Here With You Read online

  Brady kept a hand on her lower back, following her to his father’s chair, where she lowered herself into the quilt.

  “If only my sons would give me a grandchild of my own.”

  Alexis snorted. “You can borrow Sophie anytime, Mrs. M.”

  “I plan on taking you up on it. You two go eat lunch. I’ll keep an eye on her. Promise.”

  Brady followed Alexis into the kitchen where he took out the chicken tetrazzini and three plates.

  “Did my sister make that?”

  “Yup.” He scooped some onto a plate and slid it into the microwave. “It’s amazing. Your mom was making meals for us and asked Grace to fill in while she was gone.”

  “I’m surprised she didn’t ask me.”

  “You’ve got your hands full. Sophie. The vineyard. Your own husband.”

  “True. Grace doesn’t really have anything going on.”

  He wanted to come to her defense, to tell Alexis how proud he was of Grace for following her dreams. He never would have thought of Alexis as the snarky sister, but her comments last month at the festival were a little snotty toward her sister, yet Grace didn’t argue back.

  Interesting how people weren’t necessarily as they seemed.

  “How’s your mom doing?” Alexis asked.

  Brady was grateful for the change in subject. He didn’t want to talk about Grace with Alexis right now. He filled her in on the chemo, the slow recovery, the depression that was ultimately settling in.

  “I haven’t seen her this happy in a long time. You and Sophie are good for her.” The microwave dinged, and he took their lunches out. “Maybe she’ll eat a little with you here.” He scraped a small portion on a salad plate and brought it to the living room.

  Curled up in her lap was Sophie, book in hand.

  “Oh, that’s too cute,” Alexis said softly from behind. “Pinkalicious is her favorite book. I hate it. I think that’s why Grace bought it for Sophie. That and a zillion princess books.”

  “Let me guess. You got her the farm and sports books.” Of course, Grace would buy her niece girly books. Instead of rolling his eyes as Alexis had done, he smiled inside.

  “You know it. I’ve been avoiding this book forever. It’s so annoying. Of course, Sophie’s obsessed. I already read it to her four times today. I’ll gladly pass on the chore to your mother.”

  “This is the cutest book,” his mother said from across the living room. “Having two boys, I never got to indulge in stories like these. Make a note of it, son. Marriage. Grandchildren. Lots. Especially girls.”

  “I’ll get right on that,” Brady laughed. Grace’s bright smile came to mind. Her big green eyes. Her soft lips. Her kind soul. She may not be a farmer at heart like him or her sister, but she had other wonderful traits. “Do you want lunch?”

  “After my snuggles. I think someone is getting sleepy.”

  “Looks to me like two someones,” Alexis said.

  They retreated to the kitchen and ate their lunch listening to giggles from the other room.

  “Your mom is good with her.”

  “She’s in heaven. Thanks for coming by. You’ve really made her day.”

  “Any time.”

  They talked about the weather, their hopes for next year’s crops, and Ty’s plans for a remodel.

  “He offered to come by next week. Said business is pretty slow before and after Thanksgiving. No one wants their house torn apart during the holidays.”

  “Good for you. Oh, speaking of Thanksgiving.” Alexis scraped her plate, pushing the last of the chicken on to her fork. “Ben and I will be going away for a few days. I’m sure everything will be fine, but if you hear of any shenanigans at the vineyard, will you let me know?”

  “Sure. Do you need me to watch Hemmy as well?” Her gigantic Bernese Mountain Dog was a gentle giant. Could be therapeutic for his mother as well.

  “Really? We planned on bringing him with us. Are you sure he won’t be an inconvenience?”

  “Not at all. We thought about getting a rescue dog this winter anyway. Might as well get used to having one under foot by babysitting Hemsworth.”

  “You’re awesome.”

  He picked up their plates and rinsed them off in the sink. Knowing his mother wouldn’t want her food too hot he didn’t bother reheating her plate. She’d only use the temperature as an excuse to put it aside.

