I guess it just hit me that you grew up around really famous people. And...” He trailed off again, but Grace knew that he wanted to say something about being wealthy.

“So?” She tapped her foot, waiting, and then felt silly and stopped tapping. “Go on, then.”

“I don't know.” Mason shoved his fingers through his hair. “Why are you getting mad at me? You forced it out of me.”

“I'm sorry. It's just that people tend to get the wrong impression about my lifestyle. I get kind of touchy about it. Not your fault.”

“I didn't mean anything by it. I really like Garret and Sophia too. But I understand what you're saying. When I knew who Garret was, I wasn't exactly thrilled when he started seeing my sister. I don't have to tell you about Garret's player reputation, which was splashed all over the tabloids. I didn't want my sister to get hurt by the rich son of a rock star out to have a good time.”

“Things aren't always as they seem,” Grace said with an edge of defense in her tone.

“I get that now.” Mason sat down on the edge of the desk and crossed his ankles. “I'm not a judgmental person, and I was completely wrong about your brother. And Rick doesn't look anything like he did back in his leather-­and-­long-­hair rocker days, so I don't think of him from back then. I guess for a moment I just forgot about all of that, not that it matters. So will you give me a break?”

“Your arm or leg?”

“My nose,” Mason said, and gave her a small grin.

“I'd probably swing and miss.”

“Okay, then.” Mason stood up and took a step closer. He tapped the bridge of his nose with his finger. “Go ahead.”

“No, thanks, you don't deserve it.” Grace lifted one shoulder and then looked down at the pork rinds, which were holding less appeal. She seriously needed to get rid of that chip on her shoulder.

“Good, because I think you'd pack quite a punch if you connected.”

“Well, you know, I get it. And Garret didn't help matters by all of his shenanigans caught by the paparazzi. He egged it on just to get his father's attention, and of course worried my mother to death. But we didn't live the kind of pampered, reality-­show-­worthy lifestyle that people imagine.” While she knew that her upbringing was anything but normal, her mother had made sure that she and Sophia worked their tails off, not only to become successful, but also to be just good, caring people. In truth, after her divorce from Rick Ruleman, her mother modeled for only a couple of years, to earn enough money to start her own business. Becca never expected one swimsuit poster to make her into a household name, and to this day she still hated when it was mentioned. Grace's father hated when it was mentioned even more. At least Mason was too young to have had the poster hung up on his bedroom wall. “Let's just drop the subject, shall we?”

Mason raised his hands in surrender. “Like a hot potato.”

“Oh, there you go mentioning food again!”

Mason laughed and the mood lightened. “Well, I have to say that it's really cool to have a recording studio in Cricket Creek. We're getting all kinds of talent in from Nashville, thanks to Garret. And even though we don't get the
Sing for Me
competition here on a local television station, we were able to view it on the Web and had watch parties on the big screen at Sully's Tavern.”

“Really? That's so wonderful. Does Garret know?”

“Of course.” Mason seemed to find what he was looking for on the cluttered desk. “We're really proud of him.”

“Me too.” Mason's straightforward admission put a lump in Grace's throat. Even though her mother never spoke poorly of Rick Ruleman, Grace grew up resenting him because of his lack of interest in Garret's childhood. Grace's own father had been missing in action in her own life, so she understood some of Garret's void, but she never had to endure having her father's crazy exploits splashed all over the tabloids—­most of them with starlets half his age. Desperate for his father's attention, Garret had tried his best to outdo his father in the public eye. Classic but sad. “It's good to see Garret getting recognition for his talent rather than his antics.”

Mason looked up from the note he was reading. “Danny is on the wild side too. Always doing some fool thing that drove my parents crazy. Still does, now and then.”

“I guess there has to be one in every family.” The fact that Garret and Rick had mended their fences and Garret was a talent scout for My Way Records was nothing short of a miracle. But for Grace, the best part, other than Garret's marriage to Mattie, was that Garret had made it as a judge on
Sing for Me
on his own merit, not on the coattails of his father.

“Okay...” Mason started looking through some keys dangling from hooks on a big board behind a desk. “Mattie also told me that Sophia is an amazing hairstylist sought after by celebrities. So what is she doing cooking and waiting tables at the bistro?”

“To help out, but she also needed a break from the stress of being in a high-­end salon in New York City. She specialized in brides...Can you imagine?” Grace shuddered.

“And your mother designs clothing that Mattie says isn't fancy but for the everyday person, and she's coming out with a cute line for babies.”

“Mattie has told you quite a lot.”

“She's confined to bed rest. When you visit, she holds you captive.”

“I would be the same way.”

Mason gave her a look that said he believed her. “But seriously, you come from a talented family, Grace.”

“Thank you.”

He unhooked a key from the grid. “So what's your talent?”

“Talking.”

“Oh, come on.” Mason glanced over his shoulder and laughed, but Grace wasn't really joking all that much. Sure, her Girl Code line of edgy cosmetics was pretty damned cool, but it was her ability to sell that made the product take off. She also knew the value of finding the perfect niche in the marketplace, which more often than not meant finding a demographic that was being ignored or neglected. “Elaborate for me.”

“Sales and marketing is my thing, which equated to being really good at persuasive speaking.”

“Hey, that's a talent, in my book.”

“Thank you. I like your book.” And his book had a very nice cover.

Mason chuckled. “Okay.” He looked at the selection of cabin keys again and then turned to her. “Danny has you in cabin twenty-­three up by the lake.”

The tone of Mason's voice had her asking, “Is that not good?”

“Well, Mattie and Garret's cabin is right over there.” He pointed to the left. “And the bistro is up on the hill. Danny has you up in the wooded area overlooking the lake. Pretty setting and conveniently located.”

“Where's Sophia's cabin?”

“Sophia is actually staying in the only high-­rise in Cricket Creek. It's just down the road near the baseball stadium. She wanted to be close to town and shopping. Of course, that's an option for you too, but I can't help you with that one.”

“Oh, now that I think of it, she mentioned that. What are my other options?”

“I do have something that you will think is either cool or a pain in the butt.”

The tone of his voice captured her interest. “What?”

“I have a cabin over by the covered slips that's actually built on a slab out on the water. It used to be the main office until we built this bigger one with the shop. You have to walk on the dock to get to it or use a boat, but you might find it fun to be surrounded by water. There's a back deck with patio furniture and a grill.”

“I'll take it.”

Mason grinned. “I kind of thought you would.” He tossed her the keys and she surprised herself by catching them.

“Good catch.”

“Lucky catch.”

“Let's get you settled in and then locate Sophia,” he said. “If she's not at the bistro, I'll take you over to her apartment.”

“Thanks. Hopefully she's charged her phone and I can finally get in touch with her.”