Working It Out (16 page)

Seth’s arm came around her back, and Grace let him pull
her close. His hand moved up and down her arm in a soothing gesture, but he
said nothing. Which was a relief. How many times had she heard, “It wasn’t your
fault. It was an accident. Stop blaming yourself.” How many times had people
tried to comfort her using words that did absolutely no good?

“Do you think your brother still blames you?” Seth
finally said.

Grace rested her head against his shoulder, soaking up his
warmth and his strength. “No, but I still blame myself.”

Seth nodded. “Who wouldn’t?”

Grace lifted her head and looked him in the eye. It was
one of those rare moments when they didn’t twinkle back. Instead, they were
filled with understanding and sympathy. “I still feel as horrible as I did that
day the doctor told us the news,” she said.

Seth’s fingers moved to brush some hair from her face
then trailed down her cheek, leaving a myriad of goose bumps in its wake.
“Which is exactly why you should help him work out and be there when he gives
skiing another try.”

That was the last thing Grace had expected to hear. The
touch that had been so soothing, so wonderful, suddenly felt like a jolt, and
she jerked away. “What?”

 His arm fell from around her shoulders, making Grace
shiver even with her hoodie on. “Why do you feel so guilty, Grace?”

Wasn’t it obvious? “Because my brother’s a paraplegic.”

“Yes, but what you really feel guilty about is that he can’t
do the things he used to be able to, right? That everyday things are hard for
him?”

Where was Seth going with this? “Well, yeah. I basically took
his life away.”

Seth leaned back on the palm of his hands, and a little
of that teasing spark darkened his eyes. “No you didn’t, Grace. Learning to do
the things he used to do will make him feel alive again. But if you fight this,
if you try to take that away . . .” He voice drifted off.

Grace frowned, not liking that perspective at all. “So
I’m supposed to put on a positive face and help get his body back into shape,
only to watch him risk it again doing crazy stunts?”

“Yes.”

That seemed so wrong to her. So opposite of everything
she felt. Besides, there was so much more to life than skiing or mountain
biking. Why couldn’t Seth and Alec see that?

“Life isn’t all about having fun, you know,” she said. “It’s
about learning and growing, making a difference and doing something meaningful.
Why can’t Alec focus on that instead?”

Seth studied her for a moment, his expression thoughtful.
“You’re right, there’s more to life than fun. You’re the one who taught me
that. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have fun while doing all those other
things, and I think we can both agree that your brother is in some serious need
of some fun in his life.”

Grace suddenly felt all antsy and out of sorts. It
happened every time she felt so sure about something, only to be proven wrong.
She hated being wrong, especially if it made Seth right. “I don’t like you very
much right now.”

A chuckle sounded, and Seth’s arm came around her once
again, pulling her up against him. “Then it’s a good thing I like you enough
for the both of us,” he said, making her feel even more out of sorts, only in a
different way. He nodded toward his door. “What do you say we go inside and
blow this off with some boxing?”

“What?” Was he serious? Grace leaned to the side so she
could see his face.

“You do want to punch me, right?”

He
was
serious—well, as serious as Seth could be
when he was teasing her. “Yeah,” she said, wondering where this was going.

His arm fell from around her, and he stood, holding out
his hand for her to take. “Then come inside and punch away.”

Grace couldn’t help but smile. How could she resist an
invitation like that? But she should resist. She should walk back to her car,
climb in, and leave temptation behind. If only he weren’t smiling at her in
that way and making her feel all warm and bubbly. Grace couldn’t bring herself
to say no. “Only if you have some kind of chocolate and nut combination to
offer.” There, that was her out. If Seth didn’t have something that fit the
description, Grace would leave. She would.

His eyes practically twinkled. “Does Rocky Road count?”

It was like he knew Rocky Road was one of her favorite ice-cream
flavors—one she always turned to when life went sour. Like tonight.

Whatever willpower Grace had left slipped through the
cracks, and she found herself placing her hand in his and allowing him to pull
her up.

He had promised she could punch him.

L
ight
footsteps echoed
behind Seth as he led the way to his kitchen. Tonight
had definitely taken an unexpected turn for the better, and Seth planned to
milk it for all it was worth. The odds of Grace ever showing up on his doorstep
were slim to none. The odds of her coming inside, even slimmer. Yet here they
were, on a mission to find Rocky Road ice cream in Seth’s freezer. Thank goodness
he had some.

Owen had brought over a pint one night, right after
Seth’s surgery. Since Seth didn’t have the heart to tell him he hated the
stuff, it had sat there, uneaten. Seth kept meaning to throw it out, but hadn’t
gotten around to doing it, and now he was glad. From here on out, he’d keep his
freezer stocked, just in case Grace happened by again. If Seth had beaten the
odds once, who knew? Maybe it would happen again.

Seth strode to his freezer and pulled out the ice cream. He
slid it across his granite countertop toward Grace and pulled out a spoon,
holding it out to her. “It’s all yours.”

Grace eyed the spoon before meeting his gaze. “You don’t
want any?”

“I’ll let you have the honors tonight.”

Grace accepted the spoon with a frown. “But I make it a
point to never eat in front of anyone—especially not ice cream. That would be so
. . . wrong.”

Seth leaned against the counter and folded his arms,
still not quite sure how he’d managed to get Grace inside, sitting on one of
his barstools. The way she now watched him expectantly made the whole scene
feel surreal. “You’ll have to get over it, because I hate the stuff. It doesn’t
even taste like normal chocolate, and then there’s the whole soggy nut thing.”
He screwed up his face. “Not a fan.”

Eyebrow arched, Grace asked, “Why is it in your freezer
then?”

“On the off chance you stopped by.” Seth gave her a
lopsided smile. “I had a feeling it was one of your favorites and planned to
use it to coerce you inside. It worked.”