  When he and Alexis entered the living room they both chuckled at the scene. Both were out cold, Sophie draped across his mother’s lap, the old quilt wrapped around them.

  “Isn’t that sweet? I almost hate to disturb them.”

  “You can leave Sophie here if you want. I can text you when she wakes up.”

  “I appreciate it, but she’s a bear if she doesn’t get her one and half hour nap. She won’t sleep long like this. I can get her back to sleep when we get home if I leave now.”

  Brady helped with her bag and both doors, watching as Alexis buckled Sophie in her car seat.

  “Thanks again for lunch. If I don’t see you before we leave, I hope you’re able to have a nice Thanksgiving.”

  “We may skip it this year. Carter and I aren’t the best in the kitchen. I’ll give my hand at it, but may end up eating frozen dinners.”

  “I feel bad. If we were home we would have invited you up. Maybe for Christmas we can get the families together. My mom would love to hang out with your mom.”

  “Sounds like a great idea.”

  He hugged her and stepped back as she drove off in her SUV.

  The Le Blancs were away. Alexis and Ben would be away. So where would Grace be spending Thanksgiving?

  She needed company, and he needed help in the kitchen. Not that he’d use that as an excuse when inviting her to Thanksgiving dinner.

  He’d keep the real reason he wanted her at his dinner table a secret.

  He was falling for her. Deeper than he should, faster than was safe. Maybe a chic store owner and a poor farmer had more in common than he thought?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “FOR REAL?” GRACE NEARLY tripped in her heeled boots and dropped the crockpot of minestrone soup in the middle of Brady’s kitchen. “You want me to help you make a turkey? And stuffing and ... all the other stuff?”

  “I know I’m asking a lot. You probably have other plans.”

  Brady took the crockpot from her, and she tried to ignore the tingles that shot through her legs when their fingers touched.

  “Actually...” Actually, her family completely ditched her without a second thought. Sort of. It surprised her when Alexis came by to tell her of their family plans. She probably scheduled the mini-getaway to avoid having to invite Grace over for Thanksgiving. “My parents are still away, and my sister and Ben are going to Canada to visit some wineries.”

  “I heard about that.”

  “You did?” She propped a hip against the counter and watched Brady lift the lid to the soup and dip his face into the steam. If he knew, this was a pity invitation.

  “Mom is going to love this.”

  “I had a bowl for lunch. It’s safe.”

  “You don’t have to convince me every time you bring us food. The beef stew the other night was perfect.”

  “I forgot to take out the bay leaves. You’re not supposed to eat them.”

  “I didn’t know that, but my mom did. She ate an entire bowl and had another the next day for breakfast.”

  “That sounds disgusting.”

  “When you haven’t eaten in weeks and you finally have your appetite back, I guess anything goes.”

  “Desperate—”

  “No.” He hushed her with his finger on her lips. “I didn’t mean it that way. She didn’t scarf down your food because she was desperate and would eat anything in sight. She ate it because it was delicious.”

  “I’m glad she liked it,” she said around his finger.

  “You don’t take compliments well, do you?” Brady dropped his finger and put his hands on her hips, drawing
her into his body.

  They didn’t often come her way, but she wouldn’t say that to him. She didn’t need a pity invite to Thanksgiving, and she didn’t need pity compliments. Brady and Carter were raised on manners and knew how to treat and talk to a lady. Even when her food did taste like crap, they sang her praises.

  She’d like to believe some of the compliments were genuine though and not stemmed from proper good old-fashioned etiquette.

  Ignoring his question, she went with a distraction. “I didn’t have time to make dessert, but I brought ice cream. It’s in the car.” Still in her winter coat and high-heeled boots, she hustled backward and tugged open the kitchen door.

  Brady was waiting for her when she came up the steps and took the bag from her hand. “You’re spoiling us.”

  “I have to eat anyway. Might as well share.” Not that she normally cooked every day. Once a week, maybe, until lately.

  “Speaking of.” Brady put the ice cream in the freezer and then reached for an envelope propped between the salt and pepper shakers. “This is for you.”

