Page 72 of Holding Grace

Font Size:

Page 72 of Holding Grace

It was enough that anyone observing would have no doubt that this was a wedding celebration and who the happy couple was.

“I know the circumstances aren’t ideal,” Jamey said, his voice pitched low so only I could hear him, “but you look plenty happy to be the groom.”

“I am.” My gaze slipped to Grace again. She was so damn pretty as she talked and laughed with Mercy and Jo. “I want to try to make this work.”

To my surprise, Jamey just nodded.

“Not surprised at all that I’m thinking long-term?”

“When you’ve been thinking long-term about that woman since about three seconds after you met her?” Jamey shot me a grin as he turned to leave. “No, not surprised.”

It was an exaggeration but not by much. Something about Grace had tugged at me from the first time I’d met her, when Jamey had introduced her to me as a new addition to our kitchen staff.

It wasn’t until she’d disappeared weeks later that I’d realized the extent to which she’d taken up residence in my heart. But what Jamey said was fair. Even from the very beginning, Grace captured my attention.

Like she did now as she walked toward me, her eyes shining.

“Do you think it’s okay if we cut the cake? It seems like everybody’s here from what Jamey said.”

I looked at the group, some sitting, some standing, everyone talking and mingling and having a good time. My family, of course – Mercy, Ace, Ry, and Levi – and my friends who were the next closest thing – Jamey and his girlfriend, Meg; Kendrick and Jo; Cal and Ellie, and Dante and Dev and their wives, Mia and Holly. My parents had sent their best wishes from New Zealand, where my mom was on a year-long teaching assignment.

“It’s your day, Gracie. I’d say you can do whatever you want to.”

She reached out and nudged me gently, her grin echoing mine. “It’s our day,” she corrected. “Let’s have cake.”

“Okay by me. I also think I should kiss you.”

She’d started to turn, but that stopped her. “You...?”

I bent my head a little so I could speak directly in her ear. “I think I should kiss you. We haven’t kissed since Vaughn said we could back at Levi’s.” Even that had been just the barest brush of our lips. “You’d expect a happily just-married couple to kiss at their wedding celebration, right?” My family and friends knew the gist of the situation, even if some didn’t know the details, but anyone else watching...

“I would.” Grace’s gaze slipped to my mouth. “At least a little one. Maybe not a kiss kiss, but I mean” ...Grace lifted her eyes to mine... “yes, I’d expect that.”

I rested my hand on her waist, pulled her a tiny bit closer, and dipped my head to press my lips to hers. I kept it soft and sweet – not a kiss kiss, as Grace had said – and drew back before I wanted to.

Just to have Grace lift up on her toes a little, rest her hand against my chest, and return my kiss in kind.

If she felt the way my heart pounded under her hand, she gave no indication.

“Ready for cake?” I needed a distraction before I dragged her in the back and kissed her like I wanted to.

“Ready.” She took me by the hand and tugged me toward the table where the cake sat. “Come on, husband. Help me do the honors.”

––––––––

GRACE GIGGLED AS I carried her up the stairs to our apartment, sounding cute, and happy, and above all, tipsy.

After we’d cut the cake, Kendrick had popped open several bottles of champagne. It wasn’t my thing and other than drinking to Kendrick’s toast to “the newlyweds” I’d left it for the others, including Grace.

“You don’t have to carry me, Michael. I can walk.” She tunneled her fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck, sending a shaft of heat streaking straight through me.

An armful of soft, sweet, slightly buzzed Grace was hard enough to resist without her doing one of the things that was my own personal kryptonite. There were a couple other things she hadn’t discovered yet, thank God. If she ever did, I was a goner.

Not that she was setting me on fire on purpose.

“Of course I’m carrying you,” I answered in an attempt to drag my mind back to where it needed to be. “It’s tradition. I’m carrying you over the threshold.”

There were other time-honored wedding night traditions I’d love to indulge in, not that we were going to. Even if the reality of our situation didn’t stand between us, I’d never take advantage of Grace – or any woman – that way.




Top Books !
More Top Books

Treanding Books !
More Treanding Books