Mended Hearts (New Beginnings Series) (12 page)

“You have been, Luca. I appreciate it.” Mathias motioned for him to continue. He knew there was more to come.

Sonny squeezed his eyes shut. “I
am
really attracted to her.” He opened his eyes and gauged Mathias’ face for a reaction. There was none. “I would like for there to be more between us.” He paused again, wondering how much it was going to take for Mathias to say something . . . or shove him off the stool onto the peanut shell-covered wooden floor. He blew out a breath and decided to go for broke. “She’s beautiful, but there’s a lot more to her. She’s a lot stronger than she realizes . . . she’s funny . . . and caring. She’s still skittish, but I can see how hard she’s working at getting her feet back under her. I admire the hell of her. I’d like to be there to help her see how much she still has to offer. That someone could still make her happy. I want to be that someone.” There. He’d said it.

Mathias didn’t say anything for several moments, but Sonny was determined to wait him out, looking him dead in the eye.
He finally broke his silence. “Okay, Luca. Just don’t push her. Be patient.”

Sonny
let out a breath before he even realized he’d been holding it. “Really? That’s all you’re going to say? Not
‘keep your hands off my sister
?’”

Mathias smirked, “Well, that goes without saying. Of course you
should keep your hands off my sister.” His face sobered. “I trust you, Luca. I know you won’t do anything to hurt her—intentionally. Just . . . you really
do
need to be patient with her. It may take all the patience you have, but I think you could be the one to help her get back to living a normal, happy life. But really . . . don’t start anything if it’s just a distraction for you. If you’re not serious about her, don’t even go there. Promise me.”

“Of course, Mathias. I’d never want to hurt her. You can re
st ea . . .”

“Wow. This looks really serious.” Gracie had
walked up behind them and they both jumped guiltily. She looked at them suspiciously. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Of course not, Gracie. You have a paranoid mind,” Mathias reached over
and tweaked a strand of her hair.

“Yeah, right. You know
, you always do that when you feel guilty.”

“Do what?”

“Treat me like I’m six years old.” She gestured to where he was toying with her hair.

Mathias
looked pointedly at Sonny. “See what I mean? Paranoid mind,” he said. But he had dropped her hair like it was on fire.

Gracie looked pointedly at Sonny too. But he just raised his hands in surrender. “I have no idea what’s going on. I’m just sitting here enjoying my beer.” He made a show of taking a sip and raised his eyebrows at her. “Band done for the night?”

She shook her head. She had to give it to him—he was a better actor than her brother. She played along, sure she didn’t really want to know what they were talking about. Her ears were burning, so she already had an inkling. “Yeah. They told me I could head on out since it’s Matty’s last night here. They’ll tear down without me.”

The two men stood up and Mathias walked over to the stage to speak with the rest of the band and put a bug in Colby’s ear to keep an eye on Gracie too. She turned to roll her eyes at Sonny to find him watching her, a strange expression on his face. Before she could say anything, Mathias was back and the three of them headed out—Sonny for his place, and Gracie and Mathias for a late night/early morning breakfast at Denny’s, then back to her apartment. They had invited Sonny along, but he knew Mathias was leaving very early the next morning, so he decided to give
the siblings some time alone.

CHAPTER 8

Her phone had been buzzing like crazy all afternoon, but she ignored it until her break at three thirty.
When she got to the staff lounge, she scrolled through the missed calls. Meg. That was strange. When she’d seen Meg at the bar Friday night, they had exchanged phone numbers, but Gracie never really expected to hear from her. Here it was, only a few days later, and Meg was already trying to reach her. Relentlessly, it looked like. The messages were all the same . . .
so sorry to bother you
. . .
know you’re working
. . .
I really need you to call me right away
. . .
very important
. What could that be about? Gracie shrugged and hit the return call feature on her cell.

“Hello? Gracie?” Meg answered breathlessly. Gracie could hear music and voices in the background, a door
opening and closing, and then quiet. Meg must have been teaching a class, then stepped out into the hallway.

“Yes. Hi, Meg. Am I interrupting a class? I could call back later.”

“No, no. I was in class, but they’re fine without me for a minute. I’m so glad you called me back.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t
call sooner, but I’m just now on my break.”

“I understand.” Meg paused. “I’m really sorry to bother you at work, but I was wondering if you’d talked to Sonny since his first PT session this morning.”

“No. I thought I’d call and check on him after work.” Gracie was baffled. She would have thought Meg could reach him easier than Gracie could. They were good friends, after all. “Have you?”

“He’s not answering his phone.” An alarm bell went off in Gracie’s head. She was registering real panic in Meg’s voice. “Gracie, I’m just a little concerned.” A
little
concerned? “Kelli went by the physical therapy center this morning while he was there, to check on him and give him some encouragement. She works at the medical center—I don’t know if you knew that or not. Anyway . . . it wasn’t going well. He wasn’t getting much range of motion, and his frustration was really bad, I guess. She called me to let me know he left in a pretty bad state. I haven’t been able to reach him, and I thought maybe he would have called you if he wanted to talk. I guess not, though, huh?”

“No. I haven’t heard a word.”

“That’s not good. If he’s shutting down . . . and shutting us out . . . that’s just not good.” Meg sounded on the verge of tears. “It’s not like him at all. He’s usually the positive one . . . when things get bad. You know?”

“What should we do?” Gracie asked. When it came right down to it, she understood that Meg knew him better than she did.

