Inside the large house just a walk away from the waterfront in Beaufort, Grace packed up her books and loose papers in preparation for company. She stored them neatly in plastic bins and labeled each one.
Looking around the guest room, which was once her mothers’ room, she felt inspired like she always did. The problem was putting that inspiration on paper. The window allowed a view of the backyard along with the trees holding an old hammock between them. Her mother would read her father's old love letters as she swung in the original hammock.
He died when she was seven, and many hammocks have swung there since then. Her mother enjoyed their time there, reading, writing, and sharing thoughts with her daughter. Grace spent a lot of time in that hammock.
Her mother was so full of life, passion, and hope. Grace felt she must have been a disappointment. She shivered as she remembered her mother's words.
Live, risk, fall, and get back up again
. Grace didn't like to fall and wasn't much of a risk taker. She liked to be in control of her life. Now, she was in total control of her life. She shut the plastic storage bin and put the items in the closet on the shelving system. “Well, I hope no one needs to hang anything up in here."
Downstairs the living room was cozy and welcoming. The kitchen, freshly stocked with groceries, looked strange to her. After all, a single woman lived like a bachelor, fast food and microwave meals. She began the checklist of things she had, trying to remember the last time she actually cooked anything besides macaroni and cheese.
"How pathetic,” she said aloud.
Grace took one last walk around the house to make sure she had everything ready for her guests.
The small airport in New Bern was hopping. At least fifteen people flew in that afternoon. A handful of Marines were in uniform, and some locals were arriving home from vacation. There was still no sign of Megan and the guys.
It had been four years since her mother passed away, and Megan was all the family she had left. They kept in touch through phone calls and e-mails, but Grace couldn't help feeling a little abandoned by Megan. They were so close for so long, like sisters. Even through college, they kept in touch. Megan always came to see her. Then, she met Chase.
When she refused to go to New York, Megan stopped coming to visit. Grace was about to leave the luggage claim and go as far up to the departing gate as security would permit when the belt started squeaking. She watched in anticipation for luggage to appear.
"I am so sorry,” Ethan handed the flight attendant the emergency bag. Megan was completely grossed out and even Chase was annoyed by her lack of concern for his brother.
"Are you all right, man?” Chase put his hand across his brother's back. “I forgot this was a prop plane."
"Yeah, just that damn sushi and then this, well I guess you would call it a plane.” Ethan always had a sense of humor even when he was at the receiving end of it.
"Let's move people. I want to get off this plane now!” Megan passed Ethan a piece of gum, tussled his hair, and walked down the aisle to exit.
The blonde haired, blue eyed flight attendant was very concerned.
"Sir, is there
anything
I can do to make it better?” She smiled and leaned forward to see him eye to eye.
Her lashes flittered, and her cheeks blushed. He was no stranger to women making him offers. She had unbuttoned the top two buttons, and cleavage was definitely in view, but he was not interested in her or any woman, anymore. He hadn't been in a long time.
"I'm fine, thanks.” He pulled himself out of the seat. She watched with a sigh as he exited the plane.
Megan entered the airport like she owned it on a mission to find Grace. Even with four-inch heels, she was fast. Chase held back and waited for his brother. They walked together as Ethan took in the sights of the miniature airport.
"Thank you for flying pterodactyl airlines,” Ethan said sarcastically.
As they made their way to baggage claim, he searched for a bathroom. His stomach was turning again. Suddenly, he was distracted by a red flame across the way—long bright red hair, long tan legs, a serious figure.
If she would just turn around, so I can see the front ... No, there's a bathroom to the left. Must go.
Grace had watched two pieces of luggage pass by when the Louis Vuitton bags popped out. The clicking sound of heels got closer until finally she heard a squeal from behind her followed by her name.
Grace turned to see her cousin moving toward her in her ridiculously high heels as fast as her legs would carry her. She beamed and rushed toward Megan, catching a glimpse of heaven before he darted into a men's room. Oh well, that was always her luck.
