A Risk Worth Taking (6 page)

She’d invited Abby and Chris to her home to select wedding pictures. After a formal dinner, complete with crystal and china, they’d been seated in a great-room that felt more like it belonged in a British TV drama than a home in the northern suburbs of Atlanta.

Abby eyed the black and white shot, and then her daughter-in-law who looked a little hurt at her mother’s remarks. “Well, I like it,” she countered. “It looks like something out of Hollywood’s heyday.” Then she turned to draw Jackson and Chris into the conversation. “What do you guys think?”

“Whatever makes you ladies happy is fine with me,” Jackson responded, barely turning his attention from the laptop mirroring the one the women were using. He and Chris had hung in there for the first fifty or so pictures before Jackson pulled out his machine and the two guys got busy working on their fantasy football teams much to Katherine’s displeasure.

But, it looked like the bride was fine without her new husband’s input. She blew Jackson a kiss across the table and chuckled. “Good answer, good answer,” she sing-songed while clapping.

Then she touched Abby’s hand. “Here’s something you missed,” she said, pointing to a photo of the bouquet toss.

Abby hadn’t exactly missed the melee of single girls grappling for the prize. Her mind replayed the pool-side scene that led up to her very wet reason for staying in the shadows.

Katie bumped shoulders with Abby. “Doesn’t matter,” she said, her eyes snapping with mischief. “You’ll get a guy, even without the good luck charm.”

Abby covered her cough with a laugh. “Just because you’re happy does not mean the whole world should be paired up.”

“Yep, I do.” Then she added, “You too, Chris. We need to find you a man as well.”

“From your lips to cupid’s ears,” he answered, looking up from the laptop.

Katherine stiffened. “Let’s see another, darling.”

With the click of the mouse, the oversized screen was filled with a face Abby had been trying to forget. “This is one of my favorites. Don’t you think that’s a good one of Grant and you dancing?” Katie asked, her voice full of affection.

Abby allowed herself to linger on his features for a second before she looked away. She didn’t need to see a photo to remember that straight shot of jaw punctuated by the deepest cleft she’d ever seen or blue eyes so piercing she knew he’d seen to her soul. “It’s very nice,” she responded, her voice coming out thin and reedy. Abby held her breath hoping she’d been the only one to notice the quiver in her voice.

Thank God, Katie was in bridal nirvana and oblivious to Abby’s reaction. “Well, I think you ought to have a copy in your album.”

Abby took a deep breath and prayed her voice would come out calmer. “I have enough pictures with me in them. Besides, I’ve reached the outer edges of my budget.”

The last thing she wanted to pay money for was a reminder of what had happened to her common sense. Now
she
was the one wanting to steer the conversation to another subject. “So, Katherine, how have you been keeping yourself busy now that the big event is over?”

From her perch on the opposite side of her daughter, she gestured grandly as the group’s attention diverted to her. “I’ve been planning a trip to…”

The door leading to the kitchen opened, stopping Katherine mid-answer.

And freezing Abby in her seat.

“I heard there was a party going on over here,” Grant said, using those long legs of his to cross the huge room in a couple strides. As he bent to give his mother and sister each a peck on the cheek, his gaze stayed locked on Abby’s.

Then he walked around the coffee table, and sat next to her on the large sofa. The warm scent of his aftershave filled her head, turning her insides all gooey.

Well, that blew that theory out of the water. Over the past three weeks she’d convinced herself the attraction was due to the romantic vibes saturating the island air.

“Are you hungry?” Katherine cooed. “There’s plenty filet mignon left.”

Grant stretched his arm over the back of the sofa, further invading Abby’s personal space. “I’ve eaten, Mother, but thanks. I just dropped by for a moment on the way home.”

“Then let me get you some dessert,” she answered.

As Katherine scooted to the kitchen, Grant leaned in. “Push anyone into the pool lately?” His breath tickled her ear, sending a tendril of heat licking down her spine.

“No,” she choked out, checking the room to see who might have heard. When she saw the others were absorbed in their respective laptops, she shot back a snark of her own. “Scare anyone with your safety briefing?”

“You’re the only one,” he answered, flashing a grin. Then his hand brushed across her hair, sending her pulse into triple digits.

