Falling For Grace

He rolled his eyes. “Irene, if I thought I could do without you, I’d fire you.”

He could hear a wide smile in her voice as she replied, “But you can’t do without me, Jack. So you won’t fire me. Besides, I’m the only real friend you have.”

She was so close to the truth it made him wince. The fact that his fifty-five-year-old secretary was his very best friend said a damn lot about his life.

“There’s nothing to tell,” he said crossly.

“Well, frankly, I don’t understand, Jack. I thought you went to Biloxi to get away from the stress of this place, not investigate your nephew.”

“I’m not doing an investigation, Irene,” he said tiredly.

There was a long pause, then she asked, “So how long are you planning to stay down there?”

“I don’t know. It all depends.”

“On what?”

His beautiful pregnant neighbor, Jack thought.

Out loud he said, “My mood, Irene.”

“Hmm. Well, I hope you’re in a better one the next time you call.”

“So do I,” he rumbled, then hung up the phone before she could say more.

Rising from the couch, he walked out onto the porch and gazed at the Gulf of Mexico. A brisk south wind was white-capping the water and pushing the waves onto the beach. The stretch of empty sand was no more than seventy-five to a hundred yards away and ran parallel to the front of the house. At the moment egrets and gulls screeched and swooped over the rolling salt water, some strutting boldly upon the white sand in search of a scrap to eat.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in Biloxi. He thought it might have been seven years ago. Vaguely, he recalled a case he’d been handling at the time. A casino had been suing a building contractor for some reason that escaped him now.

Since then, several more casinos had sprouted up along the beaches of the coastal resort town. But surprisingly, the added traffic and noise was far removed from this place, which, being some three miles away from town, had somehow managed to stay quietly sheltered. Other than the house next to him, there were no other residences around.

Jack couldn’t imagine Trent staying in such a quiet, isolated place. He always remembered the boy liking bright lights and excitement. Jack figured a plush room in one of the casinos would have been more to his liking. But then, he had to admit Grace Holliday would be an attraction in her own right for any young man. Perhaps between her and the gaming tables, his nephew had kept himself entertained and content with the place.

Damn it, what was he doing? He was already making the supposition that Grace Holliday was carrying Trent’s child. And that could be the furthermost thing from the truth.

If Jack were being completely honest with himself, the simple fact that Grace was carrying a child, no matter who had fathered it, bothered him. Though he didn’t understand why. Nowadays unwed mothers were the norm rather the exception. Besides, she was a total stranger to him. How she chose to live her life was none of his business.

Yet last night, when she’d offered him her hand, he’d sensed something different about her. It was almost as though she were a Southern-bred lady with pride and morals and family values. Not some woman who would sleep with a man, then try to extort money from him.

Hellfire, Jack, he silently cursed himself. You’ve been in the courtroom too long. You can’t see a gold digger when one is standing right in front of you.

Hours later, a squeaking noise grew louder, intruding on the fringes of Jack’s slumber. Damn birds, why didn’t they go back to the beach where they belonged? he wondered drowsily.

Another screeching squawk pierced his ears and popped his eyes wide open. Above his head, he saw a network of pine boughs swishing in the gentle breeze. Where the hell was he?

Scraping his fingers through his hair, he sat up on the chaise longue and through squinted eyes glanced around the small backyard. Everything came back to him with sudden clarity. The doctor’s grim edict. The long drive from Houston to Biloxi yesterday. The weariness he’d felt last night before Grace Holliday had made her uninvited appearance in the bungalow.

The memory of his pretty neighbor had him quickly glancing at the place next door. She could be home now. He hadn’t been watching; he’d spent most of the afternoon working on brief for a major upcoming trial. He’d come outside for a break and the last thing he remembered was sitting on the longue, listening to the lulling sound of the restless ocean and drinking in the scent of pine and salt water.

He must have been more tired than he’d thought to have fallen asleep like that. His lips twisted ruefully at the thought. Another clue that he was getting old and burned out.

Rising from the longue, he started for the house, then stopped dead in his tracks as Grace’s voice floated over to him.