  “What is it?” She slid the white envelope between her fingers.

  “Grocery money.”

  “I’m not taking your money.” She held the envelope out toward him.

  “You’ve been feeding us for two weeks now. Carter and I eat a hell... excuse me, a heck of a lot more than you do. Your grocery bill had to have quadrupled.”

  Actually, it had. And she hadn’t given one thought about it being because of Carter and Brady. Eating healthy was more expensive than eating crap foods. It didn’t seem right. She could buy a bag of chips, a carton of ice cream, and a high calorie, high sodium, high-fat meal for less than ten bucks. But to make a healthy salad with all the fixings would cost just as much, if not more, and wouldn’t be as filling.

  She enjoyed cooking for them. Loved how they made her feel like a princess. No. A queen. Doing nice things for people—especially two very handsome men—made her feel good. So cooking for them was partly selfish.

  And as a side bonus, most meals ended with savory kisses from Brady. The reward far outweighed the time, effort, and money she invested.

  “I have to cook for myself anyway. It’s not a problem.”

  “I doubt you’d be cooking so much. Or so often. You work all day, slave in the kitchen, then drive over here. The least I can do is cover your expenses.”

  “I’m not taking your money.” She shoved the envelope against his chest and let go. It fell to the floor between their feet.

  “You’re stubborn,” he grumbled, bending down to pick it up.

  “Likewise.”

  Brady straightened with a smile. “So how about this.” He unbuttoned her coat and slid it off her shoulders, hanging it up on the hooks behind the door. Returning to her, he threaded his fingers in the loops of her jeans and yanked her tight into his body.

  Her heels had her stumbling ungracefully into his chest. Which he seemed to like. “You’re looking rather smug right now, Mr. Marshall. What is it you’re planning?” Grace slid her hands up his chest and snaked them around his neck.

  “A date.”

  “A date?”

  “A date. Someplace nice where you don’t have to worry about lifting a finger.”

  “Pizza works fine for me.” She didn’t want him to spend his well-earned money on overpriced food.

  “We can do better than pizza.” He dipped his chin and drew her bottom lip between his. His hands worked their way down her back, stopping at the top of her butt.

  Lower she wanted to tell him. Anytime they kissed he kept his hands in respectable places. Her hips. Her shoulders. Her cheeks. Oh, how she loved when he cupped her face in his palms. Swoon-worthy.

  Never the ass. Never a brush against her breasts, unless it was his chest crushing into hers. Always the gentleman.

  His tongue found hers and coaxed and caressed as he rubbed her lower back. Maybe if she stood on her tiptoes his hands would drop to her cheeks.

  Nope. Even in her three-inch heels, he didn’t let his hands dangle.

  The other night when he kissed her goodbye, she’d leaned into him against the car and felt his arousal. The primal instinct to rub against him had been strong, and she did. Immediately Brady had pulled back and toned down their kiss.

  While she didn’t want to jump into bed with him—well, maybe she did, just a little—she wouldn’t mind going from first to second base.

  Finding herself dangerously close to his arousal once more, she resisted the temptation to rub herself like a cat—a cat in heat—against him.

  She tugged at his hair, lightening the moment. “You need a haircut.” The first time she kissed him she could sift her hand through it and it barely threaded through her fingers. She liked being able to tug, to grab ahold of it, but shorter was definitely sexier on him.

  “No time,” he said between kisses, trailing his lips along her jawline.

  A noise from behind had her dropping her hands. “I think your mom is awake.”

  With a sigh and one last brush of his lips against hers, he stepped away. “She’ll be happy to see you. With all the times you’ve been over, she has yet to come out of her room and thank you.”

  Yeah. If the snubbing she got last month was any indication, Grace didn’t think Mrs. Marshall would be overly ecstatic to see her.

  “Mom.” Brady left Grace to wrap an arm around his mother.

  Grace retreated to the door and unzipped her boots. When she looked up she did her best to control the shock in her eyes. She’d never seen Mrs. Marshall so frail. So thin. So dependent on another human being. In all her encounters with her, granted they were mostly from her childhood years when her family walked down the road to pick blueberries and apples, the woman had always been a pillar of strength.

