Give Me Grace
“Grace!” Mac yelled and I jumped, amazed she’d had the patience to hang on the line for this long. I picked up the phone and this time Casey didn’t stop me. He’d obviously said what he needed to say and sat back waiting for the fallout.
“I’m going on a road trip,” I said to Mac, dazed.
“Congratulations. Are you okay?”
“You don’t get it. I can’t even remember the last time I got in a car and left everything behind to lie on a beach.” Granted, it would be awkward—I was bruised and bandaged, but even that couldn’t dampen my rising spirits. “This has to be done right. I need you to pack a bag of beach essentials.”
“I already did. I put it in Coby’s car this morning.”
My eyes flew to Casey. An untraceable phone, my bags already packed and in the car, a cottage by the beach? This wasn’t some spur of the moment getaway. Casey had this planned long before we left the hospital. Wedging the phone between my shoulder and ear, I opened the glove box in front of me. A slate grey handgun sat inside, silent and deadly. He obviously wasn’t taking any chances with my life. My breath hitched and tears climbed my throat.
Casey glanced over. I knew he could see the gratitude written all over my face because he went all hard and fierce. “Whatever it takes to keep you safe, Grace, okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed quietly.
“You all good now?” Mac boomed in my ear.
I closed the compartment and took the phone back in hand. “I don’t know. Is there anything else I need?”
“Booze and snacks.”
“Yes!” I turned back to Casey. “We need to hit the shops.” I was going to eat, all week, and it was going to be awesome.
Casey shook his head, unamused. “We’re not going shopping.”
My lips pursed. “Yes. We are. What else?” I asked Mac.
“Nothing else. I’ve packed some books and movies in your bag, but honestly, if you need those for entertainment then there’s something seriously wrong with you.”
“Wait,” I breathed. “What about Mitsy?”
“Yeah,” Mac agreed quickly. “It’s not a road trip without a dog.”
“No,” Casey snapped.
“We have to turn back,” I told him.
“Hell, to the fucking no,” he snapped again.
“We’re on our way back,” I said into the phone. “Can you pack some things for Mitsy?”
Casey dug in his heels. “I’m not turning around.”
An hour later we were back on the highway. The back window was down and Mitsy’s fluffy white head stuck out the side, tongue working furiously as he lapped at the wind.
I passed him a Dorito from the packet on my lap, slipping it around the left-hand side of the passenger seat. He crunched it furiously before returning to the window. I grinned. While I would never associate the word jubilant with Mitsy, he appeared to be having a good time.
Casey’s jaw ticked each time his gaze returned to the rearview mirror to check on my dog. The chips kept Mitsy occupied so he hadn’t taken to chewing the upholstery. Yet.
My burner phone buzzed. I put down the chip packet and picked it up, reading a message from Coby.
Just received news from Evie that Mitsy is currently en route to the cottage via the backseat of my car. He better be in his dog carrier or heads will roll.
I typed a reply. Of course he is. Relax, dude.
After hitting send, I put the phone back in the centre console. Then I picked up the chip packet and passed Mitsy another Dorito. Casey shook his head. “If Mitsy chews the backseat of Coby’s car, we’re dead,” I announced.
His brows flew to his hairline, incredulous as he looked at me quickly. “We’re dead?”
I shrugged. “You know how when you’re driving and the police pull you over because your passenger isn’t wearing a seat belt? And they fine you because you’re the driver and responsible for all occupants of the vehicle? It’s kinda like that.” While Casey looked a little dazed I added, “And if he asks, Mitsy was in a dog carrier the whole trip.”
“Firstly,” Casey began, nostrils flaring dangerously, “if I ever hear about you being in a car without wearing a seat belt, you will be dead and I’ll be the one doing the killing. Secondly … I agree. If Coby asks, Mitsy didn’t leave the dog carrier, but,” and that but was loud and firm and rang in my ears, “if he chews any part of this car, he’s going home in a pine box.”