“Joshua, don’t let your instrument sag. What have I been telling you for the past three weeks? You must keep it up and level at all times. Now, hold it there and start again. And this time don’t disappoint me.”

Jack’s eyes opened wider. The woman wasn’t in any condition for kinky, afternoon sex, was she?

Not less than fifteen feet away, a chain-link fence, along with several head-high azalea bushes, separated the two backyards.

Not knowing what to expect, he walked to the fence and peered through the bushes. About ten feet away, on a brick patio, Grace was standing with her back to him. Her hair was once more piled atop her head in a mass of loose curls. She was still wearing the yellow blouse and long skirt he’d seen her in early this morning.

As for the reprimanded Joshua, there was no sight of him. Then suddenly the squeaking noise that had awoken Jack moments earlier began again. Grace stepped to one side, giving him a bird’s-eye view of the culprit.

He appeared to be about eight years old. A shock of brown bangs threatened to jab his eyes and his tongue stuck from one corner of his mouth as he concentrated for all he was worth on the small violin tucked beneath his chin.

A music student! God help him, he’d come here for peace and quiet. This was the most torturous noise he’d ever heard in his life! And Grace Holliday couldn’t be a music teacher. She was too young. Too pregnant! Women like her didn’t do things like this, he silently argued.

“That’s much better, Joshua.” She spoke again. “But you’re letting your bow slide. Remember you must keep it straight with the bridge. And level.”

“Yes, I remember, Miss Holliday. But when I’m thinking about the notes my fingers have to make, I forget about the bow,” the youngster complained.

Jack watched her give the boy an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “I know you do, Joshua. But soon it will all come together for you and you’ll be playing Strauss in no time. I promise.”

Strauss! Hell’s bells, this kid couldn’t even play the scales. Was she loony?

Jack didn’t wait around to hear more. The screeching sounds of horse hair pulling and pushing against metal strings filled the backyard again, drowning out the breeze and the call of the seagulls.

He escaped into the bungalow, glad he had the windows shut and the air conditioner running. It was time for dinner, anyway, he thought. He’d fix himself something to eat, then maybe later, after “poor little Joshua” was gone, he’d find some way to talk to Grace again.

This time he intended to get some answers.

Chapter Two

Two hours later, the screeching and sawing was still going on. At the moment the offender was a redhead she called Albert. He’d come in after a towheaded boy who couldn’t have been more than six years old had pulverized Jack’s eardrums as he’d attempted to grill pork chops outside.

By now Jack was beyond trying to think up some legitimate excuse to talk to the woman again. Hours of this agonizing noise had given him ample reason for another confrontation.

Grace was unaware anyone was around until she felt a tap on her shoulder. She whirled and her mouth formed a perfect O at the sight of his tall frame towering over her.

“Uh…what are you doing over here?” she asked bluntly.

Jack asked himself the same question. He was a stranger around here. An interloper. Someone who would only be here for a short time, whereas this was her home. He didn’t have a right to complain or question her.

Unless she was planning something detrimental to his nephew, he quickly reminded himself. And there was no way of knowing that without acquainting himself with the woman. But that didn’t mean he had to be nice about it. Which was a good thing, because at the moment Jack was feeling anything but nice.

His jaw tight, he asked, “What do you think I’m doing?”

Her brows disappeared beneath a fringe of black bangs. “I wouldn’t know,” she answered curtly.

Disbelief widened his gray eyes, then his lips twisted into a mocking line. “I’m sure you never once imagined you’ve been dealing me some misery.”

Quickly she glanced at Albert, who was still struggling with the G-scale. Then casting her gaze back on her unexpected visitor, she asked, “I beg your pardon?”

He snorted at her innocent response. “Do you realize the noise you’re making over here?”

The man needed kicking in the shins. But with Albert present, she did her best to curb the unladylike urge.

“Would you mind stepping over here?” she asked, gesturing to a grouping of redwood lawn furniture positioned several feet away from Albert. “I don’t want my student distracted.”

Before he could reply, she’d turned and left him standing with his hands in his pockets.