  She remembered hearing Alexis boast about Mrs. Marshall, and how she could drive a tractor and toss a bail of hay over her shoulder. Grace had worried their own mother would be envious of their neighbor. That was never the case.

  Dorothy Marshall may have been the epitome of physical strength, but Claudia Le Blanc had a quality more dangerous. She could peer at Grace or Alexis and force the truth to come out with one look from her deep brown eyes. No one stood a chance with their mother.

  Which was why Grace had avoided her family as much as possible. With Alexis as the goody-two-shoes and a mother with a sixth sense, all Grace had was her ability to sweet talk her father into siding with her.

  On many occasions, he had. But when push came to shove, no one disagreed with Claudia.

  “Brady says you’ve been bringing dinners over while your parents are away. Thank you.” The last two words came out strained.

  “You’re welcome. How are you feeling, Mrs. Marshall?”

  “Like a woman who has been pricked, prodded, electrocuted, stomped over, and hung up to dry. I can only imagine if I hadn’t been in better condition. If I’d had a desk job my whole life instead of being outdoors.”

  A passive-aggressive jab. She and Alexis must have taken lessons in it.

  “Have a seat, Mom.” Brady kicked out a chair and gently eased his mother into it.

  “I made minestrone soup. Will that be okay tonight, or would you like something more bland?”

  “You been telling stories?” she asked Brady.

  “The whole town knows what you’re going through. Everyone cares. You’ve read the cards from others, those who’ve been through chemo before.”

  Mrs. Marshall cleared her throat and folded her hands on the table. “I’d like a cup of chamomile tea. And I’ll try the soup. If it’s too spicy I won’t be able to eat it.”

  “Fresh herbs only. Well, as fresh as we can get in Maine in November.”

  “Did you use the herbs from my garden?”

  Was that an accusatory tone or a hopeful one? Grace wasn’t sure what the right answer was. She went with honesty. “I got them at the whole food store in Rockland.”

  “Those places ar
e stealing money from people. You can grow and harvest your own food and save yourself thousands of dollars every year.”

  “I don’t have much of a green thumb. Or the space at my apartment.”

  “Your mother told me you were planning on moving out. Young people these days.” She shook her head in disappointment. “Thank you,” she said to Brady when he handed her the cup of tea.

  “It’s Lily’s old place, right next door to my shop.”

  “Mmhm.” She sipped her tea, not yet making eye contact with Grace. “Nothing wrong with your parents’ place as far as I can tell.”

  Grace didn’t want to stand there defending herself or her decisions. Knowing dinner would only be more stressed with her there, she forced a smile and her manners.

  “It was nice seeing you again, Mrs. Marshall. I’ll let you and your family eat in private.” She reached for her coat on the hook by the door and shoved her feet in her boots. Damned things wouldn’t go in smoothly. She should have worn sneakers. Or flip flops for a faster getaway. Bending down as gracefully as she could, she zipped up her boots over her skinny jeans and tipped her head to Brady.

  “Have a good night.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “No.” She held out her hand to stop him. “Eat dinner with your mother. I’ll be by in a few days... if you still need me.”

  “Grace,” he pleaded.

  She avoided eye contact and lowered her head, letting herself out of the kitchen.

  The night had turned brisk, which was perfect for cooling her cheeks and her temper. She knew she shouldn’t let people get to her so easily. It was the passive-aggressive, condescending attitude people gave her that cut her to the pulp.

  Sniffing back angry tears, Grace started her car and sped off, not waiting for it to warm up. It had only been parked for a few minutes anyway.

  Just long enough to have a thrilling make out session with Brady, and then get cut down by his mother.

  Why she thought the two of them had a chance, she didn’t know.

  Besides. A year from now she wouldn’t be in Crystal Cove anymore. Her store would be run by someone else while she opened up a bigger place closer to one of the fashion capitals. By this summer she’d hire a couple potential assistant managers.