Grace pried the lid of the ice cream open, only to frown.
“How long has it been in your freezer, exactly?”

Seth leaned forward and peered inside. Shiny, chocolately
goo covered in ice crystals stared back, looking nastier than normal. He wanted
to simultaneously laugh and groan. “From the looks of it, a really long time,”
he finally said. “You should’ve come sooner.”

Grace’s lips started to twitch. A quiet snort sounded,
followed by a snicker, then full on laughter. Grace pushed the ice cream away
and rested her head on the counter as she laughed and laughed. Seth recognized
the sound. It was the kind of uncontrollable laugh that came after someone had
officially lost it.

Calm, collected, impenetrable Grace had lost it. In
Seth’s kitchen. The thought made him smile—as did the image of her with her
face buried in her arms, shoulders shaking. Seth wanted to pry her off the
counter and let his shoulder muffle her laughter, or better yet, his mouth.
Instead, he walked around the island and pulled up a chair next to her. He rested
his elbow on the counter and propped his head up with his hand as he watched
her, amused.

When she finally raised her head, she had to wipe a few
tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t know
what’s wrong with me. It really wasn’t that funny.”

“No kidding.”

Grace wiped at her eyes once again then looked around. “Let
me guess, the ‘boxing’ you referred to involves those large blow-up gloves that
don’t do any real damage.”

“Nope.” Seth grinned. “More like the computerized kind
called Xbox Kinect. Feel free to punch me to your heart’s content.”

The giggles started all over again, and Grace reburied
her head in her arms. Her soft brown hair fell to the side as her shoulders
shook, and Seth couldn’t resist reaching out to touch it. As his fingers lightly
combed through hair that was softer and smoother than it looked, Grace’s
shoulders stopped shaking and her head raised slowly. A worried, almost anxious,
expression appeared on her face as she returned his gaze.

Normally, Seth would shrug and say something
light-hearted—something that would erase the nervous tension, like “Sorry,
thought I saw some gray for a second.” But he didn’t feel like lightening the
mood. He felt like closing the gap between them and seeing if her lips were as
soft as her hair.

His hand cupped her chin, and his thumb lightly touched
her lower lip. She sucked in breath but didn’t move. Ever so slowly, Seth’s fingers
moved along her jaw, brushing away her hair before cupping the back of her
neck. Then he leaned closer, watching her face, her eyes, trying to gauge what
would happen if he really did try to kiss her. Would she let him? She wasn’t
moving away, so he leaned even closer, until his mouth was a breath away from
hers.

She drew in a shuddering breath, still not moving or saying
anything. Seth took it as a positive sign and closed the gap, covering her lips
with his. Just like he expected, they were warm and soft and moist and . . .
moving against his—responding. Almost immediately, something ignited inside Seth,
spreading through his body like an amazing adrenaline rush. Never before had a
kiss felt this right, this powerful. Grace intoxicated him.

His fingers threaded through her hair, pulling her closer.
When he felt the touch of her hand on his arm and her fingers curling around
it, a thrill shot through Seth. As much as Grace tried to fight it or say she
didn’t want it, she was enjoying this as much as he was. Encouraged, Seth
leaned in closer, pressing her against the counter as his mouth moved over
hers, searching, seeking, and finding.

A murmur escaped her lips, and Seth left his seat behind
as his other arm found its way around her back. She fit against him perfectly,
as if her body had been molded as the perfect counterpart to his. Nothing had
ever felt so good or right.

 The strains of U2’s “Pride” sounded, invading the moment
like an annoying fly buzzing around. Seth ignored it, hoping Grace would too,
but after a few seconds, her body started to stiffen, and her hands moved from
his back to his chest, pushing him gently away. Seth wanted to curse and shove
the phone down the garbage disposal. This wasn’t how he wanted the kiss to end,
not with Grace pushing him away.

His mouth left hers, and he suddenly felt bereft. U2
finally went away, and Seth held Grace’s gaze, willing the fear and concern he
saw in her eyes to dissipate. His hands moved gently up and down her arms as he
searched for the right words to say, something that would replace the fear with
happiness. Something that would bring back her smile and laughter.

But the strains of U2 filled the silence once again, and Seth
felt like cursing.

“You should answer that,” Grace finally said.

“Not until you agree that what just happened wasn’t a
mistake.”

Anxiety appeared in her eyes. She looked away, drawing her
lower lip into her mouth. A moment later she moved away from him, sliding out
of her chair.

“Grace, don’t go,” Seth said. “Please. We need to talk
about this.”

She shook her head as the phone started to ring for the
third time. “I’ve got to go. And you really should get that. It’s probably
important.”

Seth walked around the island, grabbed the phone, and shoved
it into the refrigerator, shutting the door firmly on a song he would never
like again. His palms landed on the cold, granite counter as his eyes pleaded
with hers. “Grace, please.”

A spark of humor appeared in her eyes. “Is that supposed
to make your battery last longer?” She probably meant it to lighten the mood,
but Seth wasn’t interested in joking around right now, not when so much was on
the line.

“No,” he said. “It’s supposed to make whoever that is go
away. We need to talk, Grace.”

The humor left Grace’s eyes, and she took a step back. “I
think it would be best to pretend that never happened.”

“No.” Seth pushed away from the counter and started
toward her, but when she retreated once again, he stopped. “There’s no way I
could ever forget that kiss, and I doubt you can either.”

Wrong thing to say, because she shook her head
emphatically then turned and bolted for the door. It took Seth grabbing hold of
the counter to keep himself from running after her. The slamming of his front
door echoed through his house, sounding like a buzzer signaling the end of a
game or match—one that he’d lost big-time.