“I was just going to tell Abby about my trip to Aspen,” Katherine enthused, breezing into the room.

Abby jolted as the timely interruption snatched her from thoughts of how good his hands would feel on her. “Please do,” she responded, putting some space between Grant and her. “It sounds wonderful.”

Katherine launched into a detailed description of her trip Abby barely heard. From the corner of her eye, she watched as Grant brought forkfuls of cake to his mouth.
Lucky cake.

When Katherine finished outlining her itinerary, he laid the plate on the coffee table, wiping his mouth with the linen napkin. “So, what’s been keeping you busy?” he asked, turning those ocean-blue eyes on Abby.

Her gaze slipped from his eyes back to his full lips.
Trying to forget our kiss.
She ducked her head to keep from putting voice to her thoughts. “Nothing special,” she answered, shrugging. “Just the usual, grading papers, laundry.”

Katie picked that moment to join in the conversation. “I’ve been trying to convince her that she needs to start dating.”

Grant arched an eyebrow. “Really,” he answered. “And what did she say?” he asked, sparing a glance for Katie before returning his penetrating gaze on Abby.

“I told her I wasn’t interested,” Abby stated, as much for her own benefit as everyone else’s. Even if he was only a few years younger than her, getting involved with Jackson’s brother-in-law was a recipe for disaster. She could just imagine the problems a badly ending relationship would cause for the two families.

The corner of his mouth quirked, revealing a dimple. “So, why aren’t you interested?”

She hadn’t planned to tell Jackson and Katie her news tonight, but she was desperate to sidetrack this conversation. As well as help keep her mind off of broad shoulders and blue eyes that kept shoving logic to the corner of her mind. She drew in a steading breath. “Because, I’m going to be busy doing something else.”

Abby looked toward Chis, who shot her a thumbs up. After years of playing it safe, she was finally ready to step out of her comfort zone. Her new adventure was a risk she could handle. “I’ve been selected to participate in a teacher exchange program. At the end of this school year I’ll be switching places with a teacher in England.”

Grant’s brows furrowed. “For how long?” His words were far more growling demand than polite inquiry.

“A year,” she stammered, caught off guard by his reaction. “The woman’s name is Laura Griffin. She and her two little girls will be living at my house while I stay in her flat.”

Katie practically bounced in her seat. “A real trading places,” she enthused.

Abby checked in on the two men in her life. As she saw Jackson’s smile matched Chris’s, some of the tension eased from her. These three were the opinions that counted.

“True,” she answered, thinking of the projects at home and in her classroom she wanted to do before she left. “So, I have about a million things to do between now and then.” She turned to Jackson. “One of those will be to makeover your old bedroom for her girls.”

Katherine interjected. “That’s a lot of work. Are you sure you want to do that?”

“I am and want to get started right away.”

Before the wedding, she’d offered Katie and Jackson the antique bedroom suite from his room at home. “Katie and Jackson are coming by Saturday with a moving van.”

“I’m free Saturday if you need help moving,” Grant offered.

Jackson answered, “Thanks, that’d be great,” before Abby could decline.

Grant stood. “I’ll see you Saturday then,” he said, training his response on Abby.

As her cheeks heated under his stare, she mentally added another benefit to a year abroad. No pretending she wasn’t attracted to him. All she had to do was keep it together for one, maybe two more encounters with Mr. Sex-On-Legs. She could do that. Surely.

Chapter 7

As Grant pulled into Abby’s driveway, his cell phone went off. “Hey, little sister.”

His lips twitched, listening to her explanation for why she and Jackson were running late. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell her y’all will be here in an hour.” Grant ended the call as he stepped out of the truck. “Thank you very much, baby sister,” he murmured to himself. Her tardiness was just the thing he needed to get some alone time with Katie’s very sexy mother-in-law.

He surveyed Abby’s homestead, first checking out the brick patio, neatly trimmed shrubs and straw covered flowerbeds. Then he noted the tiny one-car garage and ancient car sleeping inside. The car’s green paint looked faded and he could see from ten yards away that the chrome bumper was rusted. A protective instinct twisted his gut at the thoughts of that POS leaving her stranded somewhere.

