Here With You

  Here With You

  Marianne Rice

  Published by Marianne Rice, 2019.

  HERE WITH YOU

  Editor: Silla Webb

  Cover Artist: Just Write Creations

  Publisher: Star Hill Press

  Copyright © 2019 by Marianne Rice

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  DEDICATION

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY- SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  EPILOGUE

  THE END

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Sign up for Marianne Rice's Mailing List

  About the Author

  DEDICATION

  To my FILWNE girls, Bobbi and Brenda. You two are hilarious, sweet, adorable, and have the BEST Halloween costumes EVER. Hands down. Keep rocking your sister relationship.

  Hugs and laughter.

  M-

  CHAPTER ONE

  IT WAS ONLY HER SECOND trip carrying boxes into her new shop, and she’d already broken a nail. Grace set the box of lingerie on the temporary counter of her new boutique and held out her hand, inspecting her French manicure.

  Thankfully the Sea Salt Spa was next door, and she could slip in for a manicure during her lunch break. Or would she even have one? Opening her business was the first step toward adulting. At thirty-one, her family, especially her older sister Alexis, was relieved to hear Grace would be settling down.

  Finally.

  And who would have thought she’d come back to Crystal Cove, Maine after living in Europe for more than ten years? After high school, she needed to get away or she’d get stuck working and living on her family’s winery for the rest of her life.

  While the vineyard work and wine making was right up her sister’s alley, Grace wanted nothing to do with it. Sipping wine while wearing designer shoes and dating glamorous men was more her style.

  And yet, here she was, schlepping boxes, shopping for paint instead of Louboutins, designing her new boutique instead of her next wardrobe.

  She missed the constant hustle in Paris. The cheese and chocolate. The accents. She missed the elaborate fashion statements. The romantic men.

  She plopped herself down on the burgundy chaise and sighed. Yes, the men were amazing. Her dating life had been a constant flurry of fancy candlelit dinners, concerts in the park, gala openings, charity events, and even quick getaways to Greece or Italy.

  The men knew how to romance her with words of endearment. God love those European men. Even the scandalous ones excited her. Which was the main reason she’d come back home.

  The front door opened, and the cool fall air swept across the room before Mia Parker called out, “Sitting down on the job already? Love what you’ve done with the place.” The piles of boxes sat between plywood and cans of paint, and a splattered drop cloth took up most of the open space by the front window.

  She hobbled across the obstacle course of boxes in her walking cast. Even a hit and run accident couldn’t keep her still.

  Mia was feisty, and Grace had liked her immediately. Grace hadn’t known how the town would treat her, especially the girls she went to high school with, after being gone so long. Times had changed. Her sister, Alexis, had been the social introvert all her life and now had a sexy husband and kid, and a group of girlfriends Grace had squeezed her way into.

  They’d all been accepting. Inviting her to book group, to girls’ night out, and family cookouts. Lately they’d been at Ty and Lily’s.

  “Your brother said he’d be done sometime next week. I figured I’d get a head start bringing in some of my inventory.” Ty owned the most reputable construction company in the area. That he was Mia’s brother and dating one of their friends made him the go-to person for her renovation project.

  Mia opened a box and pulled out an eggplant silk negligee`. “You think people around here are gonna wear this stuff? You remember how cold it gets in winter, don’t you?”

  “And if you paid any attention in science class, you’d remember body heat is more effective at warming than clothing.” Grace got up and swiped the Charlotte Freya original from Mia.

  Charlotte, along with four other designers Grace had connected with while in Europe, had recently graduated from fashion school and needed a place to showcase their work. Grace came up with the idea to open a boutique to help new artists share their styles, as well as bring a little culture to small town America. She figured most of her sales would be online, but maybe she could help put Crystal Cove on the map.

  Thanks to her brother-in-law, Ben, she’d come up with a decent marketing plan. She hoped to get her life together enough to open start-up boutiques like this one in cities across the country within a year. Two tops. Not everyone could jet away to New York or Paris or Milan for the hottest fashions.

  And she realized most people didn’t have an extra five grand to drop on a pair of designer shoes. While her new merchandise would support the up-and-coming fashion industry, she would also have a gently used section of well-known brands.

  While she’d been blackballed by many, she still had a few connections from working retail in Europe. She may not know how to sew a button on a blouse or how to sketch a ball gown, but she had a good eye.

  “I paid attention to Mr. Brownstone. Remember him? He was the new health teacher my junior year in high school. You would have been a sophomore. Tall, dark, and sexy.”

  “Yeah. I remember him. I also remember Stacey Perelli spreading rumors that they’d had sex in the locker room.”

  “She was such a bitch. I still don’t believe it. Too bad she ruined Mr. Brownstone’s career. It was the first time I actually paid attention in class.”

