Chapter Twenty

You sure you don’t mind dropping me off?” Skye asked as Grace drove Jack’s truck along I-70.

“Of course not. It’s the least I can do,” Grace said, casting a grateful glance at the butterscotch blonde wearing white capri pants and a white T-shirt. “I really appreciated you coming along for moral support.”

“Like you needed it. You were fan-freaking-tastic. And bringing a sugar plum cake was a stroke of genius. Did you see John’s face when he opened the sugar plum?” Skye asked, referring to John Ryan, who’d done the interview with Grace on Good Afternoon Denver.

Grace smiled. “It was the perfect wish, wasn’t it? I wouldn’t have known he’d just gotten engaged if it weren’t for Madison.”

Skye was right: bringing the cake had been an inspired idea. Jack would probably disagree. He hadn’t been pleased when Grace started baking as soon as Skye and Maria left last night. But after enduring three hours in the company of Maria the Magnificent, Grace had needed to relieve her stress and, she supposed, to boast her own self-esteem by doing something she was good at. After listening to how much Jack and Maria had in common, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the other woman was his perfect match. It didn’t help that Grace and Jack weren’t in the best of places right now. Every time they took a step forward, something knocked them two steps back. Last night had been no exception. Frustrated with Grace’s inability to let Maria’s comments go, Jack had left for Jill’s.

Skye made a face. “I think Nell’s rubbing off on Madison. And speaking of Nell, we better complete our surveillance report on Maria. It’s due tomorrow.”

“We don’t have much to report.” Grace glanced at the other woman. “Did you get the feeling Maria knew what we were up to last night?”

“Yeah. I think Jack did, too. I saw him trying not to laugh a couple of times.” Skye slipped off her sandals and put her feet on the dashboard. “And I have to tell you, your husband’s smokin’ hot on a bad day, but when he smiles, he’s off the charts.” She fanned herself.

“I get that a lot,” Grace said, thinking of Wanda, and waited for Skye to continue in the same vein.

“I bet you do. And I’m sure you had your reasons, but honestly, I don’t think I could’ve kicked him out. It’s like cutting off your nose to spite your face. I’m just glad you guys worked it out, and he’s back home now.”

“Um, he’s not,” she admitted, focusing on the road as it wound its way through the valley, the snowcapped Rocky Mountains looming in the distance.

“But you told John… Okay, gotcha. Smart move. Probably wouldn’t have gone over well with the viewers if you’d told the truth.”

Grace’s fingers tightened convulsively around the steering wheel as she thought about how Jack would react to her lie. She’d wanted to take the words back as soon as they’d popped out of her mouth. But the interview had been going so well up until then that she couldn’t do it. She was desperate to turn the publicity nightmare around, and it felt like she had.

“Don’t stress about it. I’m sure Jack will understand.”

Grace made a noncommittal sound in her throat. She knew better. And when her cell rang, she mentally prepared herself to deal with her ticked-off husband. Skye picked up Grace’s cell phone from where it lay on the console between them. “It’s your mom. I’ll put her on speakerphone,” Skye said at the same time Grace said, “Don’t pick… Hello, Mother.” She’d rather talk to a ticked-off Jack than Helena any day.

“Sorry,” Skye whispered.

Grace forced a smile and mouthed, It’s okay.

“Grace Garrison Flaherty, I have never been more humiliated in my life. I had to hear from Major Talley’s wife about that… that press conference. How could you do that to your father and me? And Jackson! I can’t imagine how humiliated he was. For a hero to be treated like that, and by a general’s daughter…”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Skye staring, openmouthed, at the phone. Her face awash with heat, Grace said, “I was as unhappy about what happened as you are, Mother. But Jack understands why—”

Helena cut her off with a haughty sniff. “I highly doubt it. Your disgraceful behavior has brought shame to both the Garrison and Flaherty names. I expect you to—”

Hands cupped to her mouth, Skye made loud whooshing and crackling sounds, then picked up the phone and pressed End.

Stunned, Grace looked from the phone to Skye. Most of her mother’s calls ended with Grace wishing she’d hung up on her, but she’d never had the nerve.

Skye shrugged. “I’m sorry, but no one deserves to be spoken to like that. I don’t care if she is your mother. She didn’t even ask about the fire.”

“I’m used to it. And I doubt my dad told her.” Grace had talked to her father yesterday morning. With the possibility the fire had been her fault, he wouldn’t breathe a word to Helena. He’d wanted to come to Christmas, but afraid her mother would join him, Grace had convinced him not to.

