Rescued By The Wolf. Kristal Hollis
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Since Cassie had no family after her mom’s passing, Gavin said Cassie needed a “sister.”
How could Grace say no?
Now she had her own room—dubbed the Grace Olsen Suite, available anytime she visited.
“Want anything else?”
“I’m good.” Cassie tucked a loose red ringlet behind her ear. “I hate that you’re doting on me. You have a concussion.”
“It’s only a bump and I have a hard head.” Grace sat on the couch, drawing her bare feet beneath her.
“I can’t believe you saw Rafe naked.” Cassie stretched her legs and propped her tiny, swollen feet on the coffee table. “Funny, Brice was naked when we met, too.”
Cassie rubbed her pregnant belly. “See where that led me?”
“Don’t jinx me. I will adore the little girl right there,” she pointed at Cassie’s belly, “but I don’t do serious relationships and I don’t want to be a single mom.” Grace had seen how hard it was on her mother, single parenting every time her father was deployed.
“I never planned on this, either. Yet here I am and I couldn’t be happier.”
“It’s different for you. You’re planted here.” Grace fluffed her pillow. “I’ve never lived in a place longer than a few years.”
Cassie sipped her tea. “Maico was no different from any other of the half-dozen towns my mom dragged me to. I expected we’d be here for eighteen months tops before we moved on. Then, she died, I had nowhere to go and Maico became home.”
“Because you got stuck here. Once Matt gets on his feet again—figuratively speaking, I’ll be free to live anywhere.”
“What about here? Maico is a great place.” A hopeful smile lit Cassie’s face, just like the one she’d given Grace when they were seven and Cassie had asked her to be friends. “Give it a chance to become your home, too.”
Growing up in military housing, Grace had always craved a real home. A place where she could put nails in walls to hang her pictures and posters. But, every time she started getting comfortable, her family would move again. Eventually, Grace stopped unpacking her suitcases and boxes. Why bother if she was going to repack them anyway?
Cassie tucked an errant red curl behind her ear. “I want you around for Brenna’s sake, when she finally gets here.”
“No matter where I am, I’ll only be a text away.”
“You can’t hold her over the internet.”
Grace clenched her jaw. Many of her childhood milestones had had to be video relayed to her father overseas or emailed. She thought it sucked then. It would suck if she did the same to Cassie’s baby.
“I’m only a few hours away.”
“For now. How long until you move away?” Cassie’s red brows angled over her eyes and Grace hoped it wasn’t bad luck to make a pregnant woman frown. “I remember you used to complain about moving so often. When you grew up, you wanted a big two-story house, a husband and six kids.”
“I got used to moving. Now it’s in my blood and I get antsy if I stay too long in one place.” Grace shook her head. “I must’ve been crazy to want six kids. I have a hard enough time keeping up with myself. As for a husband, I’ll stick to friends with benefits for now.”
“How’s that working for you?”
“I’m in a slump.” More of a Sahara dry spell, actually. She’d left her sex buddy in Seattle and hadn’t had much opportunity to meet anyone in Knoxville.
“Any sparks with Rafe last night?”
“If we were beakers in a chemistry lab we would’ve blown up the building.”
“He’s a great guy. Good-looking. Dependable.” An impish grin broke on Cassie’s face and she rubbed her palms.
“Sometimes the packaging doesn’t match what’s inside.”
“Rafe’s does.” Cassie’s face pinked. “Not that I’ve actually seen his package.”
“He has a mighty fine ass.” Grace laughed.
“You should explore that.” Cassie’s flush deepened. “I mean, your attraction to him. He really is one of the good ones.”
“So was Derek, or so I thought.”
“Rafe isn’t Derek.” Cassie set her cup aside. “Trust me. You’ve never dated someone like Rafe.”
“Uh, no.” Grace shook her head and a heavy weight settled in the pit of her stomach. “I prefer sex with men who actually like me.”
“Why do you think he doesn’t like you?”
“‘I don’t want to be your friend, Grace.’” She mimicked Rafe’s deadpan delivery.
“I told Brice the same thing.” Cassie giggled, pointing her index fingers at her belly.
“Not funny.”
“Don’t analyze Rafe. He says exactly what he means and only what he means. Simple, concise, no hidden context. So, he doesn’t want to be friends. He left the door wide open to be something else.”
“Not interested.” A smidgen of a fib she’d stand by.
“I wish you would put Derek behind you and move forward with your life.”
“I have, and I’m a pro at moving.”
“You sound like my mother.” The corners of Cassie’s mouth sagged. “Imogene died never finding her happiness. She ran from life instead of making it her own.”
“My life is my own. I have a comfortable, portable web design business and I’ve traveled the world. What more could I want?”
“Someone meaningful to join you on those travels.” Cassie rubbed slow circles across her abdomen. “Someone you love to the moon, someone who loves you beyond it.”
“I’m happy you’ve found that with Brice.” Grace swallowed to soothe the burn in her throat. “Be happy that I’m happy with the life I live.”
Most days. Sometimes the loneliness ate at her.
“Still have your old dream book?”
“Yes.” A school project from their days in Mrs. Haverty’s art class. “I’m surprised you remember it.”
Grace had carted the old scrapbook with her on every move. The opening pages displayed pictures of the perfect house, a two-story stone and log-plank house with floor to ceiling windows. Clippings of an antique apothecary, a Queen Anne couch, Tiffany lamps, and everything else she thought would make a perfect home filled the rest.
“It’s filled with the dreams of a seven-year old,” Cassie said.
It was much more. Grace had added to it over the years, up until she’d lost the baby and Derek asked for a divorce.
“Burn it.” Cassie’s pointed look meant business.
“I’m not burning it.”
The tattered scrapbook served as a reminder. Broken hearts, broken dreams and broken trust were all she got from the men in her past. No way would she trust one with her future.
“I expected you in my office yesterday.” Gavin Walker’s voice scraped down Rafe’s spine.
The screwdriver slipped and stabbed Rafe’s right hand. He dropped the rail glide he was trying to fasten