The Boyfriend of the Month Club (30 page)

“What is it with you and Melanie? Are you jealous of her?”

“No! Of course not.”

“I already told you, she’s not a problem.” Joe was pensive a few seconds. “You say she’s obsessed with me. Is there something you know that I don’t?”

And here lay the crux of Grace’s problem. Once you started lying, it led to more lies. If Ellen were here, she’d probably start quoting Shakespeare or Sir Walter Scott or somebody else equally irritating on the evils of deception. And she’d be right. Grace had to tell Joe about the club. But not this weekend . . .

“No, there’s . . . nothing specific. I’m just speaking in general. Look, I’m sorry I brought up Melanie. I shouldn’t have let Speedway’s show ruin our drive up.”

Joe took a minute to let it all sink in. “They’re probably actors, anyway,” he said.

Grace tried for a smile. “That’s what I’ve always thought.”

The tension caused by their little spat evaporated by the time they arrived in St. Augustine. They checked into a bed-and-breakfast on Sevilla Street, a restored late-nineteenth-century Victorian that Grace had always admired whenever she’d walked through the area surrounding the historic district. They spent the next two hours sightseeing, mulling their way through the crowds of tourists, many of them couples. St. Augustine, located between Daytona Beach and Jacksonville, was the nation’s oldest European city. It was founded in the early sixteenth century by Spanish conquistadors and was the home of the Castillo de San Marcos—an old stone military fortress overlooking the water—as well as countless tourist offerings such as the Ripley’s Believe It or Not Museum and Ponce de León’s Fountain of Youth.

“How on earth did you get a room on Valentine’s Day weekend on such short notice?” Grace remembered Joe had told her that his father owned a condo in St. Augustine and she had wondered why they weren’t staying there. Not that she was complaining. The room at the bed-and-breakfast was charming, complete with a queen-sized poster bed, fireplace, and its own private patio.

“Who says it was on short notice?” They went into a side shop where Joe bought them a cotton candy to share. He stuffed his mouth with the pink sugary stuff, making him look like a big kid. “I made the reservation the day after New Year’s Eve.”

“Right,” Grace said with a laugh. He had to be joking. Grace was almost certain Joe had never meant for them to last beyond that one night, let alone all the way to Valentine’s Day.

He pretended to look hurt, but then he grinned and those dimples popped out and Grace decided she would believe anything he said when he smiled like that. Since they still had all of tomorrow, Joe said they would save the best for last. A morning visit to Ripley’s, followed by the Spanish fort.

They ate dinner at a small restaurant near their bed-and-breakfast. The food was delicious and the atmosphere unhurried. Grace wore a long-sleeved red silk sheath, her black heels, and the Mikimoto pearls Mami and Pop had given her when she graduated from FSU. Joe wore dark linen slacks with a blue silk shirt open at the collar, a black blazer, and no tie. Grace was cognizant of the looks they received from the other patrons. It was similar to the ones they’d gotten that Sunday evening a few months earlier when they’d shopped together for Joe’s Thanksgiving feast. Only then, Grace had been amused by the stares. Tonight, she couldn’t help but feel proud. Excited even. And maybe just a tad bit nervous. Although what she was nervous about, she had no idea. They didn’t mention the Speedway show or Melanie again, and Grace was grateful for that, but they didn’t talk about anything overly serious either.

After dinner, they took a horse-drawn carriage ride through town. The temperature had dipped into the forties but Joe had his arm around her the whole time so she stayed warm. By the time they got back to their room it was after eleven.

She sat on the edge of the bed, kicked off her heels and watched as Joe built up a fire. It was such a manly occupation, conjuring up images of caves and loincloths, that it made Grace giggle.

Joe turned and faced her. “Are you laughing at my fire?”

“Never,” she said in a deep guttural voice. “Fire good.”

Joe quickly caught on. “Fire better than good. Man make great fire.” He joined her on the bed and gave her a slow, heated look. “Why woman still have dress on?”

Grace had no logical answer to that, so they dropped the caveman shtick along with their clothes and made love on the queen-sized bed in front of the blazing fire. Joe was sweet and slow and thoughtful, and Grace felt she’d never been happier. Afterward, they lay there for a few minutes not saying anything, both of them catching their breath. Then Joe pointed to the bedside clock. “Hey, it’s official. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

It was ten minutes after midnight. The St. Valentine’s Day Curse was broken!