I gasped.
“That’s me being humane, Grace,” I was told. “I’ll make sure it’s done quickly. Coby wouldn’t be so nice. He doesn’t like dogs. I do.”
I ignored his threats and ate a chip. Casey glanced at me, lids lowering when I licked the flavouring off my fingers. That proved harder to ignore. I reached for another chip. “You know why I refused to give Mitsy back to Dalton?”
“Why?”
I shifted, trying to get comfortable and failing miserably. “Because Dalton abandoned him and Mitsy got shafted because no one wanted him. I feel bad about that because initially, neither did I. So of course he’s going to be angry at the world. Mitsy had a rough start to life and deserves to get his happily ever after.” I watched Mitsy from my side passenger mirror as I spoke. His head was still out the window, licking the wind with enthusiasm. “He just needs someone to love him. That’s all.”
“Playing eye-spy with you sucks,” I muttered to Casey after our fifth game. Which I lost. After losing the last four before that.
He grinned. “Don’t be a sore loser, Slim.”
“A sore loser?” I huffed. “Using words like automotive navigation system and engine malfunction light is not in the spirit of the game.”
“You said I couldn’t name anything outside the car,” he pointed out.
“I know, but I’m not an aeronautical space engineer. Simple words like steering wheel and dashboard would suffice.”
“You want to play again?”
My nostrils quivered. “No.”
Ten minutes later we pulled into a paved driveway.
Casey got out of the car, but I sat for a moment and stared. When he’d said beach cottage I assumed some kind of rendered beach house within walking distance to the water, but this was right opposite the beach, and it wasn’t some modern monstrosity; it was quaint and pretty and well kept. The outside was white weatherboard with a sweet timber porch and a brightly coloured hammock. The front lawn was thick and lush, and the gardens were a riot of bright shrubs and colourful flowers.
This wasn’t a house, this was a home. A place you could see kids running around the front, bikes overturned, a pile of shoes by the front door, and a hanger by the porch railing that held things like skipping ropes, and a leash for the dog.
Tears blurred my vision when longing hit me hard.
This.
Just … this.
This was what I wanted. A home. A family. Maybe a veggie garden and a cat too. One with long hair that looked like a wild lion.
I opened the car door before Casey reached my side. He took my hand, helping me out. “This place is beautiful.”
“It’s not fancy,” he warned me. Moving to the back of the car, he started getting our bags out.
“I don’t need fancy,” I called out, opening the back door. Mitsy leaped out and immediately cocked his leg on the big tyre. I waited patiently for him to finish.
“Yeah?” Casey walked over and dumped one of the bags on the porch. Holding the other, he dug in his pocket for his keys. I followed him over, Mitsy trotting behind as Casey plucked them out. “What do you need?” he asked when I stepped up onto the porch.
I hooked a finger in his board shorts and tugged him closer. “Just you.”
He grinned and brushed his lips against mine. “Just me, huh?”
“Mmm hmm.” I rubbed a hand over the bulge in his shorts, my pulse accelerating when he started getting hard. Casey dropped the bag in his grip. Then he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me, sweeping his tongue inside my mouth. Need exploded a
s I kissed him back. My hips cradled his and he rocked his erection against me.
The pulsing between my legs reached critical levels and I broke off, anxious to get inside. “Give me the keys.”
He held them up and I snatched them from his hands with a smirk. Turning, I unlocked the front door, over my shoulder saying, “Last one inside has to spend the entire next day naked, waiting on the other hand and foot.”
Mitsy raced under my feet to get inside, tripping me. I spun, trying to catch my balance and Casey grabbed my hips before I toppled over.
“Arrghhh!” I cried out, fire trailing up my bruised body where he caught me.
He cursed and picked me up in the doorway, cradling me against his chest. I could hear the rapid thumping of his heart so I knew the effort cost him. Casey was always so capable he made me forget he was injured. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” I jerked my chin at the floor. “You can put me down.”
