As Grace grabbed her paint supplies and stalked out of the house, she wished her hands weren’t so full that she couldn’t slam the front door as well.Why don’t you try to get a real job instead of wasting time down at Trudy’s?What are you going to do with your life?Her dad’s words echoed in her mind, making her stomp down the path that would lead to the river. It wasn’t that her dad was wrong, but Grace simply didn’t have an answer to his questions. She’d gone to school to paint, she’d earned her degree, she’d tried to find some kind of job that would allow her to continue painting…but she’d quickly realized she’d have to move back home if she didn’t want to starve. She’d applied for other kinds of work—office jobs, retail, even a dog walker—but no bites. Grace had a degree with no work experience, