“You okay, sweetie?” Colette waited for her in Adrien’s living room, looking concerned.
“Fine.” Gracie crossed to the hall door and put her hand on the knob. “While you’re still here, I’m going to run down to my place to check on dinner and see where Brett’s got to.”
“Brett’s with Ian. He just texted me. They took a walk along the lakeshore, which probably means getting ice cream in the park downtown. They won’t be back for a while. Come sit with me.”
“I...okay.” Gracie sat next to Colette on the sofa. She had an inkling what subject Colette intended to bring up.
“We’ve been friends since high school. Don’t tell me this,” she gestured to Adrien’s bedroom door, “doesn’t bother you.”
She leaned against the back of Adrien’s over-sized couch, closing her eyes for a moment. It smelled faintly of his cologne. “It was awful when I saw who it was in the ambulance.” She admitted it because Colette was one of her closest friends. “But he’s going to be fine, so everything will go back to normal soon.”
“What’s ‘normal’ between you and Adrien?” Colette’s voice was pleasant, almost neutral, but Gracie felt like she was being examined.
“I don’t know,” Gracie whispered the truth, squeezing her eyes more tightly closed.
“Lexy and I have watched you two for years, hoping someday you’d find a way to be together.”
Gracie lifted her head and met Colette’s blue eyes, ones that were so much like her brother’s. She wasn’t sure what her friends wanted was possible. Her background, the way she’d struggled for everything she had, the mistakes she’d made—they put her out of sync with the perfect Petersons. She didn’t fit, regardless of how she felt about Adrien. They could be friends, but how could she ever be part of the family?
“I think we can date Adrien’s attraction to you back to when he was sixteen,” Colette continued. “And for you?”
“Ditto.” She blew out a sigh. “We were friends, then one day I suddenly saw him differently. Isn’t that weird?”
“So now since you have the opportunity to be together, why aren’t you?”
“I’m content with my life,” Gracie said slowly. “I have Brett, a job I love, good friends.”
Colette reached for her hand. “And I love having you for my friend, but I think you have the opportunity to be a whole lot more than content. I know I’m biased since Adrien’s my brother, but he has a lot to offer the right woman.”
“That’s just it.” Gracie dropped Colette’s hand and jumped to her feet. “What if I’m not the right woman? What if I’m not what he thinks I am?”
Colette smiled, wide and knowing. “He’s in love with you, not blind.”
“In love with me?” Gracie whispered, emotions rushing through her as she sank down onto the coffee table. Was it obvious to everyone?
“Yes. That can’t surprise you, considering your history with him.”
Gracie nodded reluctantly. “But that doesn’t mean a relationship will work. We’re from different backgrounds and...”
“Wait. But you do care for him?” As usual, Colette was pulling out the Peterson logic.
But she was wasting her time. When it came to Adrien, Gracie didn’t do the reasonable thing. “Yes, which is why I don’t want to hurt him.”
“You’re already hurting him by denying what’s between you, and you’ll hurt him and yourself more by fighting what everyone’s seen as inevitable for years. You’ve got a great opportunity here, don’t throw it away.” Colette sat back, leveling her gaze at Gracie. “And I think you want it too. For instance, why have you never dated anyone since Brett’s birth? I know men have been interested in you. You’re still a great catch.”
“It just never felt right and I had Brett to consider…” Using her son as an excuse was rapidly losing its validity. Adrien would make the ideal father for her little boy, which made keeping him at a distance even more difficult. He wanted more of her, thought more of her, than she had to give. She just wasn’t the right woman for him.
“Uh huh. It couldn’t be because you were waiting for someone?”
“More like comparing, than waiting,” Gracie admitted.
“Anyone else live up to your expectations?”
Gracie shook her head in place of saying it aloud. No other man had ever measured up.
image:break.jpg
Gracie set her alarm clock for every two hours during the night to check on Adrien. Aside from some additional bruising coming to the surface, his condition was improving. In the morning, she got Brett off to school, peeked at the sleeping man who appeared to be comfortable, and curled up on his sofa to close her eyes for a few minutes.
She planned to wake him in a half hour for breakfast, but first she needed some rest. The warm fall sunlight filtered in through the large windows as she tucked an afghan around herself and rested her head on a pillow. A couple minutes of sleep, just a couple.
A sharp rap on the apartment door woke her. She jumped up, rushing to answer the door before the knocking woke Adrien. It was Gabe.
“What are you doing here?” Her brother passed over the pleasantries, his eyes boring into hers.
