Chapter Sixteen
Are you sure you don’t mind?” Grace asked Skye as they loaded up the afternoon’s deliveries in the van. Stu had stormed from the bakery after the press conference, accusing Grace of being just like his wife. He didn’t give her a chance to explain. Instead, he roughly shoved the van’s keys at her and quit.
Grace was grateful that Skye had stuck around when Madison left to drop off little Jack at the sitter on her way to a meeting at the town hall.
“For the last time, no, I don’t mind,” Skye said as she got in the white van. “Now go talk to your husband.”
“Thanks, Skye. I will.” Hopefully he was in the mood to listen.
She hadn’t heard from him since she’d lost it in the bakery, and he hadn’t responded to her phone calls and texts. Her cheeks heated at the memory of how she’d acted. Yes, her rat fink sister-in-law and Maria had pushed her beyond her limits, but Grace should’ve known better and kept her temper in check. She couldn’t lose Jack, not over a misunderstanding. And that’s why, after her last attempt to reach him, she decided to head to the house on Sugar Plum Lane and explain to him face-to-face.
It would’ve been hard enough for him to hear that she’d said good-bye to him that night, but to hear it in the way that he had, in the middle of a press conference with everyone looking on, must’ve been unbearable. There was nothing he valued more than honesty—honesty and trust. A small part of her rebelled at the thought he expected her to trust there was no longer anything between him and Maria. A woman who with every look, with every action, said she wanted Jack and she intended to have him.
Grace’s pulse kicked up at the thought, and she opened the door to the bakery, calling out to the pretty brunette with the purple streaks in her hair. “Desiree, if you’re okay, I’ll leave now. I should be back in about an hour.”
The twenty-four-year-old looked up from spraying the display case with glass cleaner and took in the two teenage girls sitting at the table by the window. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”
But it was. And five minutes after searching the apartment from top to bottom, Grace returned to the bakery.
Desiree lifted a pierced brow. “How come you’re back so soon?”
“I couldn’t find Jack’s keys to the truck.” She tried not to think of him tearing up the mountain roads on his bike. She’d been worried ever since she’d seen him take off on his Harley, looking big, bad, and very mad.
“You can borrow my bike if you want,” Desiree offered.
“That’s a great idea. Thanks.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Grace realized accepting Desiree’s offer had been a bad idea. Her breath sawed painfully in and out as she pedaled up the hill, sweat dripping into her eyes. She swiped a hand across her brow, then pulled her pink ruffled, sleeveless blouse from where it stuck to her chest. She hadn’t realized how out of shape she was until now.
A relieved breath pushed past her dry throat upon reaching the top of the hill. Then noting the steep descent, she groaned, “Oh no.” So much for taking the shortcut to Sugar Plum Lane. With a light squeeze to her brakes, she stopped pedaling and prayed. She sailed down the hill like a four-year-old who’d had her training wheels removed for the first time. At Grace’s squawk of panic, two older women toddling up the sidewalk stopped to look at her.
From behind came the roar of an engine, and Grace nervously edged closer to the curb, veering to the right to avoid getting hit when a red Mustang zoomed past her. The bicycle’s tire bounced against the sidewalk at an awkward angle, causing an out-of-control wobble. Grace lost her balance, and both she and the bike toppled over.
“Are you all right, dear?” the older woman with blue-gray hair asked, shuffling to her side.
“Yes, thank you,” Grace said, as she levered herself up on her hands and knees, wincing at the sharp sting in her palms.
The woman’s friend righted the bike while Grace unsteadily came to her feet. “Hooligan. We should call the sheriff,” the stern-faced woman muttered, scowling after the Mustang that turned onto Sugar Plum Lane.
The woman was right. They should call Gage, Grace thought as the car took the corner at a dangerous speed. She went back to brushing off her black pants and winced. The left knee was torn, and there were dark streaks where she’d wiped off the dirt. She turned over her hands to discover they were scraped and bleeding. Pulling tissues from their purses, the older women made sympathetic noises. With their help, Grace cleaned herself up. Five minutes later, she’d set herself to rights and thanked the two women, inviting them to stop by the bakery anytime for a complimentary coffee and cupcake.
