Chapter 15

“Seriously, Mom.” Grace tapped her fingers on her desk. The catch of the day had already been assessed and sent on its way with the delivery crew. She’d run the numbers, twice, and now she was on the last to-do of the workday. “I’m busy. I don’t have time to talk about Mrs. Smith’s imperfections.”

“You’re my daughter. I have stretch marks to prove it. That means you owe me.”

“About that.” Grace stopped tapping. “I went to see Mr. Tomlin last night.”

“Grace Bree Donner.”

“Uh-oh. You don’t use my middle name unless you’re serious.”

“I am serious. I told you to give up that notion of buying back that boat. Don’t tell me you’re still doing that tournament next weekend, too.”

“Of course I am,” Grace said, jaw tightening.

“Right. Because you always do the opposite of what I ask.”

“Not true and not fair. I’m doing this because you asked me to.”

“I asked you to fix things for me, which I never should’ve done. That was wrong of me. It’s not your problem to fix.”

“I want the world to know that you’ve changed, Mom. You’re kind and generous, funny, giving.”

“No, that’s you,” her mother said.

“It’s you, too.” Grace swallowed back her sudden emotion. She hadn’t realized just how much shining a new light on her mother meant to her. “Hey, I have work to do, but how about you come over to dinner at my place tonight?”

“What? You want your mom over after a long day at work?”

“Yes, I do. I miss you. I’ll make your favorite,” she said, trying to bribe her. “I can have my friend Joey come by and bring you over.” And she’d pay Joey for his time. It benefited both of them.

“Well, okay,” her mom said. “But only if you’ll let me complain about Mrs. Smith’s annoying habits tonight. All of them.”

Grace laughed. “Sure, Mom.”

The door to the office opened and Jack walked in.

“Got to go. Love you.”

“You, too.”

Grace replaced the phone on the receiver and smoothed her hair self-consciously—even though the way Jack was looking at her told her there was nothing to be self-conscious about. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He crossed the room. “Are we, uh, alone?” he asked, voice dipping.

She nodded and smiled. “For the time being.”

“Good.” He bent and kissed her mouth, lingering there for a long moment that sent her toes curling inside her shoes. “I missed you last night,” he said, pulling away.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I was thinking.”

“Be careful,” she said, smoothing her hands over his expansive chest, unable to help herself. “Thinking can get you in trouble.”

“Right. But I think you’ll like these thoughts of mine. My place tonight. I’ll cook you dinner.”

Her lips parted. “I, um…” She’d just made plans with her mother. But Jack thought she’d been with her mother last night instead of with Garrison Tomlin. This was kind of…a perfect predicament. “How about you come to my place and I’ll make you dinner?” she asked, doing exactly what she’d warned him against. She was thinking and it just might get her in trouble. But if Jack sat down with her mom tonight, he’d see she wasn’t the evil ex-stepmother he thought her to be.

Jack stood. “You have a look in your eyes.”

She lowered her gaze guiltily. “You got me. I think it’s extra sexy when the woman cooks for the man.”

As if she’d short-circuited everything inside him—sex apparently did that to men—he smiled. “Is that right? Well, then I’d be happy to come to your place tonight.”

She felt like twirling around in her office chair. The two people she loved the most in the world would be seated at the same dinner table.

Love? No. No, that wasn’t how she felt about Jack.

Was it?

Jack sang along with Marvin Gaye as he drove to Grace’s apartment later that night.

“Let’s get it on. Ahhhh, baby. Let’s get it on.”

He’d been alternating fantasizing about getting his hands on Grace and gettin’ it on all afternoon.

He parked in the back of her complex’s parking lot—just in case Noah paid her another brotherly visit—and climbed the steps. He should’ve brought flowers. Although he wasn’t sure if Grace was the kind of woman to even want flowers. He’d bring some next time and see. He wanted to know every little thing about her.

A shot of adrenaline ran through him as he rang the bell. As soon as the door opened, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Grace’s waist. “Hey, gorgeous,” he whispered in her ear.

“Gorgeous?” She laughed nervously and pulled away a little quickly for his taste. Almost as if someone else was in the room watching them.

Jack looked around, his gaze landing on an older version of Grace. The intruder had long dark hair with some gray threaded through. Her skin was pale and wrinkled versus Grace’s smoother complexion. The woman had brown eyes that were not as large or as full of life.

“Jack, I invited my mother to dinner tonight, too.”

He nodded slowly, processing this change of plans. “I see that.”