“Taking care of Adrien. What’d you think?” She glanced at the clock. “Shoot. I was supposed to wake him an hour ago. Hang on.” She opened the bedroom door, leaning in for a moment to watch Adrien breathe. He looked okay. She’d talk to her brother for a minute, then wake him. With a soft click, she closed the door before turning back to their visitor.
“I’ll repeat my question.” Gabe’s voice was gruff and demanding. “Why are you taking care of Peterson?”
“I’m a nurse, and I live down the hall.” Which wasn’t the whole truth, but she wasn’t getting into it with Gabe over Adrien this morning.
“He has family,” Gabe said bluntly.
“He asked me, and his family asked me. I wouldn’t say no. Not after all they’ve done for me.”
“Whatever,” he said with a snarl in his voice. “Seems to me if he needed a nurse, they could hire one for him.”
Gracie smoothed her curly hair and ignored Gabe’s last comment. “Why are you here?”
“I’m following up on the accident report.” He flipped through a little notebook while he spoke. “See if Peterson’s remembered anything more. I’m hoping he got a look at the driver.”
“Any leads?”
“A woman who lives east of town filed a report late last night that her back door was forced open and her truck keys stolen. Her red pickup has hood damage on the passenger side. It’s our vehicle.”
Gracie waited for her brother to continue. “Who was driving the truck?”
“Don’t know. She claims she was away for the weekend with friends. Sounds awfully convenient to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s probably trying to cover up drunk driving by claiming her truck was stolen. Wouldn’t be the first time, though in Miami, crack heads would steal cars and hit people with them until their high wore off or they crashed.”
“Oh…”
“But in this case, the truck was in her barn when I had it towed to the impound lot early this morning. In my experience, people don’t steal vehicles and return them to where they got them. So, I’m hoping Peterson saw the driver. I’d think you’d remember her even if she was about to drive a truck into you.”
“Why?”
“Auburn hair going every which direction, pale skin, freckles, and one hell of an attitude.”
“Sylvia O’Shea.” Gracie gasped out, recognizing his brother’s description.
“You know her.”
“Everyone around here knows her. She has an organic farm and a pack of alpacas.”
“Nut job if I ever saw one,” Gabe declared.
“She’s not nuts. She just doesn’t give a damn what anyone thinks of her.” Gracie shook her head. It was something she could use a little more of, in all honesty. “No, doesn’t fit. If she hit Adrien, she’d have stopped, probably loaded him and the bicycle in the truck and taken him to the hospital.”
“Evidence says otherwise.”
“But if her house was broken into…?” Gracie argued.
“Easy enough to fake that. You mar up the back door jam with a crowbar a bit. Hell, a woman who paints her house purple has no problem defacing a house. I think she’s good for the hit and run. I’ll arrest her later today. Might even go for attempted vehicular homicide.”
“Gabe, no. You’ve got the wrong person. Stop thinking like a city cop. There’s no way—”
“No way what?” Adrien stood in the doorway of his bedroom, braced heavily on the doorframe.
“What are you doing up? Do you feel lightheaded? Can you focus?” Gracie rushed to his side and grabbed his arm. “Come sit down on the couch.”
“I’m tired of sitting. I want to move.”
“Sit.” At the command in her voice, Adrien moved toward a leather arm chair.
“Okay, okay, you’re being bossy again,” he said as he sank into the chair, wincing only slightly before getting his ribs in a comfortable position.
“Until I’m convinced your head injury isn’t causing you any trouble, you’ll do as I say.”
He smiled at her, but it was tight around the edge. “I’m more concerned about the ribs. My head feels pretty good at the moment. What were you talking about?” He looked back and forth between Gracie and Gabe.
“Gabe thinks Sylvia O’Shea ran you down. I told him that’s ridiculous.”
“The evidence and my gut point right to her,” Gabe declared.
“Well, there’s something wrong with your gut then, because there’s no way she’d strike someone and not stop. Plus, she knows Adrien, she’d certainly stop for him.” She went behind the kitchen counter. “Do you want some breakfast, Adrien?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Gabe, you hungry? Lexy took Brett to school for me this morning and dropped off a basket of food. I’ll get some coffee going. Do you have milk, Adrien?”
“Maybe. I usually eat on the run.”
Gracie was already rifling through Adrien’s cabinets looking for coffee and filters. After starting the pot brewing, she leaned her head into the refrigerator—beer, leftover takeout, and some celery from the Precambrian period. It’s a wonder single men survive, she thought.
She shifted her attention back to the men. They were staring at each other across the room. Gabe’s face registered resentment while Adrien looked surprisingly calm for a man with broken ribs and an angry visitor.
“Gabe,” Gracie interrupted the staring contest, “run down to my place and get some butter and milk from the fridge. Then, you can tell Adrien your crazy theory over breakfast.”
