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“Yeah...Owen. It’s nice to see you again, Grace. How are you?”
“I’m starving right now.” She takes a whiff of what’s cooking. “I might just kill to get one of the first cheeseburgers off the grill.”
I can’t help but laugh because she looks as if she just might resort to violence, and I like a girl who likes cheeseburgers.
I gesture over to a table. “Get us some beers and I’ll take care of the chow.”
“Sounds like a plan. Pickles, red onion and extra cheese on that bad boy, ok?”
“You got it. I’ll be right back.”
I’m doing an internal version of shaking my head as I pile her burger high with fixings and then load both of our plates with sides. I’m a glutton for punishment. Her man is probably late to the party, that’s all, and now I’m going to get even closer to what I want just before the rug gets pulled out from underneath me. I decide that I’d rather get burned, though. Walking away right now just isn’t an option.
And when I get to the table, I’m rewarded by the sight of Grace settled into a chair with the towel now discarded and pooled around her hips. And that suit? Minimal coverage. I get glimpses of her hips, her belly and her tits. She is like a goddamn work of art. After making a mental note to stop gawking, I set our plates down and take the beer from her outstretched hand. Grace is smiling up at me, and I must be stupid or something because I’m thinking to myself that she’s got the best smile I’ve ever seen.
“This looks fantastic,” Grace says as she lifts the bun and squirts some ketchup on the burger.
I am seriously pathetic, watching as she opens her mouth wide and takes a bite, closing her eyes and damn near moaning as her head rolls back. I can’t look away. No, my eyes are glued to her the entire time like this show she’s putting on is some grade-A porn.
Her eyes flutter open and she smiles when she says, “I haven’t eaten all day. I had some coffee and that’s it.”
“I wake up starving.” I pause to take a bite and then nod because it is delicious. “I would have passed out by now if I were you. This is my third meal of the day.”
She looks amused when she says, “You wear it well. And just for the record, I usually do eat breakfast, but I was running around getting errands done this morning. AndmaybeI skipped because I ate more than just a few of the lemon bars I was baking last night for this party.”
“Lemon bars, huh? I’ll have to sample your goods later.”
“You do that, Owen.”
It’s flirty the way she says it, and when she lifts the burger up to her mouth for another bite, I notice she’s not wearing that rock on her left hand. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation. More reasonable than the crazy hopes I’m floating right now. I’m hoping that dog is long gone and forgotten. I’m hoping Grace is single and not nursing a broken heart. And if she’s even half as into me as I am into her, then I’m hoping—no—praying that I have a shot.
“So what’s your story, Grace?”
“My story?” When I nod, she takes a forkful of potato salad and looks off into the distance as she chews. A moment later she says, “Well, I just signed on to teach for another year even though I want to quit my job, I just broke off my engagement, and oh, today is my birthday. And I’m on my third drink, so I’m a little tipsy. That,” she tips her bottle to mine, “is my story.”
I want to fist pump the universe for answering my prayer, but I’m careful to school my expression. “Three drinks and you spill all your secrets? Good to know.”
“Oh no,” she shakes her head, “it would take a lot more than three drinks for me to spill the good stuff.”
“Want a soda or some water?”
“I’d love some water. Thanks.” And when I come back outside balancing two cups and two lemon bars, I see that Grace has cleaned her plate. “Do you want me to grab you another burger? There’s some chicken over there, too.”
“No, I’m stuffed. Oh, you found the lemon bars! You can have both of those, big guy.” She pats her flat belly. “I don’t think I have any room left.”
“Seriously? I was just about to stick a candle in one of them and singHappy Birthday.”
“I’d kill you.”
“Don’t like birthdays?”
She shakes her head. “It’s not that.” She looks over her shoulder to where Skylar and a few of the other women are setting up lunch for the kids. “Skylar and Sienna are like party planning ninjas. I’ve already opened my present and I’m sure I’m going to be ambushed later on with a cake, fireworks and God knows what else.”
“Sienna...There’s twins, right?” I shake my head. “Don’t even answer that dumb question. They look so much alike it’s freaky.”
Grace smiles. “They were a force to be reckoned with in high school.”
“That’s awesome. I haven’t been at it long enough to be friends with any of my former students, but I imagine it would be nice.”
