A DAY AND a half later, Grace sat in her family room, alone. Her parents and Spencer were at work, and Maggie had insisted on attending two classes that afternoon, despite still not feeling quite well, which meant Grace was blissfully on her own. She still had a few body aches and a nasty nasal infection, but she’d managed to brush her teeth and take a shower, which made her feel much more human.

Her phone buzzed, indicating a Skype call from Charlotte.

“Hey there!”

“Hi,” Charlotte said. “How are you feeling? Your mom said you were hella sick when I called yesterday.”

“Better,” Grace said. “Probably better than I look.”

Charlotte laughed. “Whatever. You look just fine, which is why I hate you. Good lord, you can puke your guts out for two days and look like a model.”

“Oh, I’m sure. I did shower, though, so that probably helps.”

“Usually. So, fill me in on Max. I’ve got a little time.”

Grace sighed. “I love him...like, stupid love him.”

Charlotte giggled. “Well, duh. I’ve known that for a while now. What I want to know is why you’re waffling.”

Grace let out a groan. “Because I’m a woman.”

“Try again.” Charlotte smiled. “Look, you send me these cryptic texts, which is fine, I speak “Grace-ese,” but you have these extreme love him or hate him moments, so let’s delve into that, shall we?”

Grace giggled. “Okay, doctor Whitmore, let’s delve into that.”

“So what’s bugging you the most?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just feel like people don’t change like that overnight, you know?”

“Do you want him to change?”

“No, not really. I want him to change how he treats other people, but he’s wonderful to me.”

“Well, that’s good, right? I mean, he can still work on treating other people well...”

“Yes.” Grace smiled. “Sometimes I feel so happy I’m about to burst, and then other times, I realize I know nothing about the guy and should be wary, because his reputation bites. I mean, how do I know he hasn’t done this with a million other girls?”

Charlotte giggled. “Dating is so freakin’ complicated. I wish you could just meet the person you’re going to be with forever and never question it.”

“Ohmigod, right?”

Charlotte giggled. “You’re taking on your sister’s vocab.”

Grace sighed. “I know. It’s becoming a problem.”

The doorbell rang and Grace wrinkled her nose.

“Do you have to go?” Charlotte asked.

“No, it’s probably just a delivery.” Grace cocked her head. “What are you wearing, by the way? Is that a wig?”

Charlotte leaned away from the camera so Grace could get a better view. “I’m keeping the Cinderella wig on in case I have to go back out there. What do you think?”

“I can honestly say, I have never seen Cinderella in jeans and a T-shirt.”

Charlotte nodded. “I know. It’s a new style I’m trying out.”

The doorbell pealed again and Grace rolled her eyes.

“Hey, I should go,” Charlotte said. “And it sounds like you should too. I’ll call you later in the week, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

“Love ya, Gary.”

Grace giggled. “Love you too, Chuck. ’Bye.”

Grace hung up just as the doorbell rang again. She ignored it and sipped her peppermint tea while flipping through channels on the television. Whoever they were they could leave the delivery on the porch.

Unfortunately for her, whoever was at the door wasn’t going away. They rang twice more before she forced herself off the sofa. Pulling the door open, she was met with sunflowers. A lot of them.

“Delivery,” the gruff voice said from behind the plumage.

“Oh, um, okay,” she said. “What do I owe you?”

“A kiss.”

“Excuse me?” she asked in irritation.

The flowers moved and Max stood behind them with a goofy grin. “Hello, sweetheart.”

“Hi!” Grace gasped and then frowned. “Wait. What are you doing here? Why didn’t you give me any warning? I would have done something with myself.”

She glanced just beyond him to see Bruce tip his hat. She gave him a wave.

“May I come in?” Max asked.

“Oh, right. Yes, sorry, come in.”

He stepped inside and set the vase on the foyer table, then wrapped his arms around her. “You look perfect. You’re gorgeous.”

“I’m a mess,” she argued. “I should change out of this robe and sweats. I’m all stuffy and gross.”

“I happen to think you look adorable with a red Rudolph nose.”