“In a second.” Casey turned around and started walking backwards inside the house. It would effectively make him first inside and me the loser. “Let me just carry you inside.”
“No.” I reached out and grabbed hold of the doorframe before he could move. It forced him to shift sideways or risk dropping me on my ass. “This is my stop, right here.”
Thwarted. There was no way Casey could peel my fingers from the doorframe without having to let go of me first. I was impressed he could still hold me as tightly as he was without breaking a sweat.
“It seems we’re at an impasse,” he said.
My brows rose coolly. So help me God I wanted a naked Casey all day waiting on me hand and foot. He was not going to win this. “So it would seem.”
“What’s your plan, Slim? Because my arms are getting tired.”
“They are?”
His lips twitched. “No. I could stand here all day.”
“Fine. I don’t have a plan,” I declared, “but I’ve never had a naked man wait on me hand and foot before.” I let my lids lower lazily, focusing on his mouth and letting my voice go all husky. If my one working hand didn’t have a death grip on the doorframe, I’d have trailed it down my body suggestively. “The things I could do to you …”
“Yeah?” Casey’s lips brushed mine again, slow and teasing. “What things?”
“What things?”
“Mmm hmm,” he answered against my mouth. “I want you to list them out. One by one.”
Did he think I wouldn’t?
Newsflash, buddy, I thought, my eyes narrowing. You are going down in a ball of flames.
“First, I’ll make you watch while I slide my hand down my belly and inside my panties.” My cheeks heated because I’d never touched myself in front of a man in my life. If Casey asked me to though, I would. He had that effect. I lifted my chin, soldiering on. “But I’d keep them on so you couldn’t see what I was doing.” Casey’s breathing got heavier. Buoyed that my plan was working, I kept going. “Then I’d—”
I was cut off by the sound of a man clearing his throat from inside the cottage. My eyes flew towards the sound and my flush almost set me on fire. A man—black suit, white shirt, red tie—was leaning up against the kitchen bench, juggling a set of keys. He looked like a property agent. Slick, handsome, and amused.
My hand fell away from the doorframe and Casey walked me in, setting me carefully on my feet. I didn’t care that it made me first inside the cottage because I wanted to die. I glanced quickly at Casey. He hadn’t been breathing heavy like I thought at all. He’d been laughing. His lips pressed together when he caught my glare.
“Hello,” I managed politely to the man. Then I started for what I prayed really hard was the bedroom and not the pantry. “It’s been a long drive so I’m just going to go to the bedroom now and die. Please excuse me.” Mitsy followed, pausing to growl at the man as we passed by. “Mitsy,” I snapped. “Come.”
“Grace.” My wrist was snagged before I could make my escape. I was turned to face the man so I pasted a smile on my face. “You’re dead,” I hissed quietly at Casey through gritted teeth. “I’m going to smother you in your sleep with a pillow. And I’m going to laugh while I do it.”
His lips twitched as he made the introductions. “This is Wesley Brennan of Brennan Marks Realty. Wes, this is Grace.”
There was an awkward hand shaking movement where he held out his right hand and I had to shake it with my left. He quickly changed hands and took mine in his. “I’m sorry about before,” I told him. “We weren’t— I mean, I wasn’t … I didn’t know anyone was going to be here.”
I felt Casey shaking beside me and I wanted to elbow him. Not one of those lame elbows in the side either, but the kind where it packs a punch and when they double over from the pain, you crack your elbow in their face, thus breaking their nose. They did it all the time in those Jackie Chan movies. It didn’t look that hard.
“I arranged for Wes to meet us here when we arrived,” Casey explained. “He’s heading out of town tomorrow so I wanted to catch up before he left.”
I offered Wes another smile before I hissed quietly at Casey through gritted teeth. “Perhaps you could’ve told me this earlier.”
“I could’ve,” he murmured.
“Sorry for the interruption, Grace,” Wes offered, fighting back a grin. “I was checking some of the fencing along the back line so I came through the side entry, which is why the front door was still locked.”
