Devlin's Grace (5 page)

“I
work ten until eight tomorrow,” she told Devlin. “Why?”

He
shrugged. “I’m heading down to Eureka Springs just for kicks.
 
I thought you might like it.”

Images
of the small Victorian city sprawling across the mountains in northwest
Arkansas filled her mind.
 
Gracie visited
once, on a high school field trip to see the Christ of the Ozarks.
 
She adored the charm of the place.
 
Every narrow street featured vintage houses
both large and small.
 
The downtown
district appeared to have dropped from the sky intact from another
century.
 
Eclectic shops lined the narrow
streets selling everything from homemade fudge to tourist fripperies.
 
Gracie’s dream was to return without the
supervision of a field trip and crotchety teacher.
 
Going with Devlin would be an awesome
experience.

“I
wish I could go,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve been there only once, but I loved
it.”

“So,
come with me.”

“I
have to work.”

Some
fire in his eyes burned hot enough to temper dark brown a shade lighter. “So
call in sick and go anyway.”

Temptation
hung in the air so powerful Gracie could almost see it, touch it.
 
Raised to do right, to work hard, and to
never yield to wicked enticements, she’d have to refuse no matter how much she
regretted it.
 
I’m starting to understand why someone might call him Devil
,
she mused.
 

As
she hesitated, some of the light vanished from his eyes and a mocking smirk
twitched his lips.
 
He must have anticipated
a flat refusal and despite his stoic mask, she thought it’d hurt his
feelings.
 
Some inner instinct told her
he didn’t invite many people to get so close.
 
More to avoid disappointing him than anything else, Gracie detoured
caution and said, “All right, I will.
 
I
really want to go.”

Devlin
rewarded her with a smile, a large enough one to smooth some of his worry lines
away. “Good.
 
Let’s go.
 
I’ll take you home and you can get some
sleep.
 
I’ll pick you up around eight or
so, unless it’s too early.”

“It’s
great. I always get up early,” Gracie said. “I’ll call the store tonight and
leave a message.”

He
tossed down a handful of dollar bills for a tip and paid the check.
 
Gracie downed the last of her Coke and
followed him out to the motorcycle.
 
Without waiting for his prompt, she put on the helmet and as soon as
Devlin was in place, she climbed behind him.
 
Riding with him grew easier each time she did.
 
Her fear lessened and she became more
confident.
  

In
front of her apartment, Dev dismounted while she fiddled with the helmet.
  
Gracie debated on whether or not she should
ask him up but decided against it.
 
They’d be going on their little trip tomorrow anyway.

“Thanks
again,” she said after Dev secured her helmet in the compartment.

“For what?”

“The ride, the meal, and for
tomorrow.”

Laughter
burst from his throat, low and guttural.
 
“I thought maybe you were thanking me in advance for this,” he said and
caught her in his arms.
 
Devlin kissed
her, slow and unhurried, but with the smoky heat of good barbecue.
 
His lips tasted of the meal they’d shared,
but his embrace evoked pure masculinity.
 
She inhaled his aroma, a rich blend of soap, musk cologne, and something
she couldn’t define.
 

Gracie
enjoyed the way she felt with his arms locked around her, safe and somehow
worthwhile.
 
She appreciated his kisses,
too.
 
His boldness fired hers.
 
If most guys took such liberties, she’d fuss,
but Devlin made it seem right.

This
time, after the kiss, he didn’t release her immediately, but held her tight for
another minute.
 
Through the black
T-shirt he wore, her hands caressed some of his scars, the ridges rough beneath
her fingers.
 
Her head rested against his
chest where she felt the rise and fall of each breath.
 
She heard the steady thump of his heart,
too.
 

When
he released her, he cupped one hand to her cheek. “See you in the morning,
babe.”

“See
if you can get some sleep, Devlin,” she said.

He
nodded. “I’ll try.
 
Go on upstairs. I’ll
wait until I see your lights before I go.”

“Thanks.”
She wanted to say something more, find words to express how much she cared for
him, but Gracie couldn’t.
 
She didn’t
know how to begin to explain the attraction or the depth of emotion.
 
She hadn’t known him a week yet so it seemed
strange, even impossible, but no matter how she tried, she couldn’t deny it.

As
she mounted the stairs, she resisted the urge to turn around to see if he
remained.
 
Once inside her place,
however, Gracie walked to the window to peer out before she turned on the
lamp.
 
Devlin stood, straight as a
sentinel, beside his motorcycle, face tilted up toward her windows.
 
If she waited too long, she didn’t doubt he’d
charge up the stairs to see if everything was okay.
 
She switched on the lights and waved.
 
Moments later, she heard the bike’s engine
and listened as it moved away into the night.

She
checked the clock.
 
It was just a little
after one and she wasn’t sleepy at all.
 
Before she chickened out, she called Barnes and Noble, left a message
for her supervisor.
 
Lying didn’t come
naturally to her and she stammered as she said, “Hi, it’s Gracie Alloway.
 
I have to call in for tomorrow, well,
today.
 
Well, for Saturday.
 
I can’t make it, but I’ll be there
Sunday.
 
Thanks.”

Most
people would’ve claimed a migraine or stomach upset, but she didn’t.
 
If Clarissa didn’t like it, she’d try to
explain.
 
There shouldn’t be any problems
unless the store manager didn’t like her absence, but unless Clarissa told him,
he should never know.
 

Until
now, her priorities were simple.
 