“You know, you should come zip-lining with me. It’s a great way to relieve stress. And, ah”—she glanced at the top of Grace’s head—“you really need to relieve yours before it makes you sick.”

“I’m not very adventurous, so zipping across a cable a hundred feet above a gorge isn’t my idea of stress relief. If anything, I’d have a heart attack. And why do you keep looking at me like that?” Grace asked, touching the top of her head.

“You have a black cloud hanging over you… literally.”

“Over my head?”

Skye nodded. “I know you’ve been dealing with a lot lately, but for an aura to be as black as yours, it’s more than that. Something happened to you in the past, and whatever it was, you’re hanging on to a lot of guilt and grief. You gotta let it go.” She tilted her head and grinned. “And I know exactly how to do it.”

“How?” Grace asked, unable to keep the hope from her voice. Because Skye was right; that particular cloud had been hanging over her since she was twelve.

“Primal therapy,” Skye said, opening her window and directing Grace to do the same. “It’d be better if we had a convertible. We could have a Thelma-and-Louise moment. But this’ll work.”

“Didn’t they die in the movie?”

“Oh, right, but I love that scene with them driving, wind blowing in their hair, female bonding and all that.” She waved her fingers at Grace’s open window. “Stick your head out and scream all the pain you’ve repressed to the universe, sweetie.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Sure you can.” Skye stuck her head out the passenger-side window, her long, curly hair flapping in the wind as she screamed her lungs out. Pulling her head back in, she said, “Don’t think, just do it.”

Taking a deep breath, Grace did as Skye instructed. The wind swallowed her first attempt, a pitifully weak warble. And then, with Skye’s encouragement, Grace released a scream from deep inside her, a noise so loud and pain-filled it was embarrassing. But it was also one of the most incredibly freeing moments she’d ever experienced. And once she started, Grace couldn’t stop.

Until she heard the siren.

She glanced in her rearview mirror and groaned at the sight of the dark-haired woman behind the patrol car’s wheel. Grace pulled the truck to the side of the road and braced herself. She hadn’t seen Jill since the morning of the press conference.

“Well, that sucks. You were doing so good.”

Grace didn’t have a chance to respond because her sister-in-law stared at her through the open window with a look Grace was becoming familiar with. She’d seen the same have-you-lost-your-fricking-mind expression in her husband’s eyes a lot lately.

“It’s all right, Grace. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m just going to help you out of the van,” her sister-in-law said in a soft, concerned voice as she opened the driver-side door.

Something terrible must have happened. It was the only explanation for Jill’s uncharacteristic behavior. Jill was being sweet, and she was never sweet. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to little Jack… to Jack?”

“No, they’re good. Everything’s good.” Grace tugged down the hem of her pink eyelet sundress as Jill gently helped her from the van. As soon as Grace’s feet touched the pavement, Jill released a choked sob and pulled Grace into her arms. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I love you. You’re going to be okay. We’re going to get you help.”

From behind Grace came a snort and a gasping sound. She looked over her shoulder to see Skye, a hand pressed to her mouth, an arm around her waist, trying to contain her laughter.

Realization dawned at Skye’s reaction. Jill actually thought Grace had lost it. She patted her sister-in-law’s back. “I’m okay, Jill. Honest. And I love you, too. Even though you have to admit you’ve been a… Well, you know.”

Jill drew back, looking from Grace to Skye, who’d broken into loud guffaws of laughter. Jill scowled, her cheeks stained pink, and fisted her hands on her hips. “So if you’re not having a breakdown, what in the hell were you doing?”

She’s back, Grace thought with a sigh. “I—” she started to explain.

“You’re drunk.”

“Of course, I’m not drunk. I’d never drink and drive.” At Jill’s skeptical look, she said, “Okay, if you don’t believe me, watch this.” Grace proceeded to walk a straight line down the side of the road. She wobbled a little in the white high heels, but otherwise she thought she’d proven her point. And to ensure that she did, she stuck out her arms and balanced on one foot, and that’s when she saw the black Harley coming toward them, its driver looking all big and badass.

While Grace looked like a flamingo.

She lowered her leg and arms and turned on her sister-in-law. “I don’t believe you. You called Jack.”

Jill threw up her hands. “What was I supposed to do? I thought you were having a nervous breakdown.”

Jack pulled onto the opposite shoulder and turned off the engine. Kicking the stand into place, he held Grace’s gaze as he took off his helmet and leather jacket. He didn’t look happy. What he did look like was dangerously sexy and hot in a black T-shirt and jeans. He crossed the road, that intent blue gaze of his taking everything in. When he reached them, he gently grasped Grace’s chin between his fingers and searched her eyes. “You okay?”