"Oh my God, Grace, you look so good!” Megan grabbed her again and squeezed harder than her petite frame should have allowed. She released her bear hug and grabbed her cousin's hands. “Look what I brought.” She smiled her devilish grin. Turning around toward Chase, she noticed he was the only one there.
"Where is Ethan?” She stomped. Chase made a face as he pointed to the men's room.
"Any-who.” She rolled her eyes. “This is my Chase."
Grace could see why her cousin was in love. He was like a Tommy Hilfiger ad come to life. The one photo Megan sent showed more of Megan than the man she was sitting on. In his button down shirt and khaki pants, his smile was genuine and bright. He towered over Megan's petite frame; he had to be at least six foot tall.
Grace looked over Chase's shoulder to catch a peek at the man she had noticed before. She blushed and stared, apparently too much, because he smiled at her and seemed to be coming right for her.
Shit!
Before she could escape, Megan's voice chimed in.
"This is Ethan, Chase's brother. I told you about him in the e-mail. Joshua couldn't make it."
Grace could barely focus. Chase let go of her hand and stepped aside as this living sculpture stepped in to grab it. Ethan didn't look a thing like his brother really. He had chocolate brown hair and eyes, was nicely tanned, and wearing old jeans, which were worn in all the right places. A black T-shirt hugged every curve and muscle.
At his touch she felt faint. A shock of electricity penetrated her body. Though her lips moved, no words came out.
What the hell was happening?
Ethan couldn't believe this was Grace. Her bright red hair was just wild with long curls. From what he could tell, she didn't have on any makeup. It was just Grace. His stomach jumped, but he was sick. She had said her name twice, and yes, she was going to say it again.
Let go,
she thought.
Let go of my hand.
Once he did, she could focus again. Though she was sure she had already said it, she said it again, “I'm Grace.” She could feel the heat rising on her face that smiled widely yet spoke no more. His face flushed as the smile faded.
"Excuse me,” he said and darted off toward the men's room.
He couldn't help appreciate the woman. She wore a thin cotton T-shirt that displayed one hell of a rack. Cut off jean shorts showed off those shapely legs. Flip flops for crying out loud, he hadn't seen a woman in plain flip-flops in ages, at least not an attractive one. Damn his stomach, he may actually want to talk to her.
Megan didn't miss a beat. “That is for you, straight from New York. When he stops throwing up, you'll thank me for him. I think.” She scrunched her lips and brow.
"Chase, honey, grab my bags. That belt is getting them dirty.” She smiled and winked as he obeyed her every whim. Turning back to Grace, she noticed she was still looking toward the men's room. “You like?"
"What?” she mumbled.
"You heard me.” Megan gleamed.
"No, I didn't actually.” She smiled because she did hear her. “Do you think he's okay?"
"Ethan, okay, no I think he is H-O-T, and by the look on your face, Grace McPherson, so do you.” She looked directly at Grace to see her reaction.
"I mean, do you think he is okay in there?” Grace scowled.
Megan knew her all too well. It didn't matter if she thought Ethan was hot, what woman with a pulse wouldn't? Grace had a tendency to send men screaming in the opposite direction or booking flights to get out of the country, but Ethan would be family, Megan's family, so she had to give him a warm welcome or at least try to.
"Oh, I don't know.” Megan looked around for Chase, who was struggling with the luggage. “Honey, maybe you should check on your brother."
"Yeah, Megan. and I can load this stuff up.” Grace walked toward the luggage and grabbed a handle. The look on Chase's face was priceless. He beamed as Megan clicked lazily toward the luggage and grabbed her own handle with a pouting lip. “The car is right outside. We'll meet you there."
Grace popped up the other handle and began rolling the bags. Megan let out a whimper as she popped up her own two handles and headed out behind Grace.
"Why is he looking at you like that?” Grace whispered.
"Grace, I don't carry luggage. That's why I got a man, honey.” Megan pouted.
"Hi, nice to meet you, I'm Grace. Where's Megan?"
"Gracie, you will ruin my status. Chase thinks I'm elite. He treats me like a princess.” Megan beamed. “He calls me princess, too, just in private."
"Thanks for sharing.” Grace rolled her eyes. Megan nudged her with a smile. It had been a long time, but they were still family, and Grace missed her terribly.
