Page 83 of Saving Grace

“The Dark Web?”

“You got it.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Grace

It didn’t take long to get our rental car and be on our way to Ida’s Bed and Breakfast. Located in the historic Houston Heights, it was touted as a luxurious inn and romantic getaway. I looked surreptitiously at my husband who was currently navigating his way out of the airport’s rental car parking.

I was surprised how easy our dynamic had evolved. Sometimes I had to let Matt take charge and know he’d take care of me. I’d never depended on a man before. I think my mom, being a single parent, had reinforced the way I did things. I didn’t know if I would have married Matt if I hadn’t had amnesia when I found out I was pregnant. I would have refused and wouldn’t be surprised if Matt would’ve had to hogtie me to get me in front of John to be married. So, in a way, things happened for a reason.

Right then, I was relaxed, trusting Matt to know the directions. It was a treat to watch this man. His jaw was always shadowed by some facial scruff. He’d let his stubble grow into a clean and clipped beard. Dark blond hair curled at his nape, setting off the light tan of his skin that undoubtedly bronzed very well in the summer. His biceps flexed under the short sleeves of his tee as he deftly handled the steering wheel. Matt had this air of confidence that was sexy. He was a man’s man. Even if he probably didn’t know the way to the B&B, I’d trust him to get us there. I didn’t know if it was my pregnancy hormones that triggered this primordial instinct to find the strongest male to claim me. Or maybe, I had fallen in love with him.

For all appearances, ours was a marriage of convenience. Matt married me primarily to give our child his name, but there was no mistaking his determination to make me his wife in every sense. That was one sentiment that was repeated to me by Matt’s friends and relatives. They told me I was his savior, but, in reality, I think he was mine. You could tell a lot about a person by the friends he kept. And so far, the odds were going Matt’s way.

We’d been on the Hardy toll road for a few minutes, and I’d been daydreaming about my husband when a smirk tilted up the side of his mouth. “Gypsy, you’ve got to stop staring at me that way because there’s no roadside where I can ravish you right now.”

I glanced away quickly, looking out the window and feeling the blood rush to my cheeks. “Ravish?” I had to laugh at his choice of words. “Are you a pirate or something?”

“Pirate?” He grinned wickedly when I looked back at him. He let his gaze roam lasciviously down my body before returning his attention to the road. “I like how you think, wench.”

I rolled my eyes at his readiness to play the pillaging pirate, but took a sharp inhale when his hand rested on my thigh. I had worn leggings and a flowing tunic. The weather in Houston was quite balmy compared to Georgia weather.

Yes, I was thinking about the weather to keep my girly bits from reacting because Matt’s fingers were being naughty and they were teasing up and down my thigh.

The bastard was pretending to be all about driving, but the way his lips were twitching only gave away his dastardly scheme. I summoned all my willpower to remain unaffected. I failed miserably. We hadn’t had sex in six days. Cassie and Kate thought it would be a great idea to do an extended bachelorette party, which was kind of unfair since I was the only one who couldn’t drink. Still, I had fun spending time with Cassie and getting to know Kate.

Matt’s twin was the all-American blonde that every horny-teenage boy had a poster of in their bedroom. She was willowy with skinny limbs; however, she was curvy in the right places. Her breasts were the right size for her frame and her ass was a perfect bubble butt. Physical attributes aside though, Kate was like her twin who had a magnetic appeal that couldn’t be put in words.

She just was.

No wonder Colt couldn’t move on from her. His pursuit of Matt’s sister would be interesting to behold seeing that she was stubborn.

Fifteen minutes later, Matt exited the toll road and got on a service road. A couple of turns after, we were on Heights Boulevard. There was a tree-lined grassy mall dividing both directions of traffic. A mix of historical houses as well as more contemporary residences dotted the neighborhood. Several cars were parked on the side of the road with runners and bicyclists going about their morning routine.

“Isn’t check-in time usually at three?” I asked. “Um, we’re six hours too early.”

Matt cast me an indulgent look. “I took care of that, babe. Don’t worry.” He patted my thigh, then held my hand.

With one hand on the steering, he maneuvered our rented Lexus SUV inside the parking lot of our destination. Ida’s Bed and Breakfast was a renovated Queen Anne mansion. A cone-shaped turret covered a pentagonal frame of Palladian windows serving as a focal point for the inn. The royal purple fish-scale roof covering the wraparound porch was the perfect foil for the antique baby blue siding that adorned the inn. Cream accent rails and friezes completed the arresting architecture of the B&B.

“It’s more gorgeous than the pictures,” I breathed.

Matt gave a noncommittal grunt.Men.I guess it was a bit too froufrou for him, but even he should appreciate the detail given to the façade of the house.

A woman who looked to be in her sixties greeted us when we pulled in. She was tall and broad-shouldered and had on a head scarf you see chefs wear. Her physique and facial features reminded me of Julia Child. In fact, the similarity was uncanny.

“Welcome, welcome,” she beamed at us as we got out of the car. “I’m Ida Lowell, the innkeeper.”

Matt and I introduced ourselves. As my husband went to the back of the SUV to retrieve our suitcases, Ida leaned in conspiratorially. “I know what you’re thinking, I look like that chef. Bless her soul.”

I bit my lower lip but couldn’t help the laughter that escaped. “Sorry, was my face that obvious?”

“No need to apologize, I get that all the time, especially since our inn is such a foodie destination.”

She smiled at Matt who once more stood beside us. “It’s good to see a young man taller than I am.”

Matt’s smile was pained and I resisted the urge to laugh again. I think he didn’t like the idea of being referred to as a young man.

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