She wrinkled said red Rudolph nose and stroked his cheek. “How do you manage to look like you’ve just walked off the pages of a GQ magazine every time I see you?”

He shrugged. “Do I?”

Grace nodded. “Yes, and it’s extremely annoying.”

Max chuckled and leaned down to kiss her. She broke the kiss with a sigh and laid her cheek on his chest. “I have missed you so much.”

He stroked her back. “Not as much as I’ve missed you.”

“Are you okay?” She stared up at him. “How did everything go after the funeral?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it. I just want to hug you for a bit.”

Grace sighed. “Okay. I can handle that.”

As she stood in the foyer and let Max hold her, Grace realized that her body aches were gone and her nose seemed perfectly fine. She smiled up at him. “Why is it that when I’m feeling a little out of sorts, you make everything magically better?”

He grinned. “Because that’s my job.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. I’m here to serve you.”

“Nice.” Grace giggled. “I’ll remind you of that when you go all diva on me.”

He kissed her again. “Where do you want the flowers?”

“I’ll take them upstairs later. I don’t want to share them.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “I just made tea, do you want some?”

“No thanks, love.”

She smiled. “Come on. I want to hear about everything.”

“Where’s your family?”

“Blissfully, somewhere else,” Grace said, as she led him back to the family room.

“Strange question,” Max said. “What’s your heater set at?”

“Colder than a penguin’s asshole,” she retorted.

Max laughed. “I’m sorry?”

“My dad insists the temperature be kept at sixty-five even when it’s cold outside,” she said. “His philosophy is that we can always put more clothes on.”

“He has a point.”

Grace sat on the sofa and tucked her feet under her. “So? How did everything go?”

“It was fine.” Max sat beside her, turning to face her.

“Just fine?”

Max nodded. “Just fine.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“Yes.”

Grace cupped his chin. “At some point, you’re going to have to trust me, or this relationship will never work.”

“It’s not about trust, love. I told you that.”

“Of course it is,” she countered. “You keep saying twenty-five is the magic age I need to reach before you tell me, but I don’t see myself suddenly becoming a different person in the next few days.”

“You’re killing me, Grace,” he said.

“Honey, I’m not going anywhere. You can trust me.”

He closed his eyes for a second. “You know that drives me crazy.”

“What does?”

Max grasped her hand. “When you call me ‘honey.’”

“Tell me...” Grace smiled. “...honey.”

“My brother, Kinnon, the one we just buried, has had a drug problem for a long time. We believe he may have had something to do with the death of our sister—”

“You had a sister?” she interrupted.

“Aye. She was”—he shook his head—“ah, she died a while ago. I’d rather not get into that. Suffice it to say, she’s gone, and now Kinnon’s gone as well. He was a screwed-up bastard, who should have died a long time ago. I’ll not mourn his passing.”

Grace squeezed his hand. “It’s okay to mourn him, you know. He was your brother.”

“Not by choice,” he argued. “Stupid bampot who’d do anything to get high. Good bloody riddance.”

She frowned. “I’m sorry.”

He kissed her palm. “No, love. I am. I don’t really want to talk about Kinnon. I’d hoped to find out what you’re doing on Friday.”

“Well, since it’s my birthday, my family always does a big dinner, as I mentioned. Do you want to come?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation.

“My dad will be back tomorrow...are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Grace smiled. “You don’t need to check your schedule?”

“My schedule’s whatever you want it to be.”

Grace laughed. “You’re easy.”

He leaned forward. “You have no idea.”

He kissed her and pulled her into his lap. She slid her fingers into his hair and deepened the kiss, wishing she was in her apartment and not her parents’ home. But then again, maybe it was a good thing...

She broke the kiss and leaned her forehead against his. “You are lethal.”

Max grinned and kissed her again, this time, quickly. “Friday doesn’t come fast enough.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What is the significance of my birthday? I don’t get it.”

“I have something planned. I don’t mean to tease you, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

The front door slamming had Grace scrambling off Max’s lap and situating herself on the opposite corner of the couch.

“Grace?”

