Amazing Gracie (24 page)

Gracie’s mouth gaped. “Kevin is a lawyer?”

“Well, of course he is. Didn’t he mention it?”

“Not exactly.”

Delia shook her head. “That boy. Sometimes I just can’t figure him out.”

“Kevin actually practices law?” Gracie asked again, wondering if maybe he’d only gotten the degree without ever putting it to good use.

“Yes, indeed. Estate law, just like his daddy before him.”

“Well, I’ll be,” Gracie murmured.

“Okay, enough about Kevin. I asked you over here for another reason. I want to hear all about your plans,” Delia said again. “I want to hear every single thing you have in mind for that house.”

Despite all the revelations she wanted time to absorb, Gracie was only too eager to finally talk over her plans with someone who seemed as enthusiastic about the bed-and-breakfast as she was. She practically talked herself hoarse, her excitement mounting with every word.

“Oh, my, yes. That sounds lovely.” Delia’s eyes sparkled. “We’ll do it,” she declared after an hour of bombarding Gracie with more questions.

Gracie stared. “Excuse me?”

“You and I, we’ll do it. It will do me good to see that old house spruced up and filled with people again.”

“But…”

“You think I’m too old to get involved in a project the size of this, don’t you?”

“It’s not that,” Gracie protested.

“It’s just that you don’t want a partner then,” Delia guessed, looking disappointed.

Actually, it was the fact that Kevin was going to have her hide for dragging his aunt into a scheme of which he disapproved. Besides which, this would effectively rob Kevin of a house that was legally already his.

“Don’t worry about Kevin,” Delia said as if she’d read Gracie’s mind. “He’ll come around when he sees it’s something I want to do.”

“But you said you’d already put the house in his name. How can you turn around and do something like this?” Gracie protested. “Is it even legal?”

“I told you, Kevin sees the name on the deed as a technicality. As far as he’s concerned, that house is mine to do with as I choose. And I choose to see it turned into a bed-and-breakfast,” she added with a touch of defiance. “You and I can work out an arrangement. Kevin won’t mind at all. It’ll just be one less worry. Goodness knows, he has plenty of them without me adding to the list.”

Gracie wasn’t even remotely convinced he’d see it that way. “Maybe you should think this over,” she said. “We both should.”

Delia’s disappointment was evident, but she nodded. “We’ll talk tomorrow then.” She winked. “But I can promise you I won’t change my mind.”

17

“M
et your Gracie yesterday,” Molly told Kevin at breakfast the day after his trip to Richmond.

He almost choked on his coffee. “Excuse me? Gracie was here?”

“With your aunt. Thick as thieves they were.”

Kevin scowled at the housekeeper. She looked as if she were enjoying dropping this bombshell a little too much. He had a hunch she’d been chosen to be the messenger of this juicy tidbit. Even though his trips to Richmond were rare, he’d obviously made one too many.

“Any idea how this came about?” he inquired, facing the fact that such a meeting had probably been inevitable.

“All I know is I made them tea and some of those little cakes your aunt likes so much.”

“So Gracie didn’t just drop by unexpectedly.”

“No, indeed. She was invited, all right. Your aunt was busy planning it for days.”

“Any idea what they talked about?”

“You, the house, this and that.”

“If you were listening at the keyhole, the least you could have done was get more details.”

“I didn’t have to resort to that. Your aunt filled me in
over supper. Told me as much as she wanted me to know.”

“You and my aunt are entirely too chummy. You know that, don’t you?”

“We have things in common.”

“Such as?”

“This and that.”

“I could fire you for insubordination,” he mused speculatively. “Probably should.”

“But you won’t,” she said with confidence.

“Why is that?”

“I know all your sins, going way back.”

“Sins? What sins? You always said I was your precious angel,” he retorted.

She grinned at him. “I’m biased. Doesn’t mean the rest of the world would see you the same way.”

“I’m not running for political office, Molly. Doesn’t matter much what skeletons come tumbling out of my closet.”

“If you say so.”

Kevin turned serious. “Molly, what did happen here yesterday?”

“Ask your aunt.”

“She needs looking out for. I don’t want anyone, even Gracie, taking advantage of her.”

