Falling for Grace (18 page)

Gracie chewed the inside of her lip. Last
thing she wanted to do was get Izzie into trouble but she figured
Carson had a right to know.

“
She didn’t,” he
said.

“
She did.”

He studied her for a moment. “Did she get
her good?” A hint of a grin flashed across his lips.

Gracie clamped her lips between her teeth,
not wanting to smile, and slowly nodded. “Afraid so. New hairdoo,
too.”

Carson glanced off. “Well. I’ll have to talk
to her.”

Gracie nodded. “You do that.”

Then before she realized it, both of them
burst into laughter. After a minute, Gracie had to hold her
sides.

“
It’s really not funny,”
she told him.

“
I know. I’m going to have
to punish her.”

“
You should have seen Bets
face.” Gracie giggled. “If she wasn’t so furious, she would have
laughed herself.”

Carson took a breath and tried to control
himself. “I’m glad I didn’t see it. It would be hard to keep a
straight face while setting Izzie straight. That child.” He shook
his head and then looked back at Gracie. “Thanks for telling me.
Please don’t keep things like that from me. It’s hard enough doing
this parent thing on my own.”

Gracie thought about that for a minute, her
smile turning serious. She was sure what he said was the truth.
“So, what about Izzie’s mother, Carson? Does Izzie ever get to
spend time with her?”

His expression took a sudden dive into
seriousness, too. Shaking his head, he simply said, “No.”

Gracie let it lie. A few moments later he
added, “Izzie’s mom and I divorced three years ago. She left us to
pursue an acting career in California. She’s not seen Izzie since.
We’ve caught glimpses of her on commercials from time to time and
once in a while she calls or sends a gift. That’s about the extent
of it.”

The mood was changed and Gracie realized
that Carson was finished with that subject. She felt no need to
pursue it further. Even though she knew she’d think about that for
some time to come. Poor Izzie.

A clap of thunder sounded in the distance
and each of them glanced toward the sound. A few seconds later a
streak of lightning snaked across the sky.

“
Cool front coming in,”
Carson offered. “Looks like it might storm. I’ll get that freezer
now.” He stood and Gracie stood, too.

“
I already took care of
it.”

“
Oh?” He glanced about and
sat back down again. So did Gracie. “I told you I would do
it.”

“
I know. I just finished
with everything else and it only took a minute.”

Still sitting opposite her, Carson once
again tented his fingers and Gracie continued to glance around,
trying not to stare at him.

Thing was, she liked looking at him. Those
eyes, which had caught her off guard from the very first time
they’d met, mesmerized her each time his gaze took hold and held.
Even small, skittering glances, where their gazes flitted and
danced around one another caught her in a web of enchantment and
made her only want to stare into them all the more.

“
May I ask you a
question?”

Carson nodded slowly. “Sure.”

“
Was it you who tucked me
into bed the other night?”

Again, their gazes locked and Gracie was
determined not to let hers skitter away this time. The question had
rattled through her mind for two days. She needed to know.

Finally, he dropped his chin in a nod.
“Yes,” he replied in a low voice. “Your friends sort of abandoned
you and I was left to the task.”

A task. Now she was a task.

“
Ah. I see.” Her gaze
skittered then.

“
Not that I minded,
however.”

“
Oh.”

“
I think your friends
planned it though.”

Gracie frowned. The little matchmakers. “I
wouldn’t put it past them. I apologize.”

Shaking his head, he replied, “Don’t
apologize.” Then his voice lowered, became soft. “I told you, I
didn’t mind.”

Gracie looked back at him. He looked
questioningly into her eyes. She wasn’t quite sure what she should
say back to that. A small shiver snaked down her spine and she had
to really concentrate not to let her whole body shiver. “Well,
thank you for taking care of me,” she finally said. “I’m not quite
sure what possessed me that evening. It’s actually, um, it was a
little embarrassing. I usually don’t do things like that.”

A smile cracked Carson’s face. “I know that.
No need to be embarrassed.” His smile broadened then. “You were
pretty darned cute, you know.”