“In here, Mom,” she called, narrowing her eyes at Max, whose expression was one of mischief. “Don’t you dare do anything naughty.”

Max gave her a cheeky grin.

Her mother walked into the room, her arms laden with grocery bags. “Hello, Max, I thought I saw your driver outside.”

“Good afternoon,” Max said, and rushed to assist her.

“Thank you,” Lila said, and set her purse and keys on the desk. “This is a surprise. We weren’t expecting you for a few days.”

He smiled his death-by-charm smile and nodded. “Our plans didn’t quite take as long as we expected. I was able to return early.”

“How nice,” Lila said, and put a few fridge items away.

Grace rolled her eyes and Max gave her a look of innocence, mouthing, “What?”

Grace started to help unload the groceries, but her mother shook her head. “Honey, you need to rest. I’ll put everything away.”

“I feel great, Mom,” Grace said. “I’m happy to help.”

Lila faced the couple again. “Will you stay for dinner, Max?”

“I’d love to, if it’s no trouble.”

Lila smiled. “Not for me.”

“Grace?” he asked.

“Excuse us, Mom,” Grace said, and pulled Max from the kitchen. Once inside the front room, she closed the French doors for privacy. “You’re really okay with sitting at a dining room table with my sister fawning all over you and my brother asking you inane questions like...well, no never mind. I don’t really want to go there.”

Max chuckled. “I enjoy your family, Grace. They love you, which means they have impeccable taste. Would you rather I not join you?”

“It’s not that. I guess I just want you all to myself for a few hours.” She pointed to her slippered feet. “And maybe take a moment to look a little less like Old Mother Hubbard.”

“I still have to check into my hotel, so why don’t I do that and come back?”

She nodded. “Where are you staying?”

“Just up the street. At the hotel off the freeway.”

Grace gasped. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Why?”

She wrinkled her nose. “That’s just so...I don’t know, low-brow for you.”

Max chuckled. “There’s not much to choose from in Vancouver, sweetheart.”

“That’s not entirely true. There’s the brand-new hotel downtown, and there are so many others to choose from in Portland. Why aren’t you staying at the Governor again?”

He wrapped his arms around her waist. “Because it’s not close enough to you.”

“You’re slumming it for me?” she asked, as she linked her hands behind his neck.

“Slumming it might be a bit harsh. I understand the hotel’s quite lovely.”

“Hmm-mm,” she countered. “When have you ever paid less than a thousand dollars a night for a hotel room?”

“Not for a very long time,” he admitted. “But Kenna booked me a suite, and the hotel has some very nice reviews.”

Grace giggled. “Oh, how I love—” She cut off her sentence and pressed her lips into a thin line.

“I’m sorry, Grace,” he challenged. “What was that?”

“Ah...Oh, how I love that you’re so close,” she modified.

He grinned. “So. Dinner?”

“Dinner,” she repeated. “What will Bruce do?”

“You don’t need to worry about Bruce, sweetheart.”

“Would it be weird to invite him to join us?” she asked. “Unless you have anyone else with you. I’d hate him to be alone in a strange place.”

“Yes, it would be weird to invite him,” Max said.

“Why?”

“Because he works for me. He would find it extremely uncomfortable.”

“He would or you would?” she challenged.

“We both would.”

“Can I still invite him?”

“You can do whatever you like.”

Grace frowned. “That’s not what I mean.”

Max pulled out his phone and scrolled his finger over the screen before putting it up to his ear. “The Wilson’s would like to invite you to dinner. Aye. Yes, really. Aye. No. Aye.” Max raised an eyebrow. “What time?”

“Um, six probably.”

“Six,” Max said into the phone. He smiled. “Aye. Yes, exactly. Okay.” He hung up. “Bruce will join us.”

Grace laughed. “Alrighty then. Good.”

“We’ll go get checked in then and return at six. Does that sound good?”

She shook her head. “That’s hours from now.”

Max grinned. “Two hours.”

“Exactly. Hours.”

“I’m happy to stay, love. Bruce can take care of everything.”