“Look, Miss Holliday,” he said after he’d followed her to the secluded area where several chairs and a table were shaded by an enormous live oak. “I didn’t come over here to sit and have a chat with you. All I want is for you—”

Jack’s words halted as his eyes fell past the full thrust of her breasts and on to the large rounded bulge of her midsection. He’d not been around many pregnant women in his life and the ones he had, he’d not found attractive. But this one—there was just something about her that left him feeling wet behind the ears.

“For me to do what, Mr. Barrett?” she prompted.

He heaved out a disgusted breath. Then biting back the words he really wanted to say, he said, “Last night I didn’t tell you, but I plan to be here for the next few days.”

He hadn’t really told her anything about himself last night, Grace thought. But then, she hadn’t exactly stuck around to ask him. She’d found the man more than disturbing and this evening the feeling hadn’t lessened—in fact, it had intensified.

She couldn’t be certain about his age, but he appeared to be somewhere around thirty-eight or forty. That prime age when a man just can’t look any better. And this man was definitely at his peak, Grace decided.

He had the lean, muscled body of an athlete. His rough-hewn features, coupled with his thick mane of hair and cool gray eyes made him one of the most striking men she’d ever seen in her life.

“Really? So you’ve bought the bungalow from Trent?”

It wasn’t like the boy to lie, Jack thought. At least, he didn’t think so. But then he had to remind himself the Trent he remembered being around had been a teenager. Maybe he’d changed since then. Or maybe this woman was subtly trying to draw information from Jack.

“The place belongs to me now,” he said evasively.

Once again he could see a shadow of disappointment cloud her green eyes.

“I see,” she said quietly. “So that means…”

“Means what?” he urged.

She shook her head, then forced a wan smile to her face. “Nothing.”

For the first time in his life Jack was at a loss for words, making him glad his associates weren’t around to see him. He’d tackled hundreds of hostile witnesses, wrangled words with some of the most formidable judges in the country and never lost his ability to lead the conversation to where he wanted it to go.

But with this woman, words failed him. All he could do was stare and think. And feel things he shouldn’t be feeling. What in the hell was the matter with him, anyway?

“Look, Miss Holliday, I came to Biloxi for some peace and quiet. I didn’t expect to find this.” He jerked his head backward toward Albert and his screeching instrument.

His clipped statement appeared to take her aback and for a moment Jack thought he saw a wounded look in her eyes, as though it pained her that he was being unfriendly. But, hell, that was a crazy notion. She didn’t even know him. It couldn’t matter to her whether he was Mr. Nice or a real jerk.

She folded her arms beneath her breasts. The movement made the mound of baby she was carrying even more evident to his gaze. “Surely Trent told you about me.”

His eyes narrowed. “What about you?” he asked carefully.

She frowned as though she considered his question inane. “That I was a music teacher, of course. And that you might encounter…well that some of the music might spill over onto your place from time to time.”

The idea that she called these boys’ squawking efforts “music” made him want to laugh out loud. But at the same time he’d been expecting her to come out with something much more personal about Trent. The fact that she hadn’t, disappointed Jack greatly. He was anxious to get to the truth. And even more eager to get away from this woman. She bothered him in ways he couldn’t begin to understand.

“Actually, he didn’t tell me anything. I…purchased the property through a Realtor,” he lied. “Yesterday was my first day to ever step foot on the place.”

Her expression said only a fool would buy a piece of property without looking at it first. And it dawned on him that she didn’t have any idea he had money to burn. The amount he’d paid for this little spot on the beach had been insignificant to him.

“Why?”

Jack frowned. “What do you mean, why?”

“Why did you buy this place without looking it over first?”

Impatient with her question and even more with himself because he found her so damned intriguing, he asked sharply, “Do you think that really concerns you?”

She took a seat on the edge of one of the chairs and crossed her sandaled feet. Jack’s gaze was instantly drawn to her toenails, which were painted a rich, lusty red. How the hell she managed to reach them, he didn’t know. But then, maybe she had a man who’d been glad to paint them for her. The idea grated on him far worse than the sound of Albert’s resined bow.

“No. It really doesn’t concern me at all, Mr. Barrett. Just as my music students don’t concern you.”