Suddenly, Gracie felt hot and flushed. “Well
gee, if I’d known before now that I was a cute drunk, I’d have done
it long ago.”

Chuckling, Carson dropped his hands and
stood. In one movement, he stepped the distance between them and
sat beside Gracie on the lounge chair. “Well, as cute as you were,
I really don’t think it’s you.”

Gracie bit her lip. “You know, I don’t think
it’s me, either.”

They sat for a minute, thunder still gently
rolling in the background, studying the stars. Gracie studied
Carson’s profile while he looked to the sky. A moment later, he
slowly turned toward her, leaned closer, and before she knew it,
had touched his lips to hers in a soft, slow kiss.

It was only a brief kiss but very sweet.
When Gracie opened her eyes, she saw Carson staring back at her.
Her heart pounded then and she wasn’t quite sure she was
breathing.

A moment of silence fell between them and
then Carson spoke. “Mind if I ask you a question?” He said
softly.

Gracie continued to study his face, her
heart fluttering. “No. I don’t mind.”

He glanced away for several seconds then
turned back to her. “When I tucked you into bed the other night, I
couldn’t help but notice the photos on your lamp table. I thought
you might tell me about them.”

Gracie was stunned. That question came from
way out in left field and there was no way she was prepared for it.
That small kiss, and her wonder as to why he kissed her, was all
but forgotten. Hesitantly, she pushed away, stood and walked toward
the edge of the deck, facing out over the parking lot. Several
minutes passed and she didn’t answer him.

She didn’t know how to answer him. She
rarely talked about it with anyone. And if she did talk about it,
it was with Amie or Constance, who were both women and understood.
She’d never once discussed it with a man. At least a man she was
attracted to.

“
I’m sorry. I guess it’s
personal. I shouldn’t have asked.”

She heard Carson rise and step toward her
back door. Turning, she watched as he reached for the door
knob.

“
Which picture do you want
to know about?” she called out softly. It was an impromptu
decision, but she was glad after she’d blurted it out. For some
reason, she didn’t want him walking away. Not yet.

He stopped and turned, dropping his hand to
his side. His gaze met hers again and for some reason, she wanted
to tell him something. Perhaps not all and definitely not every
detail. But something.

“
The one of you,” he told
her quietly, “as a ballerina.”

She thought for a moment, then from
somewhere deep inside, she mustered up the words. “Ten years ago, I
was a ballet dancer. In New York. For five years of my life. I’d
studied as a child. It was all I ever wanted to do.” It was more
than she’d planned on telling him.

“
But you don’t do it
anymore?”

She shook her head.

“
Why?”

“
It’s...complicated.”

“
I’d like to
hear.”

“
Someday, maybe. Not
now.”

Nodding, he conceded and paused the
conversation for a moment. Then he asked, “And the other picture?”
She had a feeling that was the one he was most interested in
knowing about. Did he think she had a lover somewhere? Did that
bother him?

Gracie lifted her chin and again called upon
that ball of courage deep in her gut to find the words. “He was my
fiancé,” she simply said.

Carson swallowed and stared at her. “Key
word being ‘was’.”

“
Yes.”

“
So he’s not your fiancé
any more?”

“
No,” she
replied.

“
What
happened?”

Gracie felt the tears beginning to sting the
backs of her eyelids, so she decided to get this over with as
quickly as possible.

“
He died,” she told him.
“The same night my ballet career died.”

Then not wanting to discuss any of it
further, she quietly stepped around him and escaped to the solitude
of her apartment. Where she belonged.

Her dreams that night were laced with
confused visions of her lost love and feelings of hope as the
warmth of Carson’s brief kiss invaded her dreams.

* * * *

The next evening Gracie sat near the center
of her bed, Izzie sitting cross-legged in front of her, Claire
curled up in a ball in Izzie’s lap, and Bandit chewing on an old
shoe at the foot of her bed.