She sighed. “No, it’s fine. I would like to look less like a tired old hag.”

Max laughed. “So dramatic, sweetheart. Especially when you’re the most beautiful woman on the planet.”

“You’re sweet,” she said, and kissed him.

“I’m honest.” He stroked her cheek. “I’ll just say good-bye to yer mum, and then head to the hotel, eh?”

“One more kiss?”

He chuckled and obliged.

* * *

Max and Bruce arrived at five-fifty-five. Bruce wore the same suit Grace was certain he owned several versions of, but Max had changed into jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. His clothing hugged all the right parts of his body and made Grace wish for her family to disappear.

“Hi,” Max said, and kissed Grace once she’d closed the door.

“Hi.” Grace grinned. “And, hello to you as well, Bruce.”

He smiled and gave her a nod. “Ma’am.”

“Everyone’s in the kitchen. Come on back,” Grace said.

“You’re on the news, Grace!” Maggie called as they approached the kitchen.

“Pause that, Maggie,” their mother directed. “We have guests to greet.”

Maggie paused the television and hugged Max, his presence now fully accepted. Spencer shook his hand, as did their mother.

“This is Bruce,” Grace said, and the group greeted the security man as though he were a long-lost friend and not one of Max’s staff.

“Beer good with everyone?” Spencer asked.

The men nodded, but Grace shook her head. “I’ll have wine with dinner, but thanks.”

“Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes,” Lila said. “Please make yourselves at home.”

Bruce sat in one of the overstuffed chairs, while Max pulled Grace down next to him on the sofa, slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her close.

“Okay, ready?” Maggie asked.

Grace rolled her eyes. “Go ahead.”

She wasn’t quite prepared for what came on the screen.

“Who is this Grace Wilson Max MacMillan has spent the last few months searching for? Well, folks, here she is.”

The photos of Grace and Max driving into the hotel in Alaska floated across the screen, switching to some video someone had taken. More photos popped up of them in the airport, kissing good-bye.

“We understand that Grace is a graduate of Washington State University, and part of the all-girl acapella group, Basic White Pitches. They won nationals three-years ago, and she has apparently been known to sing at a couple of the local churches on occasion. Which begs the question, ‘has good girl Grace Wilson tamed the likes of bad-boy Maximilian MacMillan, or is she just his new plaything?’ Over to you, Christine.”

“Turn it off, Maggie,” Max said.

“No,” Grace countered. “I want to hear this now.”

Max frowned, but didn’t object.

“Thanks, Deb,” Christine Beach said. “As many of you are aware, I had the great privilege of interviewing Fallen Crown just a couple of weeks ago, when they were here for their first-ever Portland show. Here’s a recap.”

The part of the interview where Max spoke Grace’s name was replayed and then the camera focused back on Christine.

“It would appear Max has found the elusive Grace Wilson, and according to a close friend of hers, plans are in the works for Grace to move to Scotland.”

Grace gasped. “What? Who would have said that? I haven’t talked about Max to anyone. Maggie? Did you say something?”

She shook her head. “No, nothing.”

Grace stared at her brother, who shrugged. “I haven’t said anything either, Grace. I guess Aisha could have, but I highly doubt she would have.”

A photo of Grace flashed on the screen, and she frowned. “That’s from two years ago. I think at Aisha’s birthday.”

Grace glanced at her sister and they both ground out, “Laurel.”

“So, Aisha’s been talking to Laurel,” Maggie snapped.

“I’m on it,” Spencer said, and pulled his phone from his jeans, heading out of the kitchen.

“Ooh, she’s such a bi—”

“Margaret Marie,” her mother snapped.

Maggie bit her lip. “Sorry, Mom, but she is.”

“Excuse me,” Bruce said, and also left the room.

“Kenna will handle the media,” Max said, and Grace deduced that Bruce was calling her to do just that.

Lila switched off the television and smiled. “Well, enough of that drama, huh? How about we eat?”

“Great idea,” Grace said, and rose to her feet.

Spencer and Bruce returned and the group sat down for a blissfully uneventful meal.