  Mia and Grace may not have traveled in the same circles in high school, but at least they were never friends with Stacey. Grace stuck with the cheerleaders—which was odd cheering for her sister who played football up until her senior year in high school—and preferred dating boys from nearby towns.

  The boys in her school stopped holding her interest by the end of seventh grade. Many thought her to be a snob, which she probably was. The boys didn’t have high aspirations and were content working on their farms or working at their family’s small business.

  Not this girl. Grace had hightailed it out of this little town the second she crossed the stage and grabbed her high school diploma. Coming back and renting the former insurance company’s office space next to Lily’s spa was only temporary.

  Maine wasn’t exactly known for its fashion. The way she saw it, if she could make it in Maine, she could make it anywhere.

  “So what brings you by? I’m guessing it’s not to hel
p me move. You look like an ogre hobbling around in that thing.”

  The geriatric man who had a stroke behind the wheel left Mia with a broken leg that had only recently begun to heal. She wasn’t hobbling along on her crutches anymore, but Grace didn’t think Mia should be doing anything as physical as lifting either.

  “Ty says when he’s done in here he’s going to build an outside stairwell to the apartment above the spa. He said something about you moving in.”

  “Yeah. I’ve been at my parents’ house now for almost a year. I need my space.”

  “I can’t even imagine.” Mia plopped down on the chaise Grace had recently vacated. Her small, rugged figure looked incongruous to the feminine couch.

  “Now that Lily’s moved into your brother’s house, has he talked about popping the question?” With Lily’s tall, modelesque figure and Ty’s rugged looks, they’d make a stunning couple. Heck, they were gorgeous. And perfect. And Grace didn’t like Lily any less because of it.

  Was it only a few months ago when she’d learned of Lily’s past? It seemed like so much more time had passed. Their random connection had brought Grace closer into their close-knit circle of friends, and she was forever grateful.

  She admired Lily for coming out on top. From life as a bazillionaire to discovering her husband was a murderer, and then barely escaping her own father’s attempt on her life, Lily’s new life—thanks to the FBI and the witness protection plan—suited her well.

  While Grace had secretly envied Lily’s heritage, small town living actually looked good on her. Funny how Grace was hoping for the role reversal—small town girl turns into millionaire.

  “You’re going to Ben’s surprise party at Ty’s tonight, right?”

  “Since he’s my brother-in-law there’s no escaping it.”

  “Yeah, well, even if he wasn’t you’d still go. It’ll be fun. Now that Ty’s come out of his shell and is all ga-ga over Lily, he’s invited the entire town. My brother’s been in desperate need of friends, so this is good.”

  It was nice to be included, to be part of a group. She’d had plenty of friends in Europe, but most of the men and women were more focused on their careers or making connections than building relationships. Business acquaintances she’d call them now, even though she’d thought of them as friends before.

  “I told Lily I’d be over early to set up.” Grace slipped her cell phone out of her Michael Kors bag. “Which is about now.” Too bad she wouldn’t have time to get her nails fixed before the party.

  “Cool beans.” Mia got up and met Grace at the front door. “The place is looking good. It’s been Bergeron Insurance for as long as I can remember. I don’t think I ever stepped foot in here until Ruth and Herb retired and moved south. I’ve caught a glimpse or two of their grandson. Ryan is it? From the back, he seems like a hottie.”

  “Yes.” Grace would keep his identity a secret as long as Lily needed her to. The FBI agent was critical in keeping Lily safe from her imprisoned ex-husband and his criminal connections. Agent Thorne didn’t want the town knowing about him, and Grace would follow his wishes. The fewer people who knew who he was the better.

  People in town knew of the Bergeron’s grandson who used to visit them when he was younger but other than that, Ryan Thorne was just a name. When he sat Grace down and interrogated her after she’d admitted to inadvertently exposing Lily’s identity, she’d promised to keep his identity and presence in town between them.

  He’d set up Lily in what was now the Sea Salt Spa and gave her a new identity. Who knew she’d find her true love and happily ever after. Grace would find hers one day as well.

  Just not here.

  “Do you know if your new landlord is coming to the party?” Mia wiggled her brows and quickly turned her grin into a frown when Grace didn’t return the smile. “Don’t tell me... you have your eyes on your landlord. I won’t take him from you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Ag—Ryan? No. I’m not interested in him. It’s just business between us.”

  “You sure?”

  “Totally.”

  “Okay. Well, I should probably tell you who will be at the party.”

  There was only one person in Crystal Cove she didn’t want to run into. One person she’d managed to avoid for years, even living across the road from him.

  “I’m going to celebrate Ben’s birthday. I don’t care who else shows up,” she lied.

  “Then it shouldn’t bother you that Carter and Brady Marshall will be there.”

  “Good for them. Since they’re neighbors with Ben, I figured as much.” No. She hadn’t. Instead, she’d busied herself with the opening of her new shop and pretended the boy she’d been caught naked with in the middle of a row of blueberry bushes on prom night and his older, brooding brother didn’t exist.

