Page 41 of The Corner of Heartbreak and Forever
“Now we’re talking!” Marilynn said with a smile. “I could use a grandbaby or two.”
“Stop!” Grace said.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m taking your mama out for a trail ride.” Cade reached for Marilynn’s hand. “She won’t be able to marry you off this afternoon.”
“Reed, why don’t you ask your aunt and uncle to join us for the barbecue next Friday evening,” Marilynn suggested.
Reed glanced at Grace. “Barbecue?”
“Oh, shoot! I was supposed to tell you about it,” Grace said. “I got a little sidetracked with—” She glanced at his shirtless body. “All the work we’re doing.”
He chuckled.
“Work? Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Marilynn teased.
“Mom! Dad, take her away.Please.”
As Cade led Marilynn toward the barn, her mother said, “Please ask Roy and Ella if they’d like to come next Friday evening. We’re celebrating the completion of the porch, and Sable moving out.”
“I’m sure Sable will be happy to know you’re celebrating her leaving,” Grace teased.
Her mom spun around as if to say something, and Cade hauled her against him, silencing her with a kiss.
“I really like your parents,” Reed said as he gathered Grace in his arms.
“Yeah, they’re pretty cool, aren’t they?” She pushed her fingers into the waist of his jeans. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“Me too,” she said in a voice as smooth and intoxicating as a shot of whiskey. She began walking backward toward the doors that led to her bedroom, tugging him with her by her grip on his jeans.
“Grace, what about your parents?”
“We figured out years ago that ‘trail ride’ was code for Mom and Dad needing make-out time.” She yanked open the door and pulled him into her bedroom. After closingand lockingthe porch door, she drew the curtains, and then she shut and locked the door to the hall. With a fierce, sexy look in her eyes, she worked his belt buckle and button free and said, “This isyourlucky day,” as she unzipped his jeans. “I happen to be famished, but not for lunch.”
“My lucky day was the morning you walked out of this bedroom in those slinky little pajamas and back into my life.”
“We’ll see if you still feel that way in ten minutes.”
He held her close, speaking directly in her ear, and said, “Every day we’re together is luckier than the last.”
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Grace went to see Brindle at her drama club rehearsal. What was it about elementary schools that made her want to either stand up straight or run down the hallway? She’d never run down the hallway as a kid and couldn’t imagine why that even popped into her head as she made her way toward the all-purpose room. While half of her siblings’ rebellions were wild and crazy, short of lying about seeing Reed when she was in high school, Grace’s rebellious acts had been few and far between. She’d once faked being sick and had gone to the nurse’s office. They’d called her mother, who had come to pick her up early from school. On the way to the car, Grace broke down in tears and told her mother she wasn’t really sick. She’d then marched herself directly into the principal’s office, despite her mother trying to convince her that taking half a mental health day wasn’t such a bad idea. Grace had pleaded her guilt to the stunned principal and assigned herself detention. That was the first and last elementary school prank she’d ever pulled.
As she entered the all-purpose room, the children’s voices brought memories of her drama-club days. She’d sat in this same room beside Sophie, reading lines for plays and giggling with their friends. This was where her enjoyment of theater first began, fed by the support of teachers and classmates. She leaned against the wall, observing Brindle sitting in a circle with the children and what looked like a few high-school-aged helpers, as the kids recited their lines. She rarely got to see Brindle teach and took a moment to watch her. Brindle’s blond hair cascaded over the shoulders of her pretty sheer blouse, which she wore over a simple white camisole. Even sitting cross-legged in jeans and sandals, like the kids, Brindle looked elegant, professional, and nothing like the girl who just a few hours ago had been racing around their parents’ yard.
Brindle listened carefully, offering suggestions when the children missed a line and complimenting each one as they finished. It was interesting seeing her flirtatious, risk-loving sister acting so serious, interjecting information about what the kids can expect when they went onstage.
One of the children glanced at Grace. Brindle’s gaze followed, and a smile lifted her lips.
“Kids, this is my sister Grace. She’s going to help me make the play a little shorter,” Brindle said, and all the kids cheered.
“Thank you!” shouted a towheaded boy.
“Not too much shorter,” pleaded an adorable girl with braids.
“Nat, can you please take over?” Brindle asked one of the teenagers.
“Sure,” Nat said. She was a studious-looking brunette with dark-framed glasses and stick-straight posture, and she reminded Grace of herself at that age.