“I have something for you.” He slipped out of bed and padded his way to the closet.

“I thought I just got my present,” Grace joked.

“This is one you can hold in your hand.”

“I have something for you too.” She grabbed his discarded dress shirt and donned it, because she just couldn’t prance around the room naked like he could. She pulled a box from her suitcase. “Here.” She handed it to him. “You go first.”

Joe ripped the paper off in one sweep. He stared down at the plastic shrink-wrapped bucket with the assorted paraphernalia inside. It was a child’s toy, and now that he held it in his hands, she was struck with how ridiculous it looked.

“It’s the last known mermaid-watching kit in existence,” Grace said. Sure, Joe had liked it as a kid, but what would he do it with now?

“I love it,” he said quietly.

“
Really?
I know it’s kind of hokey, but it’s actually a collector’s item.” She gave him a mock hard stare. “If I ever see it on eBay, I’m coming after you.”

“I’d never do that,” he said so solemnly that any anxiety she’d had over the present was instantly gone.

“Okay, my turn.” She peeled off the paper to expose a plain white box. Inside was a pink wax mermaid. None of the Mold-A-Rama machines at Florida Charlie’s made mermaids. “Where did you get this?” she asked.

“In Tampa, last weekend when I was there for the rugby match.”

An image of Joe dressed in his rugby gear, most likely all muddy and sweaty, scouring through amusement parks to scope out Mold-A-Rama machines made her throat tighten. “It’s the most romantic gift anyone’s ever given me.”

“Most girls would want jewelry or flowers. But I thought . . . Do you not see the irony here? You give me a mermaid watching kit and I give you this. It’s like we’re—”

“On the same page?”

He nodded. She snuggled up against him and stifled a yawn against his neck.

“I’m glad you decided to take the weekend off,” Joe said.

“Me too.” For a brief second she thought about Florida Charlie’s. But everything had to be okay. Penny had promised she’d call if it wasn’t.

“So you like this place? This bed-and-breakfast?”

“It’s great.” This time she couldn’t stop the yawn. She let her fingers drift over his chest. In the next two seconds, she’d be asleep.

“I was worried maybe it wouldn’t be as nice as it looked on the outside.” He placed his hand over hers, the one that was making the lazy patterns over his skin, and stilled it. “I thought about taking you to my dad’s condo.”

It was an unfinished thought, one that made Grace suddenly alert.

“Why didn’t you? Does your father have it rented out?”

“He doesn’t rent it out. I have a key, but I’ve never used it.”

“Why not?” she asked softly.

“I used to love that place when I was kid. Lots of windows. Right on the beach . . . My dad and I built this huge sand castle one summer. It took us an entire day. A local photographer took a picture of it and it showed up in the paper.”

Although she couldn’t see his face, she sensed him smile. She could also sense when the smile disappeared.

“I don’t go there because that’s where my father used to take his girlfriends.”

“You mean, before he married your mother?”

“No, I mean
while
he was married to my mother.”

Grace didn’t know what to say.

“Of course, I didn’t know that’s what they were at the time. One summer, instead of coming up with us, my mom stayed back home to attend some charity event. I think they got in a fight about it, I’m not sure. I was only six or seven. So my dad and I got here and about an hour later this woman showed up. I thought she was the babysitter.”

She could feel his heart beating with her palm. Oddly, it felt slow and steady. It was only her heart that was beating faster.

“Fucking bastard.” He laughed, but it sounded more like a rusty growl.

Grace remembered the night she’d told him about Craig cheating on Sarah and how Felix had cheated on her. When she’d asked him if he’d ever been cheated on before, he’d answered no, but his expression had seemed off. She understood now. He’d been cheated on too, just not in the usual way.

“Apparently he had quite a reputation with the ladies. Especially among the ones who worked in his office.”

Joe’s firm insistence on keeping his private life separate from his professional life made more sense now. She could even understand why he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge that he knew her in front of Tiffany. Not with the way she and Joe had first “met.”