Grace walked the bike to the bottom of the hill, then got back on, releasing a pained yelp when she tightened her grip on the handlebars. This, she decided, was one of the worst ideas she’d ever had. The feeling increased tenfold when she turned onto the tree-lined street and saw the red Mustang parked in front of the pink Victorian. Maria, who still had on the sexy white body-hugging halter dress, stood with Jack and Sawyer in the front yard.
Grace’s gaze dropped self-consciously to the old-school blue metallic bike and her conservative clothes. Well, it wasn’t as if she could wear a dress while riding a bike, now, was it? she thought peevishly, putting on the brakes. She got off the bike and started toward them. Jack said something to Maria, and the gorgeous brunette tossed her long hair like a model in a shampoo commercial. Grace pictured what her own sweat-dampened hair must look like beneath the pink Hello Kitty helmet, and lost her nerve. She went to wheel the bike around before they saw her. At least Jack was safe. She’d call him once she got back to the bakery.
Then she heard his low, raspy laugh, and a spurt of temper overcame her self-consciousness. She spun the bike around. He wouldn’t be laughing when he found out that Maria had run her off the road. Dragging in a going-into-battle breath, she straightened her shoulders and strode down the sidewalk to the house. Sawyer saw her and nudged Jack.
Her husband glanced over his shoulder, his gaze moving from the bike to her head. His lips twitched. “Hey, I was just going to call you,” he said as he started toward her.
Sure he was, she thought, with a hard kick to the stand. She went to meet him on the path, then remembered she had on the stupid helmet. She didn’t know which was worse, leaving it on or taking it off. She took it off. “I’ve been trying to call you. I was worried about you.”
He opened his mouth, then frowned. “What happened?” Crouching in front of her, he gently moved the torn fabric to check out her knee.
“Maria ran me off the road.”
He blinked. “Come again?”
She told him what had happened, and he came to his feet. Aiming a censorious look at Maria while placing a protective hand on Grace’s shoulder, he said, “You ran my wife off the road?”
Sawyer, who’d overheard the last part as he came to join them, lobbed an accusatory stare in the other woman’s direction.
“I didn’t run anyone off the road.”
“Yes, you did, and I have witnesses. But at the speed you were going, I was probably just a blur, and you didn’t notice me.” Or maybe she thought it was a good way to get Grace out of the picture once and for all.
“I was going pretty fast,” the woman admitted with a nervous glance at Jack, “so I guess it’s possible, but I honestly didn’t see you.”
Grace snorted inwardly, because she’d never snort out loud.
Maria continued, “I’m sorry if I ran you off the road. I hope you weren’t hurt.” Grace had to admit, she appeared to be genuinely sorry.
“Not badly, no.”
Rubbing his thumb over her collarbone, Jack angled his head. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. But I…” She glanced from Maria to Sawyer. “I really need to talk to you.”
He turned Grace to face him and lifted his hand, smoothing back the hair plastered to her cheek. “I know why you did what you did. Sawyer told me everything,” he said, his voice low and gentle.
Maybe not as low as she thought, because Sawyer gave Grace a conspiratorial wink, and Maria’s eyes narrowed. Grace sent Sawyer a grateful smile before saying to Jack, “You’re not mad at me anymore?”
“No.” He kissed her forehead. “Not at you.”
Maria moved closer, extending her hand. “We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Maria DeMarco.”
Like I don’t know who you are, lady. Grace snorted. Oops. She cleared her throat and took the woman’s hand. “I have allergies.” The corner of Jack’s mouth quirked. “Grace Flaherty.”
“I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot. I’m sure you understand, given the circumstances, that I was just trying to protect Jack.” Maria smiled up at him then returned her attention to Grace, giving her an expectant look.
Did she actually expect her to apologize? Yeah right. “Of course I do. Jack’s the type of guy who brings out every woman’s protective instincts. Goodness knows, a six-foot-three man carrying two hundred and ten pounds of lethal muscle needs all the protection he can get.”
Jack’s brows shot up. The sweet smile Grace gave him faltered when she caught Maria eyeing all those muscles before she twisted her gorgeous face in a hurt expression.
“Grace, I think…” Jack began, looking uncomfortable.