Ethan emerged from the bathroom as the ladies were passing through the exit, and Chase walked toward him with the last of the bags. “You okay, man?"
"No, I think I may be dead. I thought I saw Megan pulling luggage.” He gave a knowing look at his little brother. “I feel a little queasy, but it's bound to pass."
"So, what do you think of Grace? That girl is b-e-a-utiful.” He shot Ethan his own knowing look this time. Ethan felt like shit, but he had noticed Grace, and Ethan hadn't noticed any woman in a very long time.
"Well, a pretty face is intoxicating, and just like alcohol, it can make you lose your senses. I have no plans to
drink and Grace
while I'm here."
Ethan was a little glad his cousin canceled. He may not be interested in Grace, but she'd be great to look at for the next week. Joshua would have scooped her up immediately. She was a red-head, and Joshua loved red-heads. Ethan could torture him with wild tales when he got back to the city. Make him really pay for leaving him with Chase and Megan for a week.
"I thought you liked the look of her.” Chase smiled as they exited the building. He saw something in his brother's eyes the moment they entered the airport. When he realized why he was smiling, he thought Megan's plan might just work. Well, if Ethan stopped throwing up anyway.
After three stops on the way from New Bern to Beaufort, Grace wondered if the man was going to make it to her house alive.
"Pull over,” he growled.
"Again?” Megan huffed. She was agitated. He had thrown up three times already.
Grace pulled the car over, and Ethan hit the pavement, feet then knees then hands. “This has to be all of it,” he growled to himself. “I think these women are trying to kill me."
Grace watched and empathized with the poor guy, this amazingly tall, tan, sculpted, guy. She caught herself stealing peeks and pleasure although he was obviously in agony. She felt sick herself but in the psychiatric sense.
Shame on you, Grace! Ogling this poor guy at a moment like this. God he has a great ass.
"Can you drive a little slower?” Ethan groaned as he situated himself in the car again.
"I'm trying, but I have to at least do the speed limit.” Grace wanted to be sympathetic, but she also didn't want him to throw up in her new SUV. She had saved for too long to get it. “We're almost there. Just over the bridge, and there is no stopping on the bridge."
"Then, I would drive fast."
Ethan looked at her, and his face seemed to lose color as he closed his big, sad, brown eyes.
She had a clear shot to be the lead car over the bridge, so she punched it before it turned to a one lane.
As they pulled in front of the house, she knew there was only one room he could stay in and be comfortable. The only one with a bathroom attached, hers.
Grace hurried up the pavement leading to the porch, skipping stairs as she tried to open the screen door then the main door, so this poor man could get inside quick. The screen was about to whack her when Ethan's hand caught it. He was fast, and he didn't look so good. She pushed the door open and hurried inside.
Ethan was trying to be coherent of the place, but all he really wanted to do was stop the world from spinning, so he followed the red hair and the sound of flip-flops upstairs and into a large bedroom.
"The bathroom is right here.” Grace opened the door and finally turned to look at him. He seemed pale and exhausted. His big, brown eyes were sad and heavy, looking at her like a cold, wet puppy dog caught out in the rain. “Can I get you anything?"
"No, thanks.” He didn't understand why he was sick. “I think I need to lie down if that's okay."
Ethan made his way to the bed, hoping that he had enough equilibrium left to actually sit on the bed and not next to it.
"Of course.” Grace gave a weak smile.
Sitting down on the strange bed in the strange room, he felt oddly comfortable. Typically, he wasn't relaxed in unfamiliar places. Then, this woman did the most unexpected thing for a stranger. She grabbed his shoes and pulled them off, tossing them behind her. She had obviously taken care of people before, maybe her mother. He vaguely remembered Megan babbling about her mother.
"Here, lie down."
Grace pulled the blankets back then over him as she pushed him back with her hand. Before he could say anything, a couple of long curls fell in his face as she tucked him in. All he could do was obey her. He didn't have the strength for anything else. Ethan inhaled as he closed his eyes, the light smell of jasmine soothing his senses.