He shrugged. “He is what he is. I’ve accepted that and he and I are okay now. But I wanted you to know why I didn’t take you to the condo. In case you thought . . . I don’t know . . .”

There was something so incredibly vulnerable in his voice that Grace couldn’t stand it anymore. Her heart felt like it was swelling, getting bigger and bigger while it pushed the rest of her organs off to the sides. She could hardly take a breath. She wanted to reach inside her chest and stop it, it hurt so much.

“Joe . . . I—” She shook her head, not sure of what she’d been about to say. So she kissed him instead. A deep, powerful, hungry kiss that she knew he’d respond to. And then he jumped her. Or maybe she jumped him. And this time he wasn’t sweet and slow and thoughtful, and that was perfectly fine with her.

“This place is beautiful and creepy at the same time,” Grace said.

They were inside the Spanish fort, gazing into one of the tiny holding rooms where prisoners had been housed during one of the many skirmishes over the fort’s illustrious history. After a morning spent at the Ripley’s Believe It or Not Museum, they had lunch at The Columbia restaurant, where Grace had pronounced the
ropa vieja
not nearly as good as her mother’s. They’d made it to the fort just in time to see the last cannon demonstration of the day.

They climbed the steps to the observation deck, and when they reached the top, Joe kissed her. It was impulsive and Grace couldn’t help but feel relieved. Although they’d had a nice enough day, Joe had seemed distant, which was unlike him, especially in light of last night’s intimacy.

His cell phone went off. “It’s my mother,” he said, glancing at the screen.

Joe’s mother had already called once this morning, during breakfast. Joe hadn’t asked for privacy, so Grace had listened as they were eating. His end of the conversation had been basically a series of grunts. They spoke for a few minutes, with Joe once again giving noncommittal answers before he snapped the phone shut.

“Is she okay?” Grace asked.

“Everything’s fine,” he said.

They finished their tour of the fort and were walking back to the bed-and-breakfast when Joe’s phone went off again. He looked at the screen and slipped his cell back in his pocket without answering.

“Is it your mom?” Grace asked, beginning to get worried.

Joe told her it wasn’t. He placed his hand in hers and they walked back to the bed-and-breakfast. They had just walked into their room when she heard the pinging sound that meant he’d just received a text message.

What was with all the calls? Grace was dying to ask who it was, but if Joe wanted to share, then he would. A myriad of crazy thoughts flashed through Grace’s mind. She wasn’t jealous of Melanie, or anyone else for that matter, but still . . .

“I’ll go run a bath,” Grace said, slipping into the bathroom to allow him some privacy. When she came out a few minutes later to retrieve something out of her suitcase, Joe was packing his bag.

“Baby, I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to cut the weekend short.”

“Is your mother all right?”

“My mother’s fine.” He paused. “Let’s just say there’s some family drama going on that I have to take care of.” She waited for him to expound but he didn’t.

“Okay, I’ll just gather up my stuff.”

He reached out and pulled her in his arms. “Hey, this has nothing to do with us,” he said, his voice all warm and husky. “I had a good weekend.”

She smiled, relieved. “Me too.”

“Tonight’s not over. I’m going to drop you off at your place, go handle the Rosenblum version of 911, and come back. Although it will probably be late. Maybe around midnight, if that’s okay.”

“Not a problem. And Joe, don’t worry. I understand. Family comes first.”

27

The Curse Strikes Again

Joe dropped her off at her town house, so Grace called Sarah and made plans to attend the Dragon’s housewarming party. In a way, Grace was okay with the way things had turned out. She’d had her romantic getaway with Joe, but now that it had been cut short, she could support Sarah. She didn’t once consider going to the boyfriend club meeting at The Continental. Penny and Ellen could handle things for one night.

Sarah said the Dragon was on the fussy side, so best to dress up. Grace didn’t have time to think about what to wear, so she donned the same red silk sheath she’d worn to dinner the previous night in St. Augustine, which luckily had traveled well and hadn’t wrinkled. Sarah wore a coral-colored cocktail dress shot through with gold metallic thread and matching gold belt. Her hair was twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck. She looked like she’d just walked out of a fashion magazine, all cool and elegant and sexy, and Grace couldn’t help but feel how unfair it was that Craig was already remarried and here Sarah was starting over, going on a blind date of all things.