Sexy Six Page 7

  “Jesus Christ, Grace, let the man go! He survived a field of men trying to take his head off. It’d suck for him to suffocate because you’ve squeezed him to death.” A deep voice comes from behind her, and she lets go, almost falling as she lands.

  I recognize Logan Monroe standing in the archway with an undeniable smirk on his face. “Not to mention, you probably ruined his suit.”

  “Oh my God, I’m sorry.”

  She makes an effort to step back, but I circle my arm around her waist, keeping her close. “Don’t apologize.”

  “I’m covered in dust and spackle.”

  My eyes roam over her again and don’t see any evidence of dust or spackle. “You look pretty clean to me. In fact, you look terrific.”

  A blush creeps up her cheeks as she holds my stare. Neither of us moves until a throat clears and I’m forced to once again face her brother. This time, the smirk is gone and replaced with a full on smile.

  “Grace, you want to introduce me to your friend?” He emphasizes the word friend as if it’s an inside joke.

  “Nick, this is my brother, Logan. Logan, you already know this is Nick Bennett.” She waves a finger between us.

  He moves first, coming to me with an outstretched hand. Wisely, he offers the hand that doesn’t require me letting go of Grace’s waist.

  “Nice to meet you,” I tell him.

  “You too. Quite a game yesterday.”

  “Thanks. We were pleased with the outcome.”

  “Think you can pull that shit off this coming Sunday? I’ve got fifty bucks on the line.”

  “LOGAN! That’s rude!” Grace gasps.

  “It’s okay, Grace. I’ll do my best.”

  He nods his approval, and I notice he’s dressed casually as well.

  “What’s happening in here? It looks a lot different. Are you moving?”

  “Today is a reset of the entire gallery. We’ve actually closed down until Wednesday. It’s going to take some massive manpower to get this place ready,” Grace answers on a sigh. “Logan forgot to mention he promised some prime viewing space to a new sculpture artist, and unfortunately, this doesn’t mesh well with my fall display plans. So we have to redo all the walls and add a few shelves to get everything in.”

  “That seems like a lot of work.”

  “Yes, and I didn’t know about it until this morning. Seems it was a bright idea not to tell me with a house full of people last night, so I didn’t kill him.” She shoots a glare his way.

  “It’ll come together. I have faith in your skills. This is what it’s all about,” he tells her sincerely. “You always make it happen.”

  “Well, start getting those pictures in the back corner wall down. I’ll wrap for shipping later.”

  “You now have an extra set of hands. What can I do?” I say with no hesitation. It’s obvious my plans to steal her away for a few hours are not going to happen. But I’m hell bent on spending time with her, even if it means manual labor.

  Both their heads swivel to me in disbelief. “Nick, you’re in a two-thousand-dollar suit,” she points out.

  “My bag is in the car. If I can use your bathroom to change, I’ll be ready to go.”

  “Great! I could use the extra muscle. Grace is a beast when she gets going. There’s a bossiness only a mama could love.”

  “LOGAN!” This time she shouts, and I know immediately that Logan and I are going to get along great. He reminds me so much of my own brothers.

  “No problem. Give me a second, and I’ll be right back.” Without hesitation, I kiss her forehead and head to the car to get my bag.

  The driver jumps out and rushes to the back door, opening it as if we’re ready to leave.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Rodney, sir,” he answers so professionally I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

  Even if I am a celebrity in this town, I prefer normalcy.

  “Rodney, my name is Nick, not sir.”

  His mouth forms a slim line, and I remember he’s probably required to act with a high level of professionalism at all times.

  “Or, if you want, you can call me Six, but we can drop the formalities.”

  His lips tip up in a small grin as he nods. “Got it.”

  “Okay, there’s a slight change of plans. I’m going to be here a lot longer than I originally thought. If you’d like, you can go, and I can call you when I need a ride home. I’d hate for you to sit here bored out of your mind.”