She frowned. He can’t be serious? The woman sabotaged her at the press conference and ran her off the road.
“Don’t get angry with your wife on my account,” Maria intervened, rubbing his arm.
Grace fought back the urge to rip the woman’s red talons from her husband’s bicep. Instead, she searched Jack’s face. What was Maria talking about? He wasn’t angry. Embarrassed, maybe—which was ridiculous, he had no reason to be, not on her account.
She returned her attention to Maria, who continued speaking. “I totally understand where Grace is coming from. I just hope that you won’t let our petty differences interfere with Jack working on the book, Grace. He doesn’t deserve to lose out on a fabulous opportunity because you feel threatened.”
Petty… threatened… Grace fumed, then focused on the important part. “What book are you talking about?” she asked at the same time Jack said, “Maria, I told you I wanted to talk to Grace before I gave you my answer.”
“Maria asked me to consult on her book.”
Sawyer, who’d remained quiet up until then, must’ve noticed the shocked expression on Grace’s face, because he said, “Maria’s offered Jack a lot of money to consult on the book. I think he should do it.”
It wasn’t a secret that they could use the money. But she’d bet her last dollar Maria DeMarco wanted more from Jack than help with her book. Honestly, Jack and Sawyer were clueless if they couldn’t see through the woman. Then again, most men acted like idiots around a beautiful woman. And Maria DeMarco was beautiful.
Grace wasn’t about to let the woman think she’d pulled the wool over her eyes. She’d have to be some kind of masochist to let her husband work with Maria. No, it was time to nip this in the bud. “I’m not sure what petty differences you’re referring to, but Jack has a lot on his plate right now. He’s very busy doing volunteer work for Gage, and I’m busy with the bakery. Taking on a project like this would interfere with our family time. And money isn’t an issue. The bakery’s doing very well.”
“I’m sorry, are you saying Jack can’t work on the book with me?”
“The timing isn’t right, that’s all.” Too late, Grace caught the telltale tic in Jack’s clenched jaw, and the subtle warning shake of Sawyer’s head.
Sawyer took Maria’s arm. “I think we should let Jack and Grace talk about this.”
“Sure, I guess. I hope you can convince your wife to let you work on the book, Jack. It’d be a shame if our story didn’t get told.” Maria got in one last jab before allowing Sawyer to walk her to her car.
You idiot, Grace thought. You walked right into that. Now Jack really was angry at her. Couldn’t he see that the woman was simply using the book as a way to spend time with him? “Why wouldn’t the story get told, Maria?” Grace called after her. “You’re a journalist. Surely you’re able to write—”
Jack cut Grace off with a curt “That’s enough.”
“But it’s true, Jack. Don’t you see what… You can’t seriously be thinking of working with her on this?”
“Yeah, I am. Sawyer’s right. She’s offered me a lot of money. I want to contribute to our family, too.”
“You are. You still get paid, and the bakery’s doing better every day.” There was more she wanted to say, but hesitated. Speaking her mind had only gotten her into trouble in the past. Then again, Jack blamed Grace’s unwillingness to share her feelings for some of their problems. She decided now was as good a time as any to start sharing. “I don’t want you to work with her on the book.” There, she’d said it. She felt better for telling him the truth, until she saw the hard set of his square jaw.
“It’s not your decision to make. It’s mine. There are two people in this relationship, Grace. You don’t get to call all the shots.”
“But you—” she began before being interrupted by Fred, who hollered at Jack and Sawyer from the front porch, “You two get in here or you’ll be working till midnight.”
“I gotta go. We’ll talk about this later. I’ll be over as soon as I finish up here. Probably around eight.”
“Okay, I’ll see you then. But, Jack,” she said as he started up the path, “I won’t change my mind.”
He stopped midstride, turning to face her, his gaze roaming her face. “Then we have a problem.”
“I guess we do,” she said quietly and walked away.
Grace reached the sidewalk as Maria sped off in a cloud of dust. “Don’t draw a line in the sand. He needs to do this,” Sawyer said, coming to stand beside her.
She shoved the helmet on her head. “No, he doesn’t. You didn’t see her today. She’s in love with him. She’s using the book as an excuse to get close to him.”