“Yes, Jill—”

“Sorry I called you, Jack, but she didn’t look okay ten minutes ago,” Jill muttered, her arms crossed. “She looked like she’d lost her fricking mind. She was hanging out the window, screaming her head off, and driving erratically.”

“I wasn’t driving erratically, was I?” she said to Skye, who’d climbed into the driver’s seat.

Brows raised, Jack lowered his hand. “But you were screaming?”

“Well, yes, but I can explain. I—”

“This I gotta hear,” Jill muttered.

“It’s not Grace’s fault,” Skye said. “She’s totally stressed-out, and I recommended she try primal therapy. And it was working.”

“Primal therapy?” Jack and Jill said in unison, giving Skye an odd look.

Considering their reaction, Grace figured it was a good thing Skye hadn’t mentioned the black cloud.

“Yes, it’s a trauma-based psychotherapy. You release repressed pain by screaming it out.”

Okay, Grace had to intervene before they wondered where her repressed pain came from. “Yes, and I found it a very helpful way to relieve my stress. And, as you both know, I’ve had a lot of stress to deal with lately. Like a huge amount.”

A hint of amusement in his eyes, Jack opened his mouth to speak at the same time Jill said, “Yeah, you have. But don’t worry, now that I’m back in town, my first priority is to find out who set fire to the bakery. I’ll—”

Grace hadn’t known Jill was out of town. She guessed, given their strained relationship, it shouldn’t come as a surprise. Still, it made her a little sad. But Jill’s belief that the fire was set on purpose… “You don’t believe it was an accident, either?”

Jill gave her an as-if look. “I lived with you for over a year, remember? I don’t care how upset or exhausted you were, you’d never leave the stove on or anything out of place.”

“Aw, come on, Jill. They don’t need any encouragement. They’re already trying to pin the fire on Maria. I was at the diner today and Holly pulled a strand of Maria’s hair. Last night at the Penalty Box, Brandi and Mrs. Tate stole the glass she’d been drinking from.”

“Really?” Skye said. “Grace, we’ve got to up our game. They’re making us look bad. We have to get some evidence—”

“No, what the both of you are going to do is shut this down right now before it gets out of hand. Grace, I mean it.”

“But, Jack—”

“No buts.”

“Jack’s right,” Jill said. “Leave the investigating to us. You’re going after the wrong person, anyway. You should be looking at Stu.”

“Real helpful, Jill.” Jack interlaced his fingers with Grace’s. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“To get rid of your stress. Maybe then you’ll see how crazy this all is.” He started leading her across the road.

She tugged her hand free. “I’m not acting crazy, and even if I were, I can’t get on the bike with you.” She gestured to her sundress and shoes.

“Yes, you can,” Skye said, leaning over the seat. She reappeared with a white “Animals Have Feelings Too” T-shirt and a pair of denim Daisy Duke shorts in her hand. “And you can borrow my sandals.”

“But those are your zip-lining clothes.”

“It’s too late to go now. And riding on the back of the motorcycle is perfect for primal therapy.”

“Not exactly what I had in mind,” Jack muttered. “Jill, do me a favor and pick up little Jack from the sitter.”

“I canceled the sitter. Madison has him today.”

“I’ll pick him up there,” Jill said cautiously, as if expecting Grace to refuse her offer.

“He’d love that,” Grace said, accepting the clothes from Skye.

“Do me a favor, Jill. Pack up my stuff and bring it over to the apartment with you.” Grace glanced over her shoulder as she climbed into the truck to change her clothes. Jack held her gaze. “I just found out that I’ve been invited back home. Nice interview, princess.”

*     *     *

“I wouldn’t have come if I’d known that was the stress relief you had in mind,” Grace said, her voice hoarse from trying to talk to Jack over the roar of the engine and screaming at the top of her lungs. She swung her leg over the motorcycle to stand on the side of the old mine road.

Jack took off his helmet and grinned. “It’s not.” Lifting the bottom of his T-shirt, he checked out his washboard abs. “The way you were digging your nails in me, I’m surprised there’s no marks.” He dropped his T-shirt, reaching out to unsnap the strap under her chin. “You’re a big baby. I wasn’t even going that fast.”

“You were so.” Not really. An expert driver, he handled the motorcycle like he did everything else. It was the narrow, windy mountain roads and the other not-so-expert drivers that scared her. She brushed her fingers over his abs. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I can kiss your boo-boos better if you want.”

“Oh, I want.” He gave her a slow, breath-stealing kiss before sliding his leather jacket down her arms. “Let’s get up there before we miss the sunset.” He took a blanket, flashlight, and to-go bag from his saddlebag. “Bring my jacket, you might want it later.”