Reaching out, Gracie gently grasped another
strand of Izzie’s hair and ran a brush over it. Continuing to brush
the child’s long curls, Gracie found herself smiling. Brushing
Izzie’s hair was soothing and relaxing and she enjoyed it very
much. Just bathed and dressed in her pajamas, Izzie smelled of
powder and soap. The hair closest to her scalp was slightly damp,
she noticed, the results of running bath water to your chin.

It was a pleasant and contented scene and
Gracie was immensely enjoying herself. Claire was quite satisfied
being the receiver of Izzie’s ministrations and Bandit was happy
just to chew.

Gracie was happy just to have Izzie for the
evening. The child had bathed in her tub, bubbles and all, while
Gracie had pampered her like a little six-year-old girl should be
pampered. Well, perhaps maybe she might have even gone overboard
just a tad.

She’d lit some Aromatherapy candles in the
bathroom and burned some incense while a favorite classical piece
played low in the background. She’d even allowed Izzie to soak in
the tub and drink a flute of Sprite while she bathed.

The child had looked so cute, her hair all
piled on her head, bubbles up to her chin, the crystal flute
dangling from her fingertips, black smudges still on her face from
where she’d crawled under the deck earlier.

She was spoiling the child, she knew. But
she also knew that Izzie needed girlie things—even if she thought
she didn’t want girlie things. And Gracie needed to give her girlie
things.

She’d worked hard all day and was immensely
glad to be able to relax with Izzie. Hard work and concentrating on
the child kept her mind off of the one thing it kept wanting to
drift to all day long. Carson.

Their conversation the night before had
dredged up the nightmares of her past. Her sleep was interrupted
with faces and images and she hadn’t slept well. But worse than
that were the images of Carson’s face that popped into her head all
day long, along with the phrases he’d used the night before which
made her wonder just where his thoughts were leading.

She was confused. Not only about him, but
about how she felt for him.

“
Do you think I should cut
my hair?” Izzie asked then, startling her from her
musings.

“
No!” Gracie quickly
answered, diverting her attention back to the child. “Why would you
think of cutting this beautiful hair?”

“
It gets in my way. I was
thinking I’d like it better cut like a boy’s.”

“
Oh, Izzie, it’s
beautiful! You don’t want to cut it. Besides, it’s all grown out
now and you can simply put it in a ponytail if it gets in your way.
When it’s shorter and growing out, you can’t do that.”

“
I know. That’s what Daddy
said.”

“
Well, you’re Daddy is
right.”

“
Her Daddy is right about
what?”

Gracie looked up, startled that Carson had
entered her bedroom. Evidently, from the look on his face, he was
startled that she was startled.

“
I knocked, I guess you
two didn’t hear me. The door was open, I just thought I’d step on
in...”

Gracie waved her hand and smiled trying to
act nonchalant. “No, don’t be silly. Of course it’s all right.”

This was the first she’d seen of Carson all
day and even though it was a little unnerving to have him step into
her bedroom, she tried to act relaxed—for Izzie’s sake. She’d felt
a little guilty that she hadn’t given him a chance to further
discuss her ballet career or Evan’s death last night. She’d quickly
bid him goodnight and slipped inside her back door, leaving him
alone on the deck.

The storm blew in a few minutes later.

Gracie rather liked, and was thankful for,
the pounding of the rain and the howling of the winds against her
windows. It made her tears and emotions feel all the less
significant. She’d cried herself to sleep that night, unsure of
whether she was sad about her past, or the uncertainty of her
future.

Both bothered her. Both were difficult for
her get a handle on.

“
Izzie was asking me about
getting her hair cut,” she finally said to Carson.

“
And you told her no,
right?” Allowing a grin, she nodded. “I told her her hair was too
beautiful to cut and that a ponytail should still work just fine
for her right now.”

Carson nodded in agreement. “Thanks.” He
shuffled from one foot to the other. “Do you mind tucking her in
for me tonight? We’ve got a big birthday crowd coming in a few
minutes downstairs and I might not be able to get away when I’d
like.”