Slowly he folded his arms against his chest. “I’m sorry, but that’s where you’re wrong. And as for calling that—” he gestured back over his shoulder toward Albert “—‘music’, I think you need to have your ears tested.”

She cast him a too sweet smile. “If you’re bothered by the music, perhaps you should go inside.”

The grin he shot back at her was anything but sincere. “Why don’t you go inside?” he suggested.

Straightening her shoulders, she stared him in the eye. This man was way too arrogant for his own good, she decided. “For one, my air conditioner is not working. It’s hot inside. Two, I want to get the children accustomed to playing out of doors. Since they’ll be putting on an outdoor concert this fall for one of the local elementary schools.”

He snorted with mocking disbelief. “Concert! For the past two hours I haven’t heard one decent note from these kids!”

Her lips compressed to a flat line, she rose to her feet. “Will you kindly lower your voice? I don’t want Albert to hear you.”

“Well, I’ve been hearing him for the past thirty minutes. How much longer is this going to go on?”

Grace took in a long breath and let it out slowly as she tried to compose herself. Of course, anyone who wasn’t used to being around beginning music students, especially violin students, weren’t prepared for the noise, but this man didn’t have to be so rude and insensitive about it all.

“What do you do for a living, Mr. Barrett?”

“I’m a lawyer. What has that got to do with anything?”

It figured, Grace thought. He seemed awfully good at asking personal questions. “Did you go into the courtroom without training?”

He glowered and she quickly answered for him.

“Don’t bother telling me. We both know you had years of it. And even then you weren’t an expert. You had to learn. Just like Albert and the rest of my students. And if you do happen to stick around until this fall, I’ll show you what I mean.”

He’d angered her, Jack realized. Her breasts were heaving up and down in short spurts. The color along her angled cheekbones had deepened to the shade of rich wine. Sparks lit her green eyes and the odd thought struck Jack that he wished he were as alive as this woman standing in front of him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt as much passion as he saw on her face.

“I’m sure I won’t be here this fall, Miss Holliday. Like I told you earlier, I’m only staying…a few days.”

She studied him keenly, making Jack wonder what she saw when she looked at him. An old man? A pesky neighbor? Or was she looking at him in a more personal way?

Hell, Jack, since when did you ever care how a woman looked at you.

Not since his wife, and she’d divorced him years ago.

“What about your family? Are they not staying here with you, too?” she asked.

“No. I don’t have a family.”

“Oh.” The news left Grace feeling strangely warm and disturbed. At his age she’d expected him to have a family. If not with him, then tucked safely away somewhere. Now that she knew he didn’t have a wife or children, she felt even more threatened by his powerful presence. “I’m sorry,” she added.

He stopped short of releasing a mocking laugh. “Sorry? Look, this is the way I want to be. Free. Single. I’m as happy as a hog in a watermelon patch.”

From the looks of him, he’d never been that happy in his life, Grace thought. But then, the haggard lines on his face could be mostly from fatigue. Or anger at her for disturbing his peace and quiet.

“Miss Holliday, it’s seven-thirty. My mom is going to be waiting out front.”

Giving herself a mental shake, Grace glanced away from the man to see Albert climbing down from the step-chair where he’d been practicing his violin.

“Excuse me,” she said to Jack. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Jack started to tell her it was time for him to go, too. But he stopped himself short. He’d wanted an opportunity to talk to her. Now that she’d given him one, it would be foolish to pass it up.

Jack listened while she gave Albert instructions on what to practice through the coming week. Eventually the boy’s sheet music and instrument were packed away and with a gentle smile, she led him by the hand out of the backyard.

As Jack watched, he had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that she seemed good with children. Though he’d never had any kids himself, he could easily remember back to when he’d been Albert’s age. Francine, his mother, had been loud and high strung with hardly any time for her son or daughter. She’d never smiled or touched him with the tenderness Grace has just shown Albert. She’d liked her cocktails and the social life that went with being the wife of a highly successful corporate lawyer. She’d seen that Jack and Jillian had the material things they’d needed, but had never given either of them any emotional nurturing.

