Falling For Grace

Only a very short time passed before she reappeared carrying a tray with a tall pitcher and two tumblers filled with crushed ice. As she placed the tray on a small table between them and began to pour the tea, Jack felt a pang of uneasiness, even guilt.

He couldn’t believe she was offering him traditional Southern hospitality after the way he’d talked about her music pupils. But then, she could easily have an ulterior motive for being nice to him, just as he had for wanting to talk to her.

“You shouldn’t have gone to this much trouble. Not for me,” he said, wondering why the hell his conscious had suddenly decided to show its face after all these years.

She handed him one of the glasses, then gestured to the tray. “There’s sugar and lemon, if you like. As for the trouble, I have a motive for keeping you here with a drink.”

Jack’s hand paused in midair as he reached for a lemon wedge. “Oh,” he said guardedly. “What is it?”

“Well, I hope you won’t be offended, but—”

This brought his head up and his gaze connected with hers. A sheepish little smile was on her lips and he feared he was about to learn the true side of Grace Holliday.

“But what?” he pressed.

She shrugged, then let out a sigh. “I guess I might as well not be bashful about it,” she said. “Especially now that I have you here.”

His brows lifted with curiosity, but otherwise he remained quiet. Inside his chest, his heart beat with sluggish dread as he waited for her to continue.

Eventually she spoke. “After you said what you did a while ago about not having family and being here alone, I thought maybe…well, that I might do a little work for you while you’re here.”

Her suggestion jerked him straight up in the chair. Work! Was she crazy?

“Look, Grace, I don’t know what sort of work you have in mind, but I came down here to Biloxi to get out of the office. I only brought one lengthy brief with me and I can manage to type up my own notes.”

She tilted her head back and laughed. Jack was too busy taking in the smooth slender line of her neck and the musical sound slipping past her lips to be insulted by her response.

“I don’t mean legal work! Good Lord, I don’t know a thing about the law. I was talking about cleaning your house. Or maybe doing your cooking or laundry. Any chore of that sort which you might not want to tend to yourself.”

House-cleaning, cooking and laundry, in her condition? It was obscene, as far as Jack was concerned. His feelings must have shown on his face because as she continued to look at him, disappointment fell over her soft features.

“Grace, you obviously have a job with your music pupils. Surely your parents don’t want you taking on more. Especially in your shape.”

Her brows pulled together as a look of total confusion filled her face. “‘My parents’?” she repeated blankly. “Jack, I don’t have any parents. I live here alone.”

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