“Jesus, when did you get so bossy?” Gabe exclaimed, repeating Adrien’s words.
“When I had to be in charge. Now, go.”
Gabe went out the door, grumbling to himself.
“I don’t think your brother likes me,” Adrien commented from the chair, after a time.
“That’s his problem.” Gracie pulled open cabinets, looking for dishes.
“Plates are over the sink,” Adrien said. “He’s right though. When did you get so tough?”
“Like I said. When I had to.” She got her hand on the knob to the cabinet he indicated, but couldn’t see inside it. “Why do you have to put stuff so high? I can’t reach.”
Adrien heaved himself to standing. “Here I’ll get them.”
“Sit down.” Although her words sent him a warning, he was already coming around the island into the small kitchen space. His face wrinkled in pain when he reached up to get the plates. She took the dishes from him and was turning around when his hand came to rest on her shoulder. After closing her eyes for a second to steel herself, she met his blue gaze. The tremulous sensation that overtook her when Adrien was close swept through her again. She cleared her throat nervously. “Are you okay? Can you get back to the chair?”
“If I say no, does that mean you’ll help me?” He smiled down at her. “Ouch! Smiling hurts this morning. I’d like to lean down and kiss you, but that’s going to hurt, too. This sucks!”
“Serves you right,” she teased, relaxing now. “I already told you no more kisses until after our discussion.”
“Well,” he said, massaging her shoulder, “if I remember correctly, you said I couldn’t ask for one. I wasn’t planning to ask.”
“Is that so?” She couldn’t help but smile at him. God, he could be irresistible. “Remember. I know where your injuries are. I could poke you in the ribs and make you fall to the floor and break something else.”
“Too late. I’ve already fallen hard. A long time ago.” He trailed his fingers along her jaw line. “And I don’t want anything else of ours to break.” The door knob jiggled, and Gracie took a step away from Adrien. She didn’t need to complicate the morning by letting her brother see them so close. He turned toward the door too, leaning on the counter, and huffed when he saw Gabe re-appear.
“You better sit at the table. I’ll get you some coffee. Cup for you, too, Gabe?” She directed the question to him as he re-entered the room, but kept her eyes on Adrien until he was seated at the table.
“Yeah, thanks.” Gabe handed the milk and butter to Gracie before taking the chair opposite Adrien. He didn’t bother to disguise his glare.
Gracie put a basket of muffins on the table between the men and poured coffee for all of them before sitting. “Now, tell Adrien what you told me about Sylvia.”
Gabe munched on muffins while explaining his theory about the faked break in and stolen truck. “I suppose you don’t believe it either?”
“Afraid not. Sylvia’s not the type to leave an accident scene.”
“Maybe she panicked. You know, the sight of blood or something,” Gabe suggested.
Adrien and Gracie exchanged a look before Gracie spoke. “No, Sylvia is the last person in the world to run from a little blood. She raises animals. Not much bothers her. I think you should investigate the theory that someone stole her truck.”
“How do you know her so well?”
“She sells produce at the farmer’s market downtown and supplies some items for Lexy’s café.” Gracie added some milk to her bowl of cereal. “Can’t you confirm her alibi that she was out of town with friends?”
Gabe shook his head. “Friends are unreliable. They might lie to protect her.”
“Maybe someone else saw her,” Adrien said, popping his third muffin into his mouth. “Where was she? Did she stay at a hotel? Someone else might be able to vouch for her.”
“Crazy woman refused to tell me. Her words were something like ‘none of your damn business’. When people say that, they’re usually guilty.” Gabe took a large gulp of coffee, unrepentant.
They ate in silence for a few minutes with only the gurgle of the fish tanks as background noise. The two men who meant the most to her in the world sat at the same table and had nothing decent to say to each other. How could she consider a relationship with Adrien when Gabe so obviously hated him? How could she tap dance around that problem?
“Do you know where my bike is?” Adrien had finished eating and sipped coffee with his elbows resting on the table.
She suddenly wished she’d asked Gabe about that, but she’d been much more concerned about the man than the machine.
“What’s left of it is in the impound lot.” Gabe didn’t look up from his plate.
“Will I get it back?”
“When it’s no longer evidence. You won’t be riding for a while with those ribs anyway.”
“A week or so.”
“Peterson,” Gabe’s tone was condescending, “I’ve had busted ribs. Takes more than a week.”
“When did that happen?” Gracie asked.
“I haven’t exactly been working in Mayberry for the past eight years, Gracie. Things happened. I opted not to tell you. You had enough to deal with.” The glare he’d been giving Adrien changed to a look of pure disgust.
