“Grace?”
She shot up so quickly that she knocked over her easel with her foot and sent her paint supplies skittering across the rocky ground. And to make things even better, Jaime himself stood in front of her, looking rumpled and delicious. She hated him on sight. He needed to go away already and let her live her life. Dammit, now her paintbrush was soaked in river water and river goop and some of her paint had spilled, too.
Jaime crouched down to help her. “Sorry if I scared you. Were you painting?”
It was a dumb question, and Grace knew that Jaime knew it was a dumb question. But she was too agitated to care. She also didn’t want him to see her sad excuse for a Bob Ross landscape painting. “I was trying to,” she muttered, tossing her supplies into her bag without looking at them. “But nothing seems to stick.”
Jaime glanced at her painting. “That’s pretty.”
But she could hear in his voice that what he really meant was, That’s boring. She almost laughed. “It’s terrible, and you know it.” She finally gave up and sat back, wiping her hands of some of the dirt and eventually giving up.
He sat down beside her. “Well, I wouldn’t say it was terrible, but it’s not…”
“Interesting? It’s okay. It looks like a hotel painting.”
Jaime cocked his head, peering at the painting more closely. Then he laughed a little. “It does look like a hotel painting. What makes a painting look like a hotel painting, though? Like is there some secret hotel painting store all hotels buy them from?”
“There’s probably a shop on Etsy,” Grace said dryly.
Jaime laughed again.
Despite herself, she felt her mood lighten somewhat. She’d be a liar if she said she didn’t enjoy being in Jaime’s company. They hadn’t been alone—really alone—since the wedding. Her face burned at the memory. She stared at the ground, but then she caught sight of his hands, and she remembered how they’d felt pressed against her back.
She looked away and forced herself to stare at the river instead.
“Do you come here a lot?” Jaime asked. “I just found this spot recently, but if you’ve claimed it, I can find another one.”
She shrugged. “I’ve come here since I was little, but it’s not like I own this patch of the river.”
I also don’t want you to leave. I know you’ve been avoiding me, and I hate it, she thought.
“Well, if you’re sure.”
After that, silence fell. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but Grace wondered if Jaime wanted some time alone. She glanced at him, and she saw that his jaw was tense. He looked tired, and there were circles underneath his dark eyes. Had he not been sleeping? She knew River’s Bend needed a lot of work lately, but this seemed different.
She almost asked him what was wrong, but then she thought better of it. She didn’t have a right to pry: they weren’t even friends, per se, but more like people who ran into each other often. She wrapped her arms around her knees, suddenly feeling the chill again. Maybe she should leave and go home.
“Are you cold? Here, take my jacket.”
Jaime shrugged off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders. The jacket was big enough that it was almost like a blanket on top of her, and she inhaled his scent emanating from the cloth. As he placed the jacket on her shoulders, his hands stayed on her upper arms—perhaps longer than necessary.
But then he moved away, and Grace wondered if she’d just been imagining things.
“Thank you,” she murmured. She saw that he only wore a t-shirt now, and she knew how much he hated the cold. “Aren’t you going to be cold?”
“I’ll be fine. I need to walk back home anyway.”
She pulled the jacket closer, her eyes closing. It smelled like spice and cedar and Jaime’s warmth seeped into her limbs until she wanted to cry from the exquisite sensation. She wanted to imagine that this was as close to him embracing her as she was going to get, and it broke her heart and made it pound at the same time.
“I guess you’re always keeping me safe from the weather,” Grace said. When he just looked at her, she blushed. “Never mind,” she muttered.
Jaime looked like he wanted to ask what she meant, but he didn’t.
She just smiled, her heart cracking a little. She wondered if he even remembered that moment—that moment when he’d smiled at her and held his umbrella over her head while he got soaked to the skin—and she’d fallen in love with him. She wanted to cry at the thought, but it was just too indicative of her life right now: a whole host of small misses that added up until they felt like they were suffocating her.
She heard a phone sound then, and she watched as Jaime took out his phone and then grimaced at what he read. He muttered something in Spanish that sounded like a very complicated and long-winded curse.
Grace couldn’t help it. “Is something wrong?” she asked. She probably couldn’t do anything to help, but at least it would get her mind off of her own problems.
Jaime looked up at her, as if he’d forgotten she were there. Then he shook his head. “No, just some stupid shit with the vineyard. Actually, it’s more complicated than that. Your brother wants to talk to me.”
She just stared at him, waiting for him to explain. When he refused to talk, she said quietly, “Anything you say won’t go beyond this spot. Not a word to my brother, or anyone else.” She held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
He smiled a little. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but then again, you’re going to find out anyway. There’s money missing from the vineyard.”
“What?” Her eyes widened. “Who would steal from River’s Bend? It barely has any money to steal right now!”
“Ironic, right? But you haven’t heard the best part.”
“Is there a best part when someone’s stealing money from my family’s business?”
“According to your brother, the prime suspect is none other than me.”
Grace stared at him. She thought at first he was joking—how could anyone think Jaime would steal from River’s Bend? When he’d poured so much of himself into the restaurant? She said nothing, waiting for the “just kidding!”, but it never came.
“You’re not serious? You? You? Has my brother lost his mind?” She got so agitated that Jaime’s jacket slipped off, and she was about to get up and find Adam when Jaime put a hand on her arm. That got her to sit back down.
“He doesn’t want to believe it, but there’s evidence that says otherwise. I guess.” He scowled, tossing some rocks into the river. “It’s bullshit, of course, but I have to go through the motions anyway, because if I refuse to talk, I’ll look guilty, won’t I?”
“But how does anyone know it was you? Or think that it could be you?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Your brother just told me last night, or I guess, warned me. But there’s money definitely missing, so they’re starting an investigation.”
“Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?” Grace pulled the jacket closer, clenching her fists until she realized she was probably wrinkling the material. “That doesn’t seem fair at all.”