“I know you love Delia,” Molly soothed. “But she’s got all her wits about her, Kevin. There’s no need to worry. No one’s going to take advantage of Delia. If you ask me, Gracie’s the one who’s in over her head. Looked downright bemused, when she left here yesterday.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Ask your aunt,” Molly repeated, and firmly shut the kitchen door behind her.

Kevin mulled over the enigmatic remark most of the morning. It turned out his aunt had slipped out of the house at the crack of dawn to get her hair done. A neighbor had stopped by to take her. Molly claimed to be as surprised as he was that Delia had made a clean getaway.

He was resting in his hammock, pondering the implications of Gracie’s little tea with his aunt, when he heard a car door slam. He could have gone to investigate, but he suspected Molly would see to it that his aunt found him. Sure enough, a few minutes later she was heading his way. He got a subtle whiff of her lily of the valley perfume just before she arrived.

“I brought you a fresh lemonade,” Delia said, handing him the glass.

“A peace offering?” he inquired, opening his eyes to gauge her reaction. He was so startled by the sight that greeted him, he almost choked on the first sip. “What the devil happened to you?”

Her hand fluttered up toward her shorn hair. “I like it,” she said defensively. “It’s stylish and easy to care for.”

“It’s red, for heaven’s sakes.”

“Strawberry blond, actually.”

“What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I ought to spruce up a bit if I’m going into business.”

Kevin concluded he needed something much stronger than lemonade to hear the rest of this. He made do with a long, slow swallow of the beverage at hand. The tart drink only added to the acid already churning in his stomach.

“Maybe you’d better sit down and tell me exactly what’s going on,” he suggested quietly. “From the beginning.”

She regarded him with a stubborn set to her chin. “I don’t have to answer to you, you know.”

“Humor me then. I’d like to hear what you’re up to. I’m guessing it has something to do with Gracie’s little visit yesterday.”

His aunt beamed at him. “What a lovely young woman! No wonder you’re so fond of her.”

“How did she happen to be here for tea, when I specifically asked you to stay away from her?”

“Kevin, you are my nephew and I love you, but you do not get to run my life. If I want to make new friends, there’s not a thing in the world you can do about it.”

He gritted his teeth. “So you just happened to pick Gracie to become your new friend?”

“Well, of course, I wanted to get to know someone you’re so obviously fond of. I just wish I’d insisted on inviting her out here sooner. She’s been so many interesting places, had so many fascinating experiences.”

“Couldn’t you have waited until I introduced you?”

“I might not have that many years left,” she said wryly. “You tend to be stubborn.”

He sighed. “Okay, I suppose there’s no harm done. Have you satisfied your curiosity? Is this the end of it?”

She toyed with her lace-edged hankie, twisted it nervously into a knot. She also avoided looking directly at him. Her reaction was not encouraging.

“Not exactly,” she conceded.

The business, he thought with an impending sense of doom. How could he have forgotten? “Tell me,” he said grimly.

“Gracie and I were talking,” she began, then beamed at him again. “My, she does have some exciting ideas for that bed-and-breakfast of hers.”

“She shared that with you?”

“Yes, indeed. I asked about it, of course. I could just
see how lovely it would be. Have you heard what she has in mind or have you been too stubborn about that, too?”

“There’s not going to be any bed-and-breakfast,” he said fiercely. “The details don’t matter.”

“Well, they did to me. Did you know I once envisioned operating a gracious old inn myself?”

“Did you really?” he asked skeptically. “This is the first I’ve ever heard of that.”

“You know how it is. Life takes us down a different path and things change.”

Something in her voice alerted him that there was more to this than he’d ever imagined. Delia had never talked about lost dreams before. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You actually wanted to operate an inn?”

“As a matter of fact, I did. I doubt you remember much about the old Colonial Beach Hotel, but it was something in its heyday. There were galas, famous guests from the cream of Virginia society.” She sighed. “Of course I was much too young to attend such things, but I heard about them. Mama and Daddy went several times. I always thought how wonderful that hotel would be if it could become a family resort with old-fashioned games on the front lawn, croquet, badminton, that sort of thing.”