“You’re full of secrets lately,” Gracie accused. “First, you don’t tell me about seeing mom, now this. What’s the matter with you?”
“Your mother?” Adrien pounced immediately. Damn, she never should have brought her mother up in front of Adrien. “I didn’t think you ever heard from her.”
“I don’t.” Gracie shifted in her chair, but didn’t look at Adrien.
“None of your business, Peterson,” Gabe said in a sharp tone. “Family stuff. Stay out.”
A fist thumped on the apartment door. “Adrien Peterson, you in there?” The voice was female, but deep and husky.
“Coming,” Adrien called.
“I’ll get it.” Gracie jumped from her chair before Adrien could finish rising. When she opened the door, a red-headed woman and an Australian Shepherd rushed into the room. “Sylvia, I didn’t expect—”
“Peterson, there’s a rumor out there that I ran you down. I had to call your sister to find out where you lived so I could check on you myself.” The woman moved briskly across the room with the dog at her side. “Some asshole cop is trying to accuse me of hit and run.”
Gabe stood to face her. “That would be this asshole cop.”
The dog, who had been sitting at Sylvia’s feet, jumped up, yipping loudly at Gabe.
“So it is.” She scanned the table, dropping her hand on the dog’s head to quiet him. “Having a nice breakfast before you arrest me?” she asked, sarcastically.
“Lady, I could have arrested you earlier this morning for refusing to cooperate with an investigation.”
“Sorry if I don’t like watching my vehicle get towed.” Sylvia spoke with only inches between her and Gabe. She was nearly as tall as he and had no problem getting in his face. “I need my truck to do my work. You’re infringing on my rights.”
“The truck’s evidence. You’ll get it back eventually.”
“You’re not from around here are you,” Sylvia accused him with a glare. “Eventually isn’t good enough. How am I supposed to run my farm without a truck?” For the first time in the conversation, Sylvia noticed Gracie. “You’re his sister.” It was half accusation and half declaration.
Sylvia focused on Gracie, who was once against struck by the delicate beauty of the woman’s face. Her fair skin with the slightest dusting of freckles paled against green eyes. With her long willowy figure, she looked more like she belonged on a Paris runway than a farm.
“Sorry, Sylvia.” Gracie unconsciously rested her hand on Adrien’s shoulder.
“I didn’t mean to cause you trouble. I like you and that little boy of yours too much.” She swung around to where Adrien sat, completely ignoring Gabe now. “Peterson, how are you doing?”
“I’m fine.”
“Glad to see you’re up and moving. Someone,” she nodded her head toward Gabe, “would have me believe you were half-dead.” She leaned toward Adrien. “I think you and your family know me well enough to know that if I hit you, I would have stopped.”
“That’s what I was telling Deputy Sinclair.”
“I don’t give a damn what Peterson and his family think of you,” Gabe interrupted. “If you don’t give me an alibi, lady, you’re still my most likely suspect.”
“Where I was this weekend is none of your business.” She was back to being face to face with Gabe, the dog anxiously at her side, his yips turning to snarls.
“It will be when I arrest you.”
“I’d like to see you try.” Sylvia’s hand on the dog’s head prevented the snarling animal from launching at Gabe.
Gabe reached for his belt, his hand hovering between his gun and his cuffs. Gracie desperately shook her head at him and he stopped. “I’m going to gather more evidence, then I’ll be out to arrest you. Don’t leave town.”
“Wasn’t planning to run. I’ve got nothing to hide and I’ve got crops to harvest. Without my truck apparently.” She gave Gabe a calculated smile before turning to Adrien. “Peterson, if you need anything, give me a call. See you around, Gracie.” Sylvia exited as quickly as she entered the room.
Gabe was a combination of speechless and shell-shocked. He stared open-mouthed at the door for a moment. “Guess I’ll be going, too.”
When the door clicked behind him, Adrien let out a low whistle. “Did you just see what I saw?”
“Yeah, interesting. I’ve never seen a woman get in Gabe’s face like that. He was genuinely surprised.”
“He was more than that.”
“What do you mean?”
Adrien grinned. “Nothing, but don’t be surprised if your brother spends a lot of time on her farm.”
“No way. Gabe and Sylvia? They’re night and day.” If it was an attraction, it was a fiery one.
“We’ll see.”
“Hmm. I don’t know about that.” Gracie picked up the breakfast plates from the table, refusing to meet his eyes. Their fledgling relationship disqualified her from understanding anyone else’s. “I do know that you need to go rest.”
“I’m going to get a shower first unless…you’d like to give me a sponge bath.”
“No.” She dropped the dishes into the sink with a sharp crack. “But I’ll stay here until you’re done.”