“How long are we going to be up here?”

“As long as it takes to get rid of your stress, princess.” He winked and took her hand. “And since you seem to be really, really stressed, we could be here all night.”

“Probably a better idea than taking those roads in the dark.”

He chuckled. “I forgot what a wimp you are.”

“I am not.”

“Yeah, you are, but I like when you get all girly on me.” He released her hand when they reached the rocky path through the Aspen grove. “Go ahead of me.”

As she started up the steep incline, she asked, “Why do you like when I get girly on you?”

Several moments passed before Jack finally said, “Because it makes me feel like you need me. I like taking care of you. Lately, it’s felt like you haven’t needed me to.”

As she reached the top of the boulder, she turned, about to tell him it wasn’t true, but maybe it was. “I guess without you here, I got used to doing everything for myself. But it doesn’t mean I don’t need you.”

He closed the distance between them, standing below her on the path. He reached up to stroke her cheek. “I probably shouldn’t complain. I knew how strong you were when I married you. It’s one of the reasons that I did. But it would be kind of nice, if every now and then, you let me take care of you.”

“I promise, from now on…” Something slithered across her toes. “Jack,” she shrieked, shaking her foot at the same time she flung herself at him.

He grunted and stumbled backward, grabbing hold of a branch to regain his balance. His arm tightened around her. “Princess, I really appreciate you trying to prove that you need me, but next time, a little warning would be nice.”

“I wasn’t faking, Jack. A snake… There was a snake.” She shuddered, pointing to where she’d been standing.

“Really?” He looked to where she pointed and grinned. “It’s a ground snake. They’re harmless.”

“It didn’t feel harmless when it slid hissing across my toes.” She shivered, unconsciously shaking her foot. “So gross.”

Jack watched her with an amused glint in his eyes. “You want me to carry you or are you okay to walk?”

“I’ll walk behind you.”

“No, you take the lead, that way I can catch you if you slip on the rocks. Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out for snakes. Spiders, too.” He turned her, giving her a light swat on the butt. “And the view’s too good to pass up. You should keep those shorts.”

“Ha. Next time it’s long pants and tennies,” she said as she scrabbled the rest of the way up the steep incline. Several feet ahead, a golden light shimmered through the trees, signaling that they’d reached their destination. Grace stopped and held out her hand. This was their special place, and she wanted them to see it together.

Jack didn’t say anything, just took her hand. But from the emotion in his eyes, she knew sharing this moment meant as much to him as it did to her. They climbed the last rock together. And stood hand in hand at the top of the Alpine meadow with the Indian paintbrush glowing red, and the white columbine glowing pink in the setting sun. As it had always done, the sheer majesty of the view stole her breath and her eyes filled. Far below them the last rays of the fading sun turned the lake to gold and cast the rolling hills and rock in shadows.

Jack let go of her hand and gathered her in his arms. “Have you been here since we came the last time?” he asked, his voice gruff.

She shook her head, her voice muffled against his chest. “No, I couldn’t. I couldn’t come here without you.”

His chin resting on her head, he nodded. “I would’ve felt the same.”

They stayed that way, wrapped in each other’s arms, and watched as inch by inch the orange ball of flame descended behind the snowcapped mountain peaks. The sky above was bathed in a red-gold light.

Jack draped his jacket over her shoulders. “It’ll cool down now,” he said as he led her deeper into the meadow. He handed her the to-go bag and spread the blanket.

Grace sat beside him and pulled the containers from the bag.

Jack grimaced. “Probably cold and soggy now. Thought we’d be eating a lot earlier than this.”

“They look okay,” she said, handing him a chicken quesadilla. “You were bringing dinner for us?”

“Yeah,” he said around a mouthful, then swallowed. “Figured we had some stuff to hash out after your interview.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied. But the interview was going so well, I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“It’s not a lie now. I am moving back in.” He raised a brow, a challenge in his eyes.

“I know.”

“Don’t sound so enthused,” he said dryly.

“I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I’m glad you’re moving back home. It didn’t exactly turn out the way I hoped anyway. The dating thing, I mean. We’re both so busy.” She frowned at her half-eaten quesadilla. “At least I was.”

Nudging her with his shoulder, he said, “You will be again. You rocked the interview.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, unsure how he felt about that.