“Well . . . I was going to drive over to his place when I got done here, but then I thought it might be better if you did.”

“
Me
?” Gracie gasped.

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“But . . . surely he’d rather see you if he’s upset. I know how close you are.”

Meg chuckled. “Believe me, Gracie. He’d rather see you than me.
Look, I know I don’t know you well, but . . . he likes you a lot. You mean something to him. I don’t know what that is yet, and he probably doesn’t either, but I think you could help him through this. Will you try?”

“Sure. Okay . . . I’ll go over as soon as I can.” It’s the least she could do, she thought, after he’d been there for her so much lately. Could it be true that she might be important to him? “What if he won’t let me in . . . or I don’t know what to do?” she asked uncertainly.

“Don’t worry, honey. Just call me and we’ll get reinforcements and bust our way in.”

“Alright.”

“Will you call me anyway, Gracie? Let me know what’s going on?”

“Of course. I’ll stay in touch.”

“Thanks. I’m so glad you’re here for him.”

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Because it was Monday, Gracie didn’t have to worry about ditching band practice, and when she talked to her supervisor at the daycare center, they were happy to let her leave an hour and a half early. She rushed to a nearby grocery store and raised eyebrows as she practically sprinted through the store flinging ingredients into her cart.

She got home, threw on
a pair of navy blue yoga pants and a pale blue lightweight pullover hoodie. She threw her hair up in a messy ponytail, pushed her sleeves up, ran back to her teeny kitchen and started chopping lamb, green onions, garlic and tomatoes. After cooking everything in the correct order—as she remembered it—and it was all tossed into a pot, she covered it, slung her bag over her shoulder and lifted the pot with potholders.

Gracie
arrived at Sonny’s place about thirty minutes later—because of rush hour. She’d decided not to call first, since she knew he was avoiding the phone. She grabbed the pot with her potholders and headed toward the building. Mrs. Farrady found her struggling to open the front door and let her in.

“Ooh, that smells good,” she exclaimed.

Gracie tossed her a smile. “Thanks.” She headed up the stairs and knocked on his door. No answer. She knocked again and had about decided to call Meg for reinforcements when she heard Mrs. Farraday clomping up the stairs behind her.

“I know he’s in, hon. He’s been there all day.” She barreled past Gracie and banged on the door. “Luca! You’ve got company
!”

Gracie guessed no one denied Mrs. Farraday,
as the door swung open. He looked terrible and just stood there looking at her—not happy at all to see her. Mrs. Farraday herded Gracie into the apartment and, just as she started to close the door behind her, met Gracie’s eyes. Gracie knew then that the landlady was just as concerned as everyone else was. God bless her.

She looked at Sonny and he still
said nothing. “Well! You’re alive after all. Is your phone not working?” She bustled around the corner into his kitchen and turned on the oven.

He followed her in. “What’re you doing, Gracie?” Finally. His voice sounded a little raw, but at least he was using it.

“I’m putting the
stufat de miel
in the oven.” She reached over to set the oven timer. “It’ll be ready in about an hour, I think.”

He looked confused. “
Stufat de miel
?”

“Yes . . . stew . . . lamb, onion, garlic . . .”

“I know what
stufat de miel
is, Gracie,” he said wearily.

“Of course you do.
It’s a Romanian dish your grandmother taught my mom how to make. And Mom taught me.” She brushed her hands off after she slid the pot into the oven and turned to face him. She looked at him with concern. “What’s goin’ on, Luca? You almost had every SEAL wife in Coronado over here to break down your door.”

“So they sent you?”

“So it would seem. But I would’ve come over anyway, when you ignored
my
calls too.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have ignored
your
calls.” He moved close—crowding her—and reached up to touch her face, looking more dangerous than she had ever seen him.

She looked
up at him shrewdly. “I know what this is.”

He dropped his hand
to his side. “What are you talking about?”

“You think if you flirt with me
—come on to me—it’ll scare me off and I’ll leave.” She glared at him. “Not gonna work.”

“Found your backbone, did ya?”

“You can get as nasty as you want to, Luca, but I’m not leaving.” She sighed, “Did you scare off when I blubbered all over you last week? It’s my turn to be
your
friend.”

His eyes softened as he ran his hands down his face. “I’m sorry. I’m being a real ass.” He turned and dropped into a chair
, his crutches clattering to the floor. “That does smell really good. Smells like home.”

She sat beside him. “Have you eaten today?”

“No.”

“That’s not good.”

“I know,” he was starting to look ashamed of himself. “Been too busy wallowing.”

“How much have you wallowed since you were injured, Luca?” She
was sure she knew the answer.

He smiled sadly. “What time is it?” He looked at his watch. “Left the hospital at ten this morning, so . . .
almost eight hours of wallowing, I guess.”

Gracie nodded. “Feel better?”

“Not really.”

“Well . . . I vote we wallow for the rest of the evening. Together. Then tomorrow, we’ll pull ourselves up by our bootstraps and keep going.”

“We?”

“Yes,
we
.” She laid her hand over his on the table. “Did you really think it was going to be easy, Luca?”

“I didn’t expect to have
no
range of motion. I thought I’d have
some
strength left.” He stared into her eyes, searching for something. “There’s nothing there, Gracie.”

She refused to give him the pity he was expecting to see in her eyes. “Well, what did the therapist have to say?”

“He said it was too soon to tell. Sometimes it never fully comes back, but sometimes you get more than you expect.”

“He must have mentioned something about how your attitude
makes a difference,” she prodded.