AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I bet your mom was pissed that you weren’t meeting up with them, wasn’t she?”
“I spoke to her after I’d snuck out of the hotel and right into a cab.” Which, funnily enough, were plentiful today. “I told her I was sick and in no state to join them.” By that point, they’d all been at breakfast – her parents and Irish. So she’d asked the driver to take her to a diner twenty minutes away and messaged Ella to meet her here.
It had taken some persuading to get her mom and dad to leave New York and head home without her but somehow she managed. She was a grown up, after all. She’d lived in a different country since she was twenty-one. Renting a car and driving to West Virginia wasn’t exactly brain surgery.
“And what if he’s there?”
“In Hartson’s Creek?” Grace clarified, then shook her head. “He won’t be. He’s flying to London tonight. He won’t be back soon.”
“He might if he knows you’re there.”
“He’ll never know. He only lived in Hartson’s Creek for a few years before he went off to college. When I asked him about home, he said it was Missouri.” She was pretty sure that avoiding him wouldn’t be a problem. It hadn’t been for the last twenty-five years of her life.
“You’d better hope there are no weddings in your family for the foreseeable future,” Ella said.
Grace rolled her eyes. “Have you met my cousins? Not a single one of them is anywhere close to a relationship, let alone getting married.”
The server refilled her coffee and Ella sipped at it gratefully. “Actually, I have met one of your cousins,” she pointed out. “And he’s hot.”
“Shut up and drink your coffee.”
Ella smirked. “Yes, ma’am.”
ChapterFour
A Year Later…
For as long as Grace could remember, in their little town of Hartson’s Creek, Friday nights meantChairs.It was the evening when residents would get together at the field beside the water, bringing their own chairs, along with food and drink, and settle down to gossip for the night. From April to September, if the weather was fine, that’s where you’d find them.
And right now Grace was running late for it.
She’d been back home for a year. Had already gotten used to the old weather worn Victorian houses with their long lawns and wide roads. France seemed like a blip in her past.
And so did New York. When she allowed herself to think about it, which wasn’t often.
She climbed out of her car and rapped on the door of a double story house with a cupola she used to adore as a kid.
Her Great Aunt Gina opened it right away, as though she’d been standing there waiting for a while.
Grace grimaced. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
Gina was her mom’s aunt, but really she’d been more of a mother to Grace’s mom and her brothers growing up. And she was definitely a grandmotherly type to Grace. Which was why she’d volunteered to pick the older woman up on her way from work to the creek.
And why she felt so bad for being twenty minutes later than planned.
“No need to apologize,” Aunt Gina said. She was looking smart in a pair of red slacks and a white sweater, her gray hair swept into its usual bun. She was almost ninety, but could still walk without help. Though Grace grabbed her chair and the cookies she’d made and carried them to the car.
It was a short drive from Gina’s house – the house Grace’s mom had grown up in – to the fields by the creek, and there were already people everywhere. The sun was setting, turning the water orange as kids played flag football and the old folk sat in circles, sharing gossip. Aunt Gina walked over to them and Grace followed, setting up Gina’s chair and getting her settled, before greeting her aunt’s friends and making small talk.
Taking her leave of the older women, Grace spotted a group of her cousins laughing and holding beers. There were a lot of them – Grace’s mom was one of five siblings, and they all had children of their own. Her eldest cousin – Presley – beckoned her over, and she nodded, but before she could join him, she saw her mom approaching.
“Hey sweetheart.” Her mom opened her arms to her, and Grace hugged her tight. “Were you working late again?”
“Something like that,” Grace told her. They worked together at the G. Scott Carter distillery and the crisis Grace had solved could wait until Monday to discuss. Right now, she just wanted to relax and have fun.
God knew she needed that.
She’d thrown herself into work since her return from New York. She’d also changed her cell number – giving her family an excuse about not wanting to talk with Pascal – and promised herself that she wouldn’t pine for the man who’d set her on fire.