  “Your brother mentioned your plans might be sporadic, so I’m prepared for anything. Just tell me what you need.”

  As if on cue, my stomach growls loudly, reminding me it’s time to eat. I’ve been up since five a.m. with little sustenance, which is a bad idea after a game like yesterday.

  He starts to chuckle and looks at his watch. “Would you like me to grab you some lunch, Six?”

  “Do you mind? There’s a café down the street. If I remember correctly, they have a full lunch menu.”

  “Not a problem. What would you like?”

  “You can bring back an assortment, a little of everything. But make sure you pick up one of their specialty teas. It’s raspberry something. Ask for the owner and tell her it’s for the Monroe Gallery. She’ll know what to make.”

  “Okay.”

  I take out my wallet and hand him a wad of cash. “Get anything you want as well. We’re going to be here a while.” I scoot behind him and get my bag.

  He goes in the direction of the café as I turn back to the gallery. Even with the plastic over the windows, I can see a silhouette of Grace with her hands flying as fast as her head is bobbing. Logan is standing in front of her with his arms crossed, drumming his fingers on one bicep.

  Once again, I recognize this stance. It may be evil of me, but I tamper down my delight that she’s worked up. I like it. Maybe I’d be a little more apprehensive if she didn’t fly into my arms as soon as I stepped toward her, but there was no denying it. She was excited to see me, too.

  Now, it’s time to start the process of getting in her space. Without knowing it, she’s given me the perfect opportunity.

  I walk back in casually, and their conversation comes to a stop. She wheels around, her face red, and Logan gives me an exasperated look.

  “Nick, you really don’t need to stay. This is going to be a dirty job that will most likely end up with me threatening my brother a dozen times before it’s done. I’m sure you have better things to do.”

  “I’m going to get a few measurements from the office and start loosening the bolts in the back wall. Nick, good luck with this one. If she chases you away, promise me you’ll still win my fifty bucks on Sunday.”

  Grace draws in a deep breath then turns, punching him in the arm. He fakes hurt and walks away whistling.

  She hisses and starts shaking her hand back and forth in frustration. “Jerk!” she screams to his back.

  I force myself to hide my smile and go straight to her, taking her hand in mine. Gently, I rub the knuckles and bring them to my lips, kissing each one. Her eyes go soft as she watches me.

  “Sweet Grace, you shouldn’t resort to physical violence with your siblings. It never turns out well,” I tease her.

  “Gah! I should have known you’d be on his side. Boys!”

  I throw my free hand over my heart and toss my head to the ceiling. “Boys? That hurts. I’m pretty sure I left the boy category at about fourteen.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “No, babe, I don’t.” I close in, bringing her hand to my chest. “But if you want me to leave, I will. I thought I could help today and hang out. If I get in the way, kick me out.”

  “I feel guilty asking you to stay.”

  “There’s nowhere I’d rather be. You can direct me, boss me around, and busy me with grunt work. Whatever it takes, as long as I can spend time with you.”

  Now her eyes take on a new kind of heat, the kind that makes me want to slam her against the wall and kiss her until s
he doesn’t know her own name.

  “I’d really like that, Nick,” she finally responds.

  “Okay, point me in the direction of the bathroom. I’ll change then be at your beck and call.”

  She shocks the shit out of me by going up on her toes and brushing a soft kiss across my cheek. “You may regret being at my beck and call, but I’ll take it.”

  Without another word, she twists and pulls me behind her, leading me to the bathroom.

  “Grace, I’m not kidding, if you make me move that picture one more time, I’m walking out the door,” Logan protests loudly.

  “It’s not right, but I think if we put that awful sculpture next to the landscaped marsh, it will look much better.”

  Rodney snorts, turning his back, and I take a sip of my water to conceal my own smile. Watching the two of them for the last few hours has been the best entertainment I’ve had in a long time.

  At first, Grace was very reserved, trying to ease me into the work. But when Logan tore a baseball size hole in the front wall trying to remove a bolt, she lost her shit. That’s when the gloves came off. They started in on each other like only siblings can do, and I sat back to enjoy the show.