“Hello, Jack,” Tammy Donner said, her voice a little shakier than he remembered, but fifteen years had passed since the last time they’d spoken. “I didn’t expect to find you kissing my daughter tonight.”

“I didn’t expect to be kissing her in front of you,” he said, disappointment crushing him.

“Is there something you want to tell me, Grace?” Tammy asked.

Grace sucked in a breath. She wrung her hands nervously and her gaze skittered around restlessly. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but he also wanted to lay into her. What she’d done tonight wasn’t fair. If he was going to have dinner with Tammy Donner, it would be by choice. He hadn’t chosen this. He wouldn’t choose this. At least not tonight.

“I made your favorite,” Grace said, putting on an exaggerated smile. “As promised.”

“This is more than you promised,” he said. “I’m not staying.”

“Jack.” Grace reached for his arm. “Please.” Her eyes pleaded with him. The same eyes as her mother, but different. There was so much love in Grace’s eyes. So much heart, toughened by an unfair world. “I know I should have told you,” she said quietly while her mother still sat on the couch, “but you never would’ve said yes. And I need this. Just dinner, that’s all. Please.”

He focused on the woman in front of him. He never wanted to disappoint her. He had feelings for her, and not the kind that one harbored for a sister. He felt a whole hell of a lot more than sisterly love for Grace. He looked at her mother and back, nodded, and against his better judgment shut the front door behind him.

“Okay,” he said.

“Mom?” Grace said, looking back at her mother. “You’ll stay, too, right?”

“Of course.” Her mother offered a smile to him that he didn’t return. And he couldn’t even be bothered to feel like a jackass about it. He’d be staying for dinner, but it didn’t mean he had to make nice.

“Great.” Grace pressed her hands together in front of her chest, almost in a prayer position. “Okay. First thing’s first. I’m making drinks for you two while I finish cooking. Lucky you, you have an ex-bartender at your beck and call tonight.”

“Make mine nonalcoholic,” Grace’s mother said.

Jack noticed the tremor in Tammy’s hand as she raised it to get Grace’s attention.

“I can’t mix alcohol with my meds.”

“Right.” Grace nodded. “Nonalcoholic for you.” She headed behind the kitchen counter. “Just make yourselves comfortable,” she called to them across the room.

Jack was still standing. He looked between his sitting options, wanting to take the one farthest from Tammy. He chose a stiff chair and sat.

“How long have you been dating my daughter?” Tammy asked after several minutes.

Jack looked up. “A little while.”

Tammy laughed quietly. “You always did give as little information as possible when it came to me. I remember when I first met you. I asked how old you were and instead of telling me, you held up ten fingers.”

Jack nodded, getting away with no words this time.

“They say Parkinson’s will start to affect my memory at some point, but I still remember everything just like it happened yesterday.”

An ache resonated over Jack’s chest, right above where his heart was beating.

“Parents aren’t supposed to have favorites, but there’s no such rule for stepparents. I always liked you best.” Tammy leaned back awkwardly into the couch cushion. Her movements weren’t fluid and graceful the way he remembered they’d been when she’d first come into their lives. She was right. He’d been ten years old, almost eleven. He remembered thinking she’d looked like a queen with her long, flowing hair. Jack hadn’t wanted a new mother, but he’d liked Tammy. He’d wanted her to stay. Maybe not forever, but for a while at least.

Grace appeared back in the room and handed them both a drink. “A Coke for you, Mom. And a rum and Coke for you,” she told Jack.

“I haven’t had one of these in years,” he said.

Grace dipped and kissed his mouth before walking away. “Food’s almost ready. Just a few finishing touches and then we’ll sit.”

Jack stared into his glass, finally taking a sip. The carbonation of the drink stung in a satisfying way.

“I always knew you two would end up together,” Tammy said.

Jack sighed. “No, you didn’t. We were brother and sister.”

“For a little while. But I always suspected Grace and I wouldn’t stay long. I have a way of sabotaging things that make me happy. I’ve always been that way.”

“So I should feel sorry for you? Is that what you want? You sold off my mother’s things one by one because you don’t know how to be happy?”

Tammy wasn’t smiling anymore. Instead her hands shook around her glass.

And he felt like an asshole.

“No,” she said. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I do enough of that for myself.” She shook her head. “Grace needs someone like you. I’m not sure she knows how to be happy, either, but I’ve noticed a difference in her over the last few couple weeks. I’m guessing it’s because of you.”

