Here With You Page 25

  “The soap keeps the deer away,” he told a little boy.

  “But deers are nice.”

  “They are, but if we let them eat all the buds off our new trees, they won’t grow big and strong and make apples for you to pick in the fall.”

  “Oh.”

  He loved how kids could either accept an answer without question or, on the flipside, ask four thousand questions. Three thousand of which he had no clue how to answer.

  Today was one of those days he both loved and dreaded.

  Thursday. Closed.

  Too much quiet time on the farm. Too much time for memories of Grace’s kindness to slither its way into his heart.

  Too much time to look back on all the wonderful, selfless, beautiful gestures she did for others.

  Learning to cook. Cooking for him and his family even when his mother was difficult to be around. Watching her niece even when her sister chided her. Helping Ty find an engagement ring. Being humble when she was thanked and complimented.

  Brady stooped to pick at a clump of weeds at the base of a Jersey bush. The sun shone bright and warm. The farm was just close enough to the ocean to have the benefits of a breeze.

  It blew past him, and he could’ve sworn he smelled—even tasted—a hint of floral spice.

  Grace. He swallowed. Hard. It had been nearly five months since he’d seen her.

  The first weeks were the most painful. He could still smell traces of her on his clothes. Even on his pillow, though, she’d never slept at his house.

  Five months later he shouldn’t be smelling her. Not out in the middle of his blueberry bushes. Thank God they weren’t together last summer or everything blueberry—his livelihood—would remind him of her.

  Pink Converse sneakers appeared in his peripheral vision. Brady swallowed again and let his gaze travel up legs.

  Long legs.

  Legs he’d memorized a long time ago.

  Legs that had been wrapped around him. Many times.

  The fringe of denim kissed the tops of her thighs. He couldn’t look any higher, scared what he saw would be a figment of his imagination.

  “Hey.”

  Nope. It was real. She was real. The sweetness of her voice floated down to him. He wasn’t ready for this. There was still too much built up anger. Built up hurt.

  He took his time straightening his legs and coming to a full standing position. Brushing his hands off on his thighs, he skimmed the bill of his baseball cap with his fingertips and braced himself for the path his gaze was about to finish.

  A bright pink shirt overlapped the top of her denim shorts by a few inches. He thanked her fashion sense for not showing any midriff.

  Tickling, kissing, skimming his hands across her stomach and on her sides was one of his favorite places to touch.

  Slowly, his gaze finished its slow walk up her torso, over the roundness of her breasts. Breasts she liked to cover with her arms. Breasts she said were too small but fit perfectly in the palm of his hands.

  The pink shirt dipped, stopping an inch above her cleavage. Not an inch and a half. An inch. He knew because he’d spent a lot of time kissing her there as well. And along her neck, naked and long, covered only by the wisps of hair blowing in the breeze.

  Her face was exactly as he remembered it. Except for the eyes. They weren’t full of life. The green irises dark and worried. The smile on her lips forced.

  Brady knew the difference. The “I’m okay” smile after his mother or Alexis had offended her was a far cry from the one that lit up her face when she was truly happy.

  Like on Christmas Eve when he gave her that silly flash drive of recipes. It cost him less than fifteen dollars, and one would think he’d bought her a cruise around the world.

  That was a genuine smile. She loved it. And she loved him. Or that was what she’d said.

  “The blueberries look awesome.”

  “The Jersey berries aren’t ready yet.” Smooth.

  “I sampled some along the way. I’m not sure what type those are,” she pointed to her left, “but they’re super sweet. I can’t wait to pick them.”

  “We’re closed today.” Again. Way to make conversation.

  As far as he knew, Grace hadn’t been home since she moved to Boston in May. If she wanted to be a paying customer and pick berries while visiting her family, she’d have to do it during normal business hours.

  When he wasn’t alone. With her. In the bushes.

  “I know. I came out here to find you.”

  If she said she wanted to stay friends, he’d have to turn her down. He couldn’t pretend she hadn’t hurt him, pretend he didn’t know the curves of her body, pretend he didn’t still love her.

  “I’m busy.” He adjusted his baseball cap again and turned, heading toward his tractor which was two rows over.

  She followed.

  Ignoring her, he started it up and was shocked when she jumped up, resting one of her gorgeous butt cheeks on his knee. “I’ve never been on a tractor before.”

  “Grace.” He shut off the ignition and slipped out from under her, hopping down to the ground. The gentleman in him reached for her hand and helped her down.

  Big mistake.

  Her skin was satin against his. As soon as her bright pink sneakers hit the dirt, he let go.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Just thought I’d go for a ride.”

  “No.” He took off his hat and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Why are you here?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Please. Lie to me instead.” He cringed. Sarcasm was never his strong suit, and he didn’t think it sounded good on him now.

  “You have every right to hate me.” Grace sat on the dirty bumper of the tractor, her shoulders slumped over.

  “I don’t hate you.”

  “I hurt you. Not intentionally but selfishly.”

  “Why?”

  “If I told you I was moving away, would you have wanted to start a relationship with me?”

