“Graciela, Graciela, you drive me insane,” he muttered against her neck. He licked her throat, nipped at her collarbone. She didn’t want him to stop touching her. She never wanted to leave his house, his lap, she never wanted to be without him.
But his kisses began to ease, and he eventually stopped, gazing at her.
“It’s late,” he said.
She picked up her phone from the coffee table and saw that it was close to three o’clock in the morning. She needed to get home before her parents realized she was gone. She was an adult, but being under their roof blurred the lines, too.
Standing up, she went to the bathroom to rinse off her hands before putting on her coat and boots. Looking out, she saw there was a decent amount of snow on her car, even though it had stopped snowing when she’d arrived.
“I’ll drive you home,” Jaime said.
She smiled, shaking her head. “And leave my car here? I’ll be okay.”
“Let me at least help you get the snow off.”
After brushing off the powdery snow, Jaime stood outside her car door, as if he didn’t want to say goodbye. Grace didn’t know what to say. Did she say thank you? I’ll see you soon? But then he leaned down, kissed her, and told her good night and to text him when she got home. She nodded.
She drove slowly, mostly because her mind wouldn’t stop going over every detail of that night, but also because the roads were rather slick with snow. She finally got home twenty minutes later, making sure to turn off her headlights before parking her car so she wouldn’t alert her parents. It was silly—she had a right to go where she wanted—but she didn’t want a lecture, either.
After quietly entering, not turning on a light, she almost jumped out of her skin when she heard a voice in the living room say, “Grace?”
She edged into the room, seeing her father sitting on the couch. He looked like he’d been waiting for her. She unwound her scarf from her neck. “What are you doing up?” she asked, feeling stupid for feeling like she was caught red-handed.
“I’d like to ask the same of you,” he said, shutting the book he’d been reading. “Where were you tonight?”
As she placed her coat in the hall closet and took off her boots, she found herself bristling at his question. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business. I’m going to bed,” she replied, turning to go upstairs.
“It is my business when your mother and I are paying your bills and providing you with a roof over your head.” He didn’t get up, but his voice stopped her from going to her bedroom. “You have no leg to stand on, young lady.”
Grace gritted her teeth. She entered the living room, her arms crossed. “I’m not some teenager. I’m an adult. I can go where I please.”
“Yes, you can. You can do whatever you want. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to say anything about it. When are you going to get your act together? Sneaking out at all hours of the night while working at a dead-end job at a diner? Is this the kind of life you want?”
She hugged herself, feeling exhaustion swamp her limbs. Did her father have to constantly remind her how much of a failure she was? “I’m sorry I kept you up,” she said in a quiet voice. “I’m going to sleep.”
“You didn’t answer my question: what are you doing with your life, Grace?”
She dug her fingers into her back. The ultimate question, and one she couldn't answer. All of the pleasure, the joy of the past few hours evaporated. Biting the inside of her cheek, she replied, “Good night, Dad.”
She hurried upstairs, closing her door and locking it, like she could keep out her father’s questions. Everything collided until she felt tears falling down her cheeks: Jaime’s kisses, his touch, how much she’d wanted him. How she felt lost and useless and confused about her life in general. How she wanted to paint but couldn’t even manage that anymore.
She wiped at the tears, collapsing onto her bed. She inhaled her shirt, smelling Jaime on it. It calmed her. The knot in her belly unraveled a little.
Even if she couldn’t get her life in order, she thought, she could help Jaime get his back. She could find evidence that he was innocent. She could help him—she knew she could. She imagined his face when she told him this, and it allowed her to fall asleep, her heart not as heavy as it would’ve been otherwise.
Chapter Twelve
Despite the investigation, River’s Bend ran as it ever did. Now approaching Christmas, Jaime and the staff prepared their holiday menu, which generally brought in a decent amount of revenue before the close of the year. He worked with Adam on what to serve, ordered the necessary food, and showed his interns and chefs new techniques and recipes. Even Eric seemed somewhat engaged, although Jaime didn’t expect that would last very long.
Showing his staff how to make the best rack of lamb one afternoon, Jaime found himself in a better mood than he had in ages. Mostly because he couldn’t stop thinking about Grace or what had happened in his house just a few days prior. He knew he should feel guilty about it. He’d told himself he wouldn’t get involved with her further, that it would only result in difficulties for him at work.
But his cheery mood wouldn't let him be plagued by guilt and doubts. For now, he was going to enjoy this small bit of happiness, especially since the investigation had yet to be resolved.
After letting the rack of lamb rest for a few minutes, he gathered his staff around him to show them how it should look. “You want it as rare as you can manage it,” he said, cutting between each bone, showing them the dark pink centers. “Overcooked lamb is a terrible thing.”
Everyone oohed looking at the lamb, juicy and smelling heavenly. Jaime placed each piece on a plate and let them eat it with the mint chutney he’d prepared along with it.
“When you’re finished,” he said, looking at all of them, “I want you to pair up into groups of threes to prepare your own lamb. I’d let you each cook your own, but we can’t really afford it right now.” He smiled wryly. “Be sure you don’t mess up, otherwise Adam will have my neck for wasting food.”
Watching his staff get to work, first scoring the fat on the lamb before searing it in hot olive oil, Jaime could only hope against hope that he wouldn’t have to leave this place. That the investigation would lead away from him and he could move on with his life. When he’d first arrived at River’s Bend five years ago, he had never expected it would burrow into his heart like it had. But it had become home, and the people here had become like family. The Danvers in particular—Adam, his parents. Grace.
Jaime swallowed. He never would have thought Grace Danvers would’ve taken hold of him like she had. When he’d first met her, she’d been a shy kid, fresh out of high school. She’d barely said two words to him before she’d left for college. Now everything had changed.
Realizing he needed to tell Kerry to order some supplies, he left the kitchen to stop by her desk. “I know we aren’t swimming in cash at the moment,” he said, “but I also can’t run a kitchen without basic things like olive oil and aluminum foil.”
She nodded, making a note on a Post-it. “You got it. I’ll get approval from Adam and get it ordered. Although it might have to be the cheaper olive oil, sorry to say.”