Jack didn’t say anything. If he did, he might say something else that made him feel like a jerk. There was a lot of anger bubbling at his surface when he was around Tammy Donner. He didn’t want to see her any differently. He wanted to keep harboring these feelings of dislike for her. She deserved his bitterness.

“All right. Dinner is served.” Grace stepped in front of them proudly. “Let’s head to the table.”

Jack stood. The sooner he ate, the sooner this night would be over.

Grace’s stomach was so tense she could barely eat. She’d been holding up the dinner conversation for twenty minutes. All Jack was doing was grunting. And her mother just looked like a guilty dog who’d peed somewhere in the house, head down, eyes large. Along with her tremors, it broke Grace’s heart to see her mom this way.

Maybe this was a mistake.

Jack ate the final bite of his food and laid his fork down. He wiped his mouth hastily and then looked up between Grace and her mother. He wasn’t even attempting to enjoy himself tonight. This was an unyielding, uncaring side of him that Grace hadn’t fully seen before.

“Well, that was good,” he said, scooting back from the table.

Grace frowned. He’d been here less than an hour. “You’re leaving?” she asked.

“Yeah. I have something to do.”

“You didn’t have something to do earlier when you scheduled a date with me,” Grace said, anger rising in her voice.

Jack didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care. “Yeah, well, you didn’t have another guest coming to our date at that point.”

“Are you serious right now? This is my mom. If you were serious about me at all, you’d want to make amends.”

“If you were serious, you wouldn’t be hiding the fact that we’re together from everyone important to you,” Jack shot back.

“My mother is important to me. And tonight I told her about us. I’m really excited about us.”

Jack’s eyes were steely. He looked at her mother and back to her. “I’m nowhere near ready for what you did tonight, Grace. You shouldn’t have done this.”

“This is my fault, you two.” Grace’s mother started to stand on shaky legs. “I’m the one that should leave.”

“No,” both Grace and Jack said.

“I just want to be alone right now, Ms. Donner. You stay, I’ll go.” He headed for the front door.

“Jack,” Grace called after him.

He didn’t stop. When the door had closed behind him, her mother spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

Grace turned to look at her mother. “He didn’t even give you a chance.”

“He did. He actually took that better than I would’ve thought. It’s a start.”

Grace wrapped her arms around her waist, giving herself a much-needed hug. “You think so?” she asked.

“I do. And if it’s important to you, we’ll keep on trying.”

Grace surprised herself by smiling. “It is important to me.”

“You’ve never been one to give up. You’re stubborn, hardheaded.”

“I get it from you.” Grace laughed even though she felt like crying.

“So, chin up. He didn’t hug me tonight, but one day he might.”

Grace swallowed back the thickening in her throat and lifted her chin just slightly. She’d never expected that Jack would hug her mother. Only that he would tolerate her. “Okay. Want me to take you home?”

“Home? You said I could complain as much as I wanted about Mrs. Smith tonight. Don’t make yourself a liar, sweetheart. It’s unflattering.”

Grace plopped into the chair next to her mother at the table. She lifted the rum and Coke she’d made herself to her mouth. “Okay. I’m listening.”

Grace skipped her morning muffin with Krista the next day. She wasn’t in the mood to explain what had happened at dinner. It’d been a disaster. Although Grace took some comfort in knowing that her mother thought it hadn’t completely gone to hell. Jack would come around eventually. Grace really wanted to believe that.

She showered, dressed, and made her own coffee, grabbing an apple instead. Her hips would thank her for this choice one day. When she got to the office, she worked steadily until noon. It was just her this morning. Without the distraction of one of the brothers ambling in, she finished all the business and was left to twiddle her thumbs.

The office phone rang and Grace jumped. She reached quickly, hoping it was Jack. “Sawyer Seafood Company.”

“Is this the office manager?” someone said on the other line.

“Yes, sir. What can I help you with?”

“I own the Southport restaurants. The deliveries aren’t here yet.”

Grace looked at her watch. It was lunchtime. No fish meant no business. “They’re not there?” she asked, repeating what the man on the phone had already said.

“That’s right. I have enough fish to feed my customers for lunch, but I won’t for dinnertime if my delivery doesn’t arrive soon.”

Grace got the man’s phone number and promised to call him back. Then she set to locating the delivery, hoping that the restaurant’s owner was loyal. Sometimes one mistake cost you. Not everyone was able to forgive and forget.

Grace blinked, realizing she wasn’t just thinking about the Southport restaurant.