“Don’t confuse love with hero worship. Jack protected her over there. It’s because of him they got out alive. He’s in love with you, not her.” Sawyer adjusted the strap under her chin, struggling, she could tell, not to laugh.
She got on the bike. “Talk to him, Sawyer. For me. Make him understand why I can’t back down on this. For goodness’ sake, the woman destroyed my reputation this morning, and then she tried to run me over.”
“Grace, she didn’t—”
“Try, please.”
“Okay, but I’m not making any promises. And I want you to think about it, too. Think about it from Jack’s perspective.”
* * *
Drenched in sweat and frustration as she pedaled toward the bakery, Grace spotted the delivery van. She didn’t think she’d been gone that long. Although, considering the amount of time she’d spent on the ride back trying to come up with a rational, unemotional argument against Jack working with Maria, it was possible she had been.
She propped Desiree’s bike against the wall and walked into the bakery. As she noted the empty tables, an anxious knot tightened in her chest. It was just as well, she decided. She’d take the rest of the day off. It would give her the opportunity to set the stage for a romantic dinner. She’d make Roberto’s lasagna and her chocolate caramel cupcakes for Jack. Surely he’d be more receptive to her argument then. Now that she had the beginnings of a plan, she felt somewhat more hopeful until she saw the fretful expression on Desiree’s face.
“What’s wrong? Did the van break down?”
“Um, no. Five minutes after you left, three of the customers called in to cancel their orders. I got in touch with Skye before she made the trip for nothing.”
“Why did they cancel?”
“Word’s gotten out about the press conference and…” Desiree gave a pained grimace. “They all said they won’t do business with a woman who lied to them.”
A loud buzzing sound reverberated in Grace’s head. She felt faint. Her legs were boneless, and she leaned against the counter for support. Then she realized the buzzing was from the phone. It was off the hook, and she went to replace it.
Desiree grabbed her hand. “No, don’t.”
“Why?” Grace asked, even though she had a feeling she didn’t want to hear the answer.
“The three customers who canceled, they’re not the only ones who are upset. Seems like the whole town is worked up about you lying about your sugar plum wish and, you know, asking Jack for a divorce…” Desiree’s head bobbed back and forth. “… kicking him out of his house…”
“I think I get the picture. I’m sure it’ll blow over in a couple of days.” It had to. She’d be unable to pay her bills if it continued much longer. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to take—” She stopped at the look on Desiree’s face. “There can’t be more.”
“You know the two sugar plum cakes that you made for the Pines tasting tomorrow morning?”
“Yes,” she said warily. The resort wanted to sample the cakes before signing on the dotted line.
“They’re destroyed. I didn’t notice until I had to go in the cooler to get Mrs. Tate’s order. I think Stu must’ve done it. I’m so sorry, Grace, if I would’ve known—”
Grace sagged against the counter and bowed her head. Swallowing past the hard lump in her throat, she said, “It’s not your fault.”
It was Maria DeMarco’s. In less than two days, she’d destroyed Grace’s reputation, put her business at risk, and did a number on Grace’s marriage and confidence. And today, she’d almost killed her. So if Jack thought Grace was going to change her mind about him working with the woman, he had another thing coming.
Grace glanced at the clock; it was two. She’d be lucky to finish the cakes by eight. Maybe she could push Jack off by an hour. Pulling out her phone to text him, she winced. She’d forgotten about her injured hands. They were going to slow her down. Her fingers froze over the keys. What was she supposed to tell Jack? He’d made it clear how he felt about her long hours. In his eyes, this would be one more strike against the bakery, another nail in its coffin. But the contract with the Pines was too important for Grace to jeopardize, especially now.
She squinched her eyes closed, took a deep breath, and tapped out the text. Jack, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come over tonight. I don’t want to fight with you, and we will. I need more time. We’ll talk tomorrow. As soon as she sent the text, she turned off her phone.
Skye rushed into the bakery with an earthenware bowl in her hands. “Don’t you worry, Grace. I’ve got it covered.” She lit a match, putting the tip to the end of a small stick. Sage-scented smoke filled the bakery as she walked around the tables. “I’m going to get rid of all the negative energy for you.”