Finishing her degree and graduating ranked first.
 
Maintaining her GPA for the scholarship
almost tied with it. Her job at Barnes and Noble came in a close third.
 
Behind those, her family – her elderly
parents and her middle-aged sister trailed.
 
Two brothers fit in between Gracie and her sister, too.

Now,
however, Devlin fit somewhere into the mix, but she wasn’t sure quite
where.
 
He wasn’t last, however, and the
realization stunned her.
 
If it came down
to getting to know Devlin better or keeping her job, she’d choose him.
  
Other jobs were around if she bothered to
hunt for them, but she’d never known another man quite like Devlin.
 
Gracie hadn’t ever felt such a powerful pull,
a moon to tides kind of thing.

With
the task out of the way, Gracie eased off her shoes.
 
She winced when she touched the sore spot on
her heel, but reflected how much worse it’d been if Devlin didn’t offer a
ride.
 
After she patched it up with a few
adhesive bandages, she went to bed, but it was a long time until she
slept.
 

Her
mind burst with mental snapshots of Devlin, and she could still smell his
essence.
 
When she lifted her hands to
her face, she inhaled his scent.
 
After
falling into a deep sleep, she dreamed.
 
Devlin filled her subconscious, but some of her dreams bordered on
nightmares.
 
In one, she saw a copperhead
stretched out across a dresser top, its pattern lighter than most, but when it
tried to slither away, she caught it with a broomstick and held it in
place.
 
When it attempted to strike her,
Devlin dispatched it without blinking an eye.

Gracie
woke, heart pounding with fear to calm as she realized the snake didn’t exist
anywhere but in dream country.
 
Even
there, however, Devlin became her guardian angel and saved her.
 
Comforted by the thought, she went back to
sleep but rose early, eager to begin the day.

After
a makeshift shower with the hose apparatus she attached to the bathtub faucet,
Gracie sorted through her meager wardrobe.
 
With no clue what to wear on a trip to Eureka Springs and few choices,
she rejected the skirts.
  
She settled on
her best black jeans with a button down blouse, white with tiny lilac blossoms
scattered across it, and thick socks to protect her sore heel.
 
Gracie laced up her best athletic shoes and
wished she owned a pair of decent boots.
 
She brushed her hair out smooth then secured it into a knot with a hair
clip.
 
Otherwise, between the helmet and
the long ride, her hair would be a tangled mess by the time they reached Eureka
Springs.

If
she had Devlin’s phone number, she could’ve invited him to breakfast, but since
she didn’t. She had to wait.
 
Just after
seven, dressed and ready, Gracie sat down with a cup of coffee.
 
Someone rapped at the door, firm but without
force.
 
She peered through the tiny
peephole and saw Devlin.

“Good
morning,” she said as she opened the door to him. “I was going to call you and
ask you to breakfast, but I didn’t have your phone number.”

Devlin
beamed at her and she noticed the sweet fragrance wafting from the bag in his
hand.
 
Gracie grinned back. “Oh,” she
said, “You brought donuts.”

“No,”
he returned. “I brought
St. George’s
donuts
.
 
And I don’t have a phone, babe. Are you going to let me in?”

His
direct manner brought heat to her cheeks, but she nodded. “Sure. I’ve got
coffee made.”

“Good,
I hoped so.”

Devlin
strode through the living room and into the kitchen.
 
Without asking, he picked up a cup from the
drainer – the one he’d used Monday night – and poured a cup from the
percolator.
 
He gestured to the bag of
donuts. “Go ahead, get one.”

“Thanks.”
Gracie sat down at the dinette table for two and took a bite of warm
perfection. “Oh, it’s good.
 
Thanks,
Devlin.”

“You’re
welcome,” he said. “I figured you were going to eat a half a piece of toast or
something.
 
It’s selfish of me.
 
I just didn’t want you fainting on the way
down.”

Adding
mind reader to her mental catalog of his talents, Gracie refused to admit she’d
been about to make toast in her rummage sale toaster, the one toasting just one
side of bread.

“I
wouldn’t faint,” she protested. “Why don’t you have a cell phone?”

“I
don’t have any phone at all.” Devlin helped himself to a second donut.
 
“I don’t have anyone to call, babe.”

Curiosity
killed the cat and it might damn her, but she asked anyway, “Don’t you have any
family?”

Devlin
shook his head. “No.
 
My dad was a Marine
too and died in Beirut in 1983 when I was two, and my mom died three years
after I got home from Iraq.
 
Cancer ate
her up faster than a brushfire.
 
My
grandparents are all gone.
 
I guess I
still have cousins, a few aunts and uncles around somewhere, but except for one
cousin, I haven’t seen them in years.
 
If
my job needs to call, they get ahold of my landlord.
  
And before you ask, yeah, I’m from
Springfield.”

His
mild tone took the sting out of what otherwise might have been harsh words, but
she felt scolded anyway.
 
Eyes down, she
said, “I’m sorry for asking, Devlin.
 
It’s not my business.”

“Hey.”
His voice shifted to somewhere near tender.
 
He reached across the table and raised her face so he could look into
her eyes. “No apology needed.
 
I’m not
mad you asked if that’s what you think.”

“You’re
not?”

“Hell,
no, I’m not.
 
Christ, girl, I don’t
offend easy.
 
I gave you the information
you wanted, plain and simple.
 
Just
another thing the Marines taught me.”

Relief
blasted her momentary discomfort into nothing. “I’ll try to keep it in mind.”