  Rodney joined us after returning from the café and offered his help as well. He took off his own suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and together we had all the outgoing paintings neatly piled exactly where Grace instructed. Then we went about spackling and sanding the walls.

  In the last five and a half hours, we accomplished almost everything on Grace’s to-do list until Logan’s hole-in-the-wall debacle.

  He argued he was food deprived until she pointed out the three large sandwiches he ate.

  Then he tried to say it was a faulty bolt until she corrected him about the other forty removed during the day.

  Finally, he relented and walked out, only to return fifteen minutes later with a twelve pack of beer in a cooler and a chilled bottle of wine.

  She forgave easily and started hanging the new shelves. All was right again until now. Tensions are starting to run high again.

  “Hey, man, you want to sit for a few minutes? I’ll take over the placements,” I offer, getting to my feet.

  “Gladly, let’s see if she yells at you.” He goes to the cooler and twists open a beer.

  “Of course I won’t yell at him. He’s being nice, and he’s our guest. Poor Rodney is probably going to quit his job because he’s been forced to spend the day with us crazies!” She wags a finger at her brother.

  “No, Grace, I can promise you this is the most fun I’ve had in a while,” Rodney assures her, coming to us. “Give me the measurements. I’ll finish the shelves.”

  “See, Peach Princess, I’ve always told you I’m fun to be around. It’s you who’s the insane creature of the family.”

  Grace’s head snaps toward Logan, and her eyes narrow. “Rodney probably has a contact high from the paint. That’s the only explanation for thinking this is fun. And don’t call me that.”

  “Peach Princess?” I raise an eyebrow in question.

  “It’s a silly title from home. Logan thinks it’s hilarious to make fun of me.”

  “Hardly, our little Grace is the town Peach Princess. It’s her moniker when we’re at home. No one really calls her Grace.”

  Finally! Here’s a chance for me to ease the conversation to her without seeming too invasive. “I’d like to hear this story.”

  “It’s boring and completely embarrassing,” she tells me.

  “I’ll tell it,” Logan offers.

  “No, you won’t.”

  He ignores her and starts to talk. “In our hometown, the Peach Princess is a very big deal. The title—”

  “Stop!” She throws out her hand in the air at him. “You’ve already messed it up.”

  “So, you tell it then.”

  She looks at the three of us and sighs. “Fine, but y’all get back to work.”

  I go to the wall and remove the picture she wanted down. Rodney and Logan pick up paintbrushes and start to work on the far walls, touching up where the holes were patched.

  She hands me the new picture she wants replaced and instructs me what to do next. Once we’re all busy, she starts talking.

  “It’s really a silly story. Before I was born, my family was convinced I was a boy. Grandma was the only one who disagreed, so for the full pregnancy, she secretly prepped for a girl. My mom went into labor on the first day of the Peach Harvest. There were workers all over our property, and she sent Logan to find my dad. Well, he got sidetracked and forgot his mission. So Mom called down to my grandparents’ house. Grandma took charge and found my dad, grandpa, and eventually Logan.

  “As the story goes, the minute I was born and announced as a girl, Grandma screamed ‘I knew it!’ She held me close and declared I would forever be her Peach Princess. Pretty soon, the name stuck and the entire town called me that.”

  “Well, that and she resembled a peach. She was a fat, round little thing with fuzz all over her head,” Logan adds with a chuckle.

  Grace’s face heats again, but instead of getting irritated, she starts to laugh. “That’s true. Not to mention, after all those months of Grandma stockpiling girl things, I was dressed in pink and peach the entire first year of my life. Grandma had strong faith in her beliefs on my gender.”

  I watch her face for any sign of sadness at the mention of her grandmother. Instead, she beams, keeping her eyes on Logan as something passes between them.