Kevin was astounded by the amount of thought she’d apparently given the idea. “Did you ever consider buying it?”

“Women in my generation didn’t do such things, but actually, yes, I did consider it. I even made a few discreet inquiries before it was torn down.”

“What happened?”

Her expression clouded over. “This and that.”

“Aunt Delia?” he prodded. “Tell me.”

She reached over and squeezed his hand. “It doesn’t
matter now. It wouldn’t have been the right thing for me, I’m sure. Still, I can’t help imagining what it would have been like.”

“So you identify with Gracie’s dream, is that it?”

“More than you can imagine.”

His gaze narrowed. “She didn’t take advantage of that, did she?”

Aunt Delia looked startled. “Take advantage? What do you mean?”

“I mean, did she use it to try to get you to take her side, maybe sell her the house behind my back.” His gaze narrowed. “Did you tell her you own the house?”

“What if I did?” she said defensively. “It’s my decision to make.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” he said wearily. “How’d she take the news?”

“Needless to say, she was surprised.”

“And mad as a wet hen at me, no doubt.”

“Truth be told, your name almost never entered the conversation, not until the very end anyway.”

He wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or insulted by that. “And what happened at the very end?” he asked.

She scowled at him. “Stop rushing me. I’m getting to that.”

“Sorry.”

“Actually, we’ve made a deal.”

His stomach sank. “A deal? You and Gracie?”

“That’s right,” she said, regarding him defiantly.

“You’re going to sell her the house?”

“Eventually.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that we’ll work something out so the house will be hers, just not right away.”

“And in the meantime?”

She smiled happily. “In the meantime, we’ll be partners.”

“Partners,” Kevin repeated slowly. “You and Gracie are going to be partners.”

“Exactly.”

“Over my dead body.”

Her chin jutted up determinedly. “If that’s what it takes.”

He stared at her in amazement. Something told him she meant it, too. “What did she do to you?” he asked wearily.

His aunt reached out and patted his hand consolingly. “Darling, please don’t be upset. You should be thanking her. She gave me back my dream.”

Kevin forced himself to wait before confronting Gracie. He wanted to mull over this latest turn of events, consider the wistful expression on his aunt’s face when she’d talked about her lost dream.

He waited, he mulled until after dinner, then he mulled some more. By midnight, he’d worked up a pretty good head of steam. In fact, as he drove to Gracie’s, he was mad enough to tear that old Victorian down all by himself, board by board, to prevent this idiotic scheme from ever happening.

To his satisfaction, the lights at Gracie’s were out. He figured catching her off guard and half asleep was probably a very good idea. She had a sneaky habit of getting her way when she was operating on all cylinders.

Of course, he hadn’t taken into account the effect of her opening the door, looking all sleepy and tousled and sexy as the dickens. It took a little of the edge off his anger and did dangerous things to his body. Lust slammed through him like a freight train.

The oversize T-shirt she was wearing could have covered a tackle for the Washington Redskins, but in his mind’s eye every curve was revealed. The blasted thing ended above her knees…way above her knees. She was barefooted and at some point she’d painted bright red, kick-ass polish on her toenails. His gaze locked on those feet, and the desire to sweep her into his arms and haul her right back to her bedroom was almost uncontrollable. Almost.

“Kevin?”

Her sleepy, sexy, confused voice snapped him back to reality. He wasn’t here to take her to bed. He was here to get a few things straight. He pushed past her and went inside. He aimed straight for a chair, since sitting next to her on the room’s only other furniture—a cozy little sofa—seemed like a very risky idea.

“We have to talk.”

She eyed him cautiously. “Is this going to be a long talk or do you intend to yell, then leave once you’ve had your say?”

“It’s hard to say. Why?”

“I could use some coffee, if you actually want to have a conversation.”

“Fine. Make the coffee,” he said, and trailed after her into the kitchen.

He sat at the kitchen table and watched her efficient movements. Whenever a little bolt of lust slammed through him, he worked at controlling it. He was getting pretty good with so much practice, he concluded. By the same token, he was crankier than ever by the time she finally sat down with a mug of coffee in hand.