Francine, having divorced their father shortly before he’d died of a heart attack, had quickly married a wealthy financier on the west coast. Jillian still shed tears when she recalled how their mother had treated them through the years. As for Jack, he didn’t give a damn if he ever saw the woman again.

Pushing the dark thought aside, Jack hitched up his trousers and took a seat on one of the lawn chairs to wait for Grace’s return.

Five minutes passed with no sign of Grace. Jack was getting more than a little restless, wishing he’d held his temper and tongue. He knew from long experience that badgering a person who held information he wanted was not the way to go about business. Honey always caught more flies than vinegar. Trouble was, Jack had almost forgotten how to sweeten his words and still manage to sound sincere. He’d used to be damned good at it, but then, he’d used to want to be a lawyer, too.

“Sorry I was gone so long. But Albert’s mother likes to talk.”

He glanced up to see Grace walking toward him. Quickly he rose to his feet. “Look, Miss Holliday, this whole thing with your students…let’s just forget it. If you’ll be kind enough to let me know when they’ll be around, I’ll try to be gone. That way neither of us will be bothered.”

She searched his face, trying to decide if his olive branch was real. She must have decided he’d passed the test, because after a moment she smiled.

Her teeth were very white against her creamy skin and red lips. A faint dimple dented one of her cheeks and for the first time he noticed there was a tiny freckle just above the top line of her lip. She was perfectly beautiful. If Trent had been involved with her, Jack could certainly see why. Attraction was stirring deep in his gut, making him wonder if he’d gone suddenly crazy. She was pregnant and a good fifteen years or more his junior!

“Please, call me Grace,” she invited. “You’re not one of my violin pupils.”

Clearing his throat, he said, “All right, Grace.”

That he’d conceded to call her by her first name seemed to please her. Her green eyes softened and her lips continued to tilt upward in a provocative smile. “Would you like something to drink. Iced tea? Coffee?”

At the moment he could have used a good shot of Kentucky bourbon, but she didn’t look to be the drinking sort. Actually, if it wasn’t for her pregnant condition, she’d be the perfect sheltered Southern miss.

“It’s hot inside the house,” she went on before he could answer. “But I could bring the drinks out here.”

She sounded almost eager for his company, making the skeptical part of him wonder why. No doubt she had plenty of male friends her own age. Obviously she’d had one in particular.

“There’s no need for you to bother,” he told her. “I just had supper not long ago.”

“Oh, it’s no bother,” she assured him. “You wait here and I’ll be right back.”

Once again Jack took a seat in the lawn chair and as he waited for her to return with the drinks, he made a slow survey of the backyard.

Along with the deep shade offered by the trees, a vine-covered arbor sheltered the brick patio. Potted plants grew in abundance everywhere, lending splashes of bright color to the modest surroundings. From the looks of the house, it needed attention in several places. The paint was particularly weathered and faded from the incessant onslaught of salty sea breeze.

The neglected condition of the house made him wonder what her parents did for a living and why they hadn’t made an effort to do better. But Jack wasn’t going to be too quick to pass judgment on the people. For all he knew, Grace’s parents might be working their butts off to put several more children through high school or college.

Inside the house, Grace momentarily leaned against the kitchen cabinet counter and pressed a paper towel moistened with cold water against her forehead. She was so sick of being hot and tired. So weary of trying to keep putting one foot in front of the other when every inch of her body was screaming to rest.

She didn’t know why in the world she’d invited Jack Barrett to stay for a drink. It wasn’t as if he was a good friend or even a fond acquaintance. But he was her next-door neighbor. And long before he’d died, her grandfather had passed on his Southern upbringing to Grace. Elias would’ve considered it downright rude to not be neighborly and hospitable. Even to a stranger, who wasn’t so friendly himself, she thought grimly.

But she wasn’t going to be too quick to judge Jack Barrett, she promised herself. He might be dealing with a lot of personal problems at the moment. His curt attitude might be hiding a broken heart. He certainly had the look of a man who didn’t have much love in his life. And Grace definitely knew how dark and lonely that could make a person feel.