  The most embarrassing night of her life had been caught on camera and spread all over the Internet by bitchy Stacey. It shouldn’t still bother her over a decade later, but the disapproving looks she’d gotten from Brady Marshall for months after were embarrassing, especially since their families were so close.

  Carter, she didn’t care as much about. He had just as much a flighty reputation as Grace, but since he was a guy it didn’t seem to matter as much.

  Hypocrites. Everyone was a hypocrite. Another reason she fled from Europe so quickly. She just didn’t expect the same here in Maine.

  BRADY HAD NINE HUNDRED things to do, which included him getting up at five in the morning, but he’d put in an appearance at Ben Martelli’s birthday party and pay the price in the morning. The man had been a good neighbor. A friend, Brady supposed.

  Running a farm in Maine was a twenty-four seven job. With blueberry season over and apples in full swing, Brady didn’t have much time to spare. The last of the apple pickers had cashed out, and Brady drove his side-by-side through the orchard, cleaning up trash and making sure there weren’t any apple picks left in the rows.

  His younger brother, Carter, took the golf cart to the back end of the field, loading it with the bushels of drops their weekend workers had filled throughout the day. Normally, Brady would spend his Saturday night pressing cider, but duty called. Being neighborly was just as important as cider pressing. Maybe.

  Making nice with the locals was good for business. Not that Brady had any problems with Ben. He was a good guy. He even convinced Alexis and her winery to form a partnership with Marshall Farm. He wasn’t much of a wine drinker, but the blueberry wines and raspberry wines had sold well, bringing him more business and a few extra bucks on the side.

  His father would’ve been proud. He’d been close with the Le Blancs and respected their winery, Coastal Vines. Before he died, he made Brady promise to finish his senior year at high school and to make a career doing what he loved. At seventeen, Brady didn’t have a clue what that would be but knew it would be something involved with the land.

  School didn’t come easy for him, but farming did. He loved driving the tractor in between the apple trees and along the blueberry trails. Planting, growing, pruning, and seeing the fruits of his labor had been more satisfying than anything else.

  Even the soft curves of a woman. He didn’t have much time for dating or being picky. He’d been on a handful of dates with farm girls from neighboring towns, but other than his on again off again dates with Julie Tufts from Lincolnville, he didn’t have much of a social life.

  If he were to settle down—which he hoped to someday—it would be with a woman who enjoyed farming and appreciated the land as much as he did. His mother had her eye set on Alexis Le Blanc for the longest time. She hadn’t been subtle with Alexis or her mother in her desire for them to get married, pump out a dozen babies, and live happily ever after.

  He and Alexis had humored his mother a few times by going out to Fish on the Wharf and having Billie fry them up some haddock and sea scallops. They enjoyed a few laughs and a bottle of wine, but there was no spark. They’d both been too in love with their land
to want to waste any time on a relationship.

  He respected Alexis and really liked her husband, Ben. Which was why Brady found himself parking his side-by-side in the barn.

  The low rumble of the golf cart told him Carter was done as well.

  Carter hopped out of the cart and began stacking the bushels of apples against the barn wall. “Got some nice looking drops. It’s ridiculous how many perfectly good apples people toss to the ground. They should realize what they buy in the grocery store eleven months of the year isn’t better than these drops.” He tossed an apple in the air, then took a bite out of it the second it reached his hand. “Nothing beats our Cortlands.”

  “No way, man. Macs are the best.” Brady picked through the bushels for a Macintosh and took a bite of his apple. It was his fourth of the day and he’d never tire of the crisp, sweet juice from the fruit.

  “Want to ride out to Ty’s together?” Carter asked.

  “I’m not planning on staying long.”

  “Party pooper.”

  “Some people have to work in the morning.” Carter did too, but he was the type to roll out of bed and straight on to the field while Brady preferred enjoying his cup of coffee and big breakfast while watching the news online, scouting the weather. He could go a solid seven hours before coming in to eat while Carter tended to stop every few hours for a snack. The kid was always eating.

  Three square meals, that’s all Brady needed. He was disciplined and scheduled. Since he couldn’t schedule the weather and had limited control on the growth of their fruit, the one thing he could control he did so with precision.

  “You haven’t been out in a while. Think folks will recognize you?”

  “Why? Who all is going? I thought it was just Ben and Alexis’ friends.”

  “Ben’s done a lot for the community. Sounds like it’s going to be a rager. The Petersons brought over their spit for a pig roast. Guess Ben’s helped them get a lot of business too. Bacon, it’s all the rage.”

  The Petersons’ pig farm had done well with more people buying fresh instead of the grocery store specials. Anyone who’s had fresh sausage, bacon, or pork chops from a farm-raised pig would never buy from a grocery store again.