  He’d like to say yes, but he knew it wasn’t true.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I do. I did. You’re not the kind of guy who takes relationships lightly. If you knew there was no chance at us being forever, you wouldn’t have been interested in me. Heck.” Grace stood up and placed her hands haughtily on her hips. “Why were you interested in me?”

  Going over the dozen ways she brought life and color to his gray world, or the hundreds of ways she’d made him smile, made him laugh, wouldn’t help his cause any.

  Hell, he didn’t know what his cause was anymore.

  Protecting his heart. That was all.

  “You didn’t come here to hear what first attracted me to you.”

  “Maybe I did.” She brushed at a stray hair caught in her lashes. Real today, not the long false ones she liked to put on. “I want to know if it’s enough.”

  “Enough?”

  “Enough to make it work. I’d like...” she stepped closer, too close, and tipped her chin up to him. Those eyes, as green as the leaves on the Jersey bushes and round as the berries growing on top, focused on him. “I’d like a second shot at ... us.” She placed her hands on his chest, and he did all he could not to drop his lips to hers.

  He’d like nothing better. He’d love another shot. Another opportunity to hold her in his arms again.

  But then she’d leave. She’d go back to Boston to her fancy life while he dug in the dirt and watched the weather and shoveled manure over his new plants.

  Getting back together would only drag out the inevitable.

  “Who says I haven’t moved on?”

  “Oh.” Grace jumped back as if she’d been stung. “Oh,” she said again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I don’t want to be...”

  The other woman. It was the only way to keep the band-aid on his wounds still intact.

  “Okay.” Grace pulled at the hem of her shirt straightening it, along with her shoulders, with a new determinedness
, and a trace of sadness in her eyes. “Before I go, can I tell you something?”

  Anything. Stay. Don’t ever leave.

  “If you hurry.”

  Grace nodded. “You’re a good man, Brady. You’re kind and thoughtful and loyal. You’re funny and intelligent. And sexy.” She gave him a half-assed smile. “I hope your new ... girlfriend appreciates all you have to offer. Don’t settle for anything less than you’re worth. And you’re worth ... everything.”

  “Uh. Yeah.” Guilt crept up his spine. She’d feel like a fool once she found out he was just as single as he was before he met her.

  “That’s not what I came to say though.” Grace tucked her hands in her shorts, the white pockets peeking out from under the short hem. “After high school, I couldn’t get out of here fast enough. I thought this town was too small for me. I thought if I experienced a fancy vineyard in Italy I’d fall in love with my family’s business. Only I discovered I wasn’t meant for the business. Drinking wine was my specialty.”

  “Mhm.” Brady didn’t know what he was supposed to do or say, so he copied her and tucked his hands in the front of his jeans as well. She was stalling and he didn’t like that he didn’t mind.

  “I’ve always been a bit of a clothes whore. Okay, bad choice of words there.” Grace lifted and dropped her shoulders. “So then I tried my hand at fashion school.”

  “Grace,” he interrupted. “I know this already. What is it you’re trying to say?”

  “I went to Europe to find myself. To figure out what I wanted to do in life. I thought I knew and then ... I didn’t. When I came back to Maine it was supposed to be temporarily. I didn’t think I belonged here. That’s why I wanted to leave.”

  “Again. I know.”

  “No.” She took her hands out of her pockets and gripped on to his forearms. “You see, I did find myself. Here. In Maine. With you.”

  “In Boston.” He warmed under her touch, still hating the visceral reaction he had to her.

  “I don’t regret going to Europe. Do I regret some of the choices I made? Yes. But if I didn’t go, if I’d stayed in Maine, I wouldn’t have been happy. We may have hooked up, but I doubt it. I’d have always been the obnoxious, trampy younger sister of Alexis. You want to know what I learned?”

  “That you love fashion, and Boston is the city you were meant to live in.”

  Grace shook her head. “I discovered myself. I realized I wasn’t running away from my life in Maine, I was trying to find myself. I learned it’s okay to be different. It’s okay not to fall into the family’s footsteps. I also learned to love.”

  Brady balled his hands into fists in his pockets, forcing them to stay put.

  “I learned what it’s like to have real friends. And I learned how to be a sister. I couldn’t have done that if I didn’t leave and if I didn’t come back.”

  But you still live in Boston.

  “That’s nice.”

  Grace licked her lips and stepped back.

  “I like who I am now. I respect that you’ve moved on. I won’t do anything to interfere with your life, but I want you to know you’ll always hold a special place in my heart.”

  Unclenching his hands, he slipped them out of his pockets and ran them across his face. “You’ll always be special to me too, Grace.”

  Tears filled her eyes, and she nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for saying that. I’ll always regret how much I hurt you. More than any of the mistakes I’ve made, that has been my biggest.”

  “Grace.”

  “No. Don’t say anything just to be nice.” She held up a hand and walked backward. “I won’t get between you and your new girlfriend. If I see you on the street, if she comes into The Closet, I’ll be civil. I promise.”

  “You’re not working at The Closet anymore.”

  “Oh. I guess I didn’t mention that.” Grace flashed him with another sad smile. “Boston isn’t for me. The people I love and cherish are here. I moved back home.”