Deciding to get over it, I offered Wes a drink. God knows I needed one.
He accepted so I left them to talk while I made a beeline for the kitchen. It looked out over the backyard. A large window sat above the sink, offering a beautiful view of more flowering shrubbery and a deep, blue pool. The kitchen and living area boasted a lot of white, but the gleaming timber floors added warmth—as did the accents of colour dotting the interior. The kitchen splashback was a bright tangerine and the beige modular couch was decorated with a navy throw and large, coloured cushions. The overall space wasn’t huge, but high ceilings with exposed beams added an airy feel.
Deciding I’d be happy living here on a permanent basis, I opened the fridge door. Cool air blasted outwards and I let it cool my residual embarrassment while I perused the contents.
Spying a bottle chilled Sauvignon Blanc in the side door, I plucked it out. After finding some glasses from a nearby cupboard, I poured a hefty amount in each. Casey and Wes walked over and I pushed a glass across the kitchen bench in each direction, only catching on to their conversation after I’d returned the bottle to the fridge.
I slammed the door and spun around. “Wait a minute. You’re putting the cottage on the market? This cottage?”
Casey shrugged. “Yeah, why?”
“I’ll buy it,” I blurted out.
Casey took my elbow gently. I was hustled away from Wes and towards the corner of the kitchen. Wes politely wandered into the living room with his wine, pretending to peruse the books on the shelves to give us privacy.
“Grace.”
“What?”
“This property is right opposite the beach.”
“And you’re pointing out the obvious because …”
“Because it’s a million dollar property.”
Did he think I was destitute? That I didn’t have financial investments up the wazoo? Because I did. And this place? This would be an investment in my future. I may not get the kids with the overturned bikes and the husband in the backyard manning the barbecue, but I had Mitsy and my future cat.
“That’s nice,” I replied. “It will free up some capital for you.”
I opened the fridge door again and began pulling out contents at random—olives, cheese, prosciutto, crusty bread—and put it all on the kitchen bench.
“Is that why you want to buy it?” he asked as I searched the cupboards for a platter. Casey walked to the high cupboard by the range hood and took one out. He handed it over and then leaned up against the bench, folding his arms. “We don’t need the capital,
Grace. We’re offloading the property because it’s a sellers market right now. House prices are hitting their peak. Now’s the time to realise a good profit.”
I paused what I was doing and picked up my wine, raising my brows at Casey while I took a sip. My insides quivered with delight at the crisp, cool taste.
“I just think that maybe you’re making a rash decision,” he added.
“Look,” he said when I didn’t reply. He began manoeuvring me out of the kitchen. “Why don’t you go sit down and rest while I finish this and we can talk about it later. You have all week here. Take the time to look around first and see what you think.”
I took another sip of wine, contemplating Casey over the rim of my glass. I was still buying it, but what he said made sense. There was no need to rush it. “Okay.”
He paused, his expression suspicious. “Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay. You’re right. I’ll take the time to look around first.”
Casey scratched at his beard, looking a bit thrown by my easy agreement. I grinned and walked away with my wine towards the living area and Wes.
“Oh, and Grace?” Casey called out. I paused to look at him. “You shouldn’t be drinking alcohol. You’re on heavy duty painkillers. The combination will—”
I cut him off. “Don’t push it, Casey.”
Wes half stood when I made my way over, hesitant about whether I needed assistance sitting down or not. I waved him off and sat, but I couldn’t restrain the hiss when it hurt.
“Are you okay? Casey told me about the accident?”
“I’m a bit bruised, but I’m okay. I’m more upset about Casey’s car to be honest. I don’t think it stood a chance from the moment I arrived in Sydney.”
Wes’s brows rose in question.
“It’s a long story,” I replied and nodded at his glass. “Top up?”
He shrugged. “Sure. I don’t have anywhere I need to be tonight.”
I started to shift off the couch.
“I can get it,” Wes said hastily.