He offered her some nachos. “No, thank you. Jack,” she said at the same time as he said, “Grace.” He smiled. “I’ll go first since I have a pretty good idea what you’re going to ask.” He brushed his hands on his jeans, then looked at her. “Today was the first time I saw the infamous sugar plum cake. And the first time I listened to you, really listened to you, talk about the bakery. I get it now, Grace. You’re not like Libby. You love what you do. You couldn’t make a cake like that if you didn’t. I’m not going to stand in the way of you doing something that makes you happy. We’ll keep the bakery.”

“Oh, Jack, I—”

“I’m not finished. The twenty-four-seven thing still stands. You gotta hire some help, princess. I don’t want you overworked and stressed-out. You, me, and little Jack, we have to be able to do stuff like this.” He gestured to the meadow.

“Yes, absolutely.” She nodded, then, mentally crossing her fingers, asked, “Does that mean we’re going to live—”

He cut her off with a kiss. “One thing at a time, baby. One thing at a time. Let’s celebrate with dessert, and then I’m going to help you with that screaming therapy of yours.”

The promise in his eyes sent a heated shiver up Grace’s spine, ending any thought of pursuing her line of questioning. He was right. They had a lot to celebrate tonight. They were here, together, and only a few weeks ago she never would’ve believed that was possible. But with Jack, she realized, anything was possible.

He withdrew another container from the bag. “Hailey says you’ll know what to do with this.”

Grace opened the Styrofoam lid, a smile tipping up the corner of her lips at the sight of the plump strawberries and containers of whipped cream and chocolate sauce. She told Jack what Hailey had suggested she’d do with them at the last meeting.

“Great idea, but this has to go”—he tossed the container of cream back in the bag, then reached for the bottom of her T-shirt—“and so does this.” He removed the top slowly, stroking her bared skin as he did. “And these,” he said, nudging her onto her back. Head bent, he unzipped the denim shorts, his clever fingers making her squirm as he took his time stripping them off her. Tossing the shorts on the blanket, he lay down beside her and raised himself on his elbow. Dipping a strawberry in the chocolate sauce, he brought it to her lips.

Grace held his gaze as she licked off the chocolate before biting the strawberry in half. He made a tortured sound in his throat, his heavy-lidded gaze fixated on her mouth. “Tease,” he rasped. His slow, dangerous smile promised payback. She didn’t have long to wait. Kissing the chocolate from her lips, he unhooked her bra. “You’re not the only one in this family who’s an artist, you know. I was real good at finger painting. And don’t worry,” he said, drawing his chocolate-coated finger between her breasts and down her quivering stomach, “I clean up my messes, too.”

*     *     *

“You know,” Jack said, as they packed up to leave beneath a full moon, stars twinkling like diamonds in the clear night sky, “if we weren’t already married, I’d propose to you right now.”

She briefly closed her eyes. He had no idea how much those words meant to her. Overcome with emotion, she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Even with all the craziness?”

“Oh yeah, even with the craziness, baby.”

“I’d say yes a thousand times over, Jack.”

He dipped his head and gave her a long, breath-stealing kiss before draping the blanket around her shoulders. “We better get going. Hop on,” he said, crouching down.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ll—”

“Get on, Grace.” He handed her the flashlight. She decided not to argue. After three sessions of Jack’s version of stress-relieving therapy, Grace’s body was boneless. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to walk. “Keep the light on the path,” he said.

A quarter of the way down, something whooshed past Grace’s head. She let out a girly scream, batting the flashlight at whatever had dive-bombed her. “Jesus, Grace, I can’t see where I’m going.”

“What was that? I didn’t think birds came out at night,” she said, searching the trees while aiming the light at the ground.

“Sure they do,” he said, laughter in his voice.

“You are such a liar,” she said, pulling the blanket over her head. “That was a bat, wasn’t it?”

“All that work I did getting rid of your stress blown by one itty-bitty bat.” He patted her leg. “Don’t worry, princess, I’ll take care of that when we get home.”

Her cell phone pinged before she could respond. She stuck her fingers in the front pocket of her shorts. Unable to reach her phone because of her position, she shifted.

“Stop wiggling around, you’re throwing me off-balance. You can answer it when we get to the road,” he said, then his cell pinged.

“Maybe something happened to little Jack.” Panicked, she raised herself up to dig deeper in her pocket.

“Grace, stay still. If it was something important, Jill would call, not text.”

As soon as they reached the road, Grace scrambled off his back. She whipped her cell phone from her pocket and shone the light on the screen. Jack raised a brow, shook his head, and pulled out his own phone.

Grace read Madison’s text and let out a whoop of joy. “We got it. We got the Pines contract. They saw Good Afternoon Denver and…” She trailed off at the stunned look on Jack’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“The fire investigator’s report came in. It was arson.”