Grant filed that worry away for later action and moved toward her front door. As he brushed past azaleas, he tilted his head up for a weather check. The thin layer of clouds looked like they might break up. Maybe this would be one move where he didn’t get soaked.

He mounted the stairs and took the seconds between rapping on the door and her answering to enjoy the view from Abby’s deep front porch. The Arts and Crafts bungalow was a little slice of middle class, right down to the white picket fence. Then she opened the door and all home and hearth thoughts flew right out of his head.

“Good morning,” she told him, smiling politely and stepping back so he could enter.

Once he could drag his eyes away from lips that begged to be tasted, he noticed she’d piled those honey-colored curls of hers into a loose twist and the only color on her face was natural. He eased passed her, wondering how much more she’d blush if he kissed her.
No, stick to the plan.

Despite his imagination’s insistence it needed a refresher, the best way to turn her “no” into an “oh my God, Grant, please” was to a subtle approach, not an ambush. He just hadn’t counted on seduction under a deadline. Less than five months. He didn’t let himself think about what he’d do when she left for her new job. One problem at a time.

After she closed the door, he announced. “Katie and Jackson are running late. They forgot to set their alarm.” He used air-quotes to emphasize
forgot
.

Her lips twitched. “That’s new one. Last time it was a last minute errand,” she chuckled, as she lost the battle to keep a straight face.

“Newlyweds,” he answered.

“We were just finishing up breakfast,” she told him as they passed through her dining room. “Would you like some?”

“Coffee would be good if you’ve got it,” he answered distractedly.
What’s this we business?

Grant stepped into her kitchen to find the non-boyfriend sitting so comfortably anyone would think he lived there. There were plates, coffee cups, and papers scattered over the tabletop. A real cozy scene Grant had walked into. How fan-fucking-tastic.

Chris stood to shake Grant’s hand. “Good to see you again,” he enthused. “How’s the airplane business?”

“It’s good,” Grant answered, trying like hell not to show his frustration at having his plans screwed.

“Chris and I were just going over the blueprints for the house in Charleston he’s remodeling.” Abby cleared the dishes off the table then set them in the sink. When she returned to the table, she spent the next several minutes telling him about the antebellum mansion and her friend’s brilliant ideas.

The tension eased from Grant’s shoulders listening to her dulcet voice, even if he was hearing Chris’s plans for restoring the house’s eight fireplaces. When the conversation lagged, he searched for a way to keep her going. Seeing her tidy black and white kitchen with its soapstone counters and checkerboard tile, he asked, “When was your house built?”

“1928,” she answered, then winked at her friend. “Although I haven’t lived here that long.” When Chris offered her a dramatic eye roll, she giggled like she was sixteen. “I know bad joke,” she admitted between chuckles.

Sweet baby Jesus,
he loved a woman with a sense of humor, even when the smiles and giggles weren’t trained on him. “God, I could listen to you laugh all day,” he said out loud before he could catch himself.

She met his gaze for the briefest second, her whiskey-colored eyes blazing into him. Then she bolted from her seat. “Would you like some breakfast? I made blueberry muffins.”

What he wanted was to get her away from her human shield. “How about a tour? After hearing about your remodeling projects on our plane trip home, I’m interested in seeing your handiwork.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Umm… Sure. The bedrooms and baths are this way.” She took a couple steps toward the dining room then looked over her shoulder at Chris. “Holler if you decide you want me to scramble you some eggs or if you want my input on the kitchen design.”

Chris looked up from his coffee, his eyes narrowed. “I’m good. Take your time.”

Grant sent the guy mental thanks and followed her lead through her dining room and up a narrow hall. He’d have followed her over a cliff as long as he could watch the gentle swing of her hips as she moved.

She paused to let him see an example of a 1930s bathroom before moving up the hall. “Here’s my room.”

It looked like something from a movie set starring Bette Davis. She even had one of those mirrored dressing tables he’d seen in black and white movies. “Chris surprised me for my birthday a couple years ago and had a decorator do it over.” She ran her hand over the pale blue comforter. “It’s a little fancy for me. I always feel like I should be wearing satin instead of flannel in here.”