  The last few nights of research on the Monroe family may have given me an insight into their background, but it’s stories like this that will tell me about Grace. I hold in my laugh, thinking about her being known as the Peach Princess to everyone in her hometown.

  Seeing her today in action has shown me a new side to Grace. She may be sweet, but she’s also a ball of fire. I like it. No… I more than like it.

  Sweet Grace may just be my undoing.

  I’m coming for you, Sweet Grace. And this time, you’re not getting away.

  Chapter 7

  Grace

  This is not a date, Grace. Get your head on straight.

  I pin my hair into a bun and check myself one last time in the mirror. Usually, during resets, I don’t put a lot of effort into my appearance, but when Nick announced last night he was picking me up and spending the morning helping me, I decided to change up my choice of outfits. Instead of ripped shorts and a t-shirt, I chose a comfortable romper.

  It’s not quite as casual, but still appropriate for the labor involved in today’s work.

  There’s a knock at the door, and I instantly feel the flapping in my stomach.

  Nick’s here…

  At my apartment…

  To pick me up…

  To spend the morning with me…

  Nick Bennett… The Nick Bennett…

  I swallow down my nerves and go to answer the door, hoping that by the time I get there, I can form a complete sentence without stuttering.

  This doesn’t work because, when I open the door, he’s leaning against the frame with one hand holding a bottle of wine. He’s wearing shorts and a t-shirt, with his hair still damp from his shower. The smell of his cologne drifts in, and suddenly, I’m transported back to the night he picked me up for our first date. The same nerves assault me, sending my butterflies into a tailspin.

  Speaking coherently flies out of my mind, and all I can squeak is a high-pitched, “Hi.”

  His eyes rake up and down my body, leaving a trail of invisible heat on every inch of my skin. When he finally meets my eyes, I’m frozen in place, lost in the deep blue depths of his stare.

  “Hi to you.”

  It takes a few seconds for my brain to kick in, and I finally step back and signal for him to come in.

  He walks past me into my living room and sets the bottle of wine on my coffee table.

  “For your daily consumption,” he explains, remembering what I said when he brought the tea.

  Without
another word, he’s in front of me again. In a flash, I’m in his arms. Instead of our usual hug, he wraps his arms around my waist and drops his forehead to mine.

  “I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re more beautiful each time I see you. Even at six in the morning, fucking gorgeous.” His voice is husky and deep, loaded with intention.

  A ripple of heat rolls through my veins as my skin starts to tingle. The air in the room changes as he leans back a few inches and his eyes pin mine.

  Slowly, never breaking our stare, he moves in until he’s so close I can feel the warmth of his breath. I close my eyes and tilt my head, bracing my hands on his chest.

  He grazes his lips over mine until I part them, allowing his tongue to slip inside. The first taste of him takes my breath away. It’s everything I’ve imagined. That damn cologne takes over, invading my senses, and I sink into him, opening wider.

  One of his arms skims up my back until his hand is cupping the back of my head. He holds me in place as his tongue strokes against mine, me following his lead. I’m pretty sure I stop breathing and take my air from him as he deepens the kiss.

  Silently, I beg him never to stop, soaking in the best first kiss I’ve ever had. He’s gentle yet controlling as his fingertips start to massage my scalp. Our mouths move together, finding a rhythm so perfect I melt.

  I was wrong earlier. This isn’t what I imagined… It’s more.

  So much more.

  Kissing Nick Bennett has my entire body drowning in a way I never thought possible. It’s all-consuming, the kind of experience that can never be forgotten.

  He starts slow, withdrawing his tongue and kissing tenderly along my lips.

  “Two years, six months and seventeen days. That’s how long I’ve thought about this moment,” he whispers against my mouth.

  “Really?” I reply faintly, my knees starting to wobble.

  “Yes, Sweet Grace. I’m almost tempted to kick my own ass for walking away that night without getting a taste of you. I can tell you right now, if I’d had a taste back then, there’s no way you could have disappeared like you did.”

  “Nick…”