  Brady stood like an idiot with his mouth hanging open as Grace spun around and ran down the row of blueberry bushes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY- SEVEN

  SHE WAS SUCH A FOOL. Of course, Brady moved on. He was perfect boyfriend and husband material. Why he had been single in the first place was a shocker to Grace.

  Wiping the tears and dirt from her eyes, she looked left then right at the end of the row. Seeing Brady again had her disoriented, not only physically but mentally as well. In her mind, she thought she’d talk to him, ask him for forgiveness, and then jump into his arms and kiss him senseless.

  That was how it worked in the movies.

  Only Brady hadn’t reacted when she touched him, except to recoil. She felt the tenseness in his chest, then in his arms. She hadn’t meant to make him wince, and it hurt knowing her touch did that.

  With her track record as a slutty mistress, she couldn’t blame him for thinking she’d try to take him away from another woman.

  Her stomach shook from tears. She didn’t want to picture Brady touching another woman. Of someone else being on the receiving end of his charming smile and soft kisses.

  Tears blurred her vision, and the drumming of her heart lodged its way up to her ears so she couldn’t even hear her own footsteps on the gravel pathway.

  “You’re such a fool,” she said aloud.

  “No. I am.”

  Grace gasped and whirled around. “Brady?” She wiped under her eyes with the back of her index finger, not caring how much black mascara came off.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I can’t possibly imagine what you have to apologize for.” She sniffed, wishing she had a tissue. Pretty soon her nose was going to run, and nothing but a queen-size blanket would be able to stop it.

  “Plenty.” He reached into his back pocket and handed her a handkerchief.

  “Guys don’t carry handkerchiefs around with them anymore.”

  “It’s a rag. Sometimes I need one working out here.”

  “Why?” She didn’t care why. She needed to get the hell out of dodge before her face turned into a total snot bucket.

  “Do you really want to know why or are you going to take it?” He shook it at her and she swiped it, not even turning around to blow her nose.

  “Thanks,” her voice was nasally through the rag.

  “I lied to you.”

  “What?” Again the annoying nasal voice.

  “Maybe not lied, but let you assume. I sort of implied something that was never true.”

  “You never loved me.” Her worst fear had come true. “I should’ve known.” Even if she and Brady couldn’t be together, she could hold on to the love they once shared. If it was a sham...

  “Hell! Why would you ever think that? I haven’t stopped loving you since the first time I kissed you.”

  “Stop.” Surely her raccoon eyes and toddler nose was enough to keep him at bay. “I won’t be the cause for another breakup. I appreciate you saying that—”

  “Hell, Grace. I don’t have a girlfriend. Do you really think I could move on so quickly after everything we shared?”

  “What?” She needed to hear it again. Or was she having a heat stroke in the middle of his farm? Was he a mirage? His words all in her head?

  “Honey.” Those hands. Big, strong, warm, comforting. Those were real. Solid and strong as they cupped her cheeks. “There is no one else.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Very. Are you sure you’re moving home?”

  “I already did.”

  And no one told him? “When?”

  “Last week. I wanted to get everything in order before seeing you. I know I don’t deserve your trust or your love, but I promise I’m not leaving again. Well, I’ll go to Boston from time to time to check in on The Closet, but my home is here.”

  “You’ll fill me in on work later. First, tell me again. You’re staying in Maine? For good.”

  “If this is where you’ll be. Yes.”

&n
bsp; Brady crushed his mouth against hers, not taking her gently like he normally did. She clutched his shoulders and held on for dear life while he welcomed her home.

  When they were both short on air, he released her lips. “We agreed to keep the past the past, but I do need to know one thing.”

  “Anything.”

  Brady rested his chin on top of her head. “That morning after your prom when I found you naked out here in the blueberry bushes...”

  Grace giggled. “You thought I slept with your brother.”

  “I found him with his pants down too.”

  “I won’t share his secrets, but I can tell you mine.”

  “I don’t want secrets between us, Grace.”

  “Me either.” She took off his baseball cap and turned it backward so she had better access to his face. “I was drunk.”

  “Most bad stories start this way.”

  “And agreed to a game of strip poker.”

  “With my brother?”

  “And some others.”

  “I’m not going to like this.”

  Grace giggled again.

  “It was down to me and Shep Gagnon.”

  “Shep? He could eat you in your sleep. He had to be at least four hundred pounds in high school, and I don’t think he’s dropped an ounce since.”

  “Shep was nice.”

  “Not if he forced you to take your clothes off.”

  “Anyway, I thought I had him beat. I was down to my underwear and bra and bet it all. He beat my straight with a straight flush.”

  “Let me guess. My dumbass brother thought it would be funny to take off with your clothes?”

  “Yeah. He told me where they were. I got a little lost out here when I stumbled upon ... you.” She pulled his head down and kissed his lips.

  “I’ll never forget the image of you staggering among my blueberry bushes stark naked and drunk.”

  “And I’ll never forget you coming to my rescue. Then and now.”

  “Always.”

  “I like that.”

  “Me too.” That mischievous gleam in his eye twinkled back at her. “So you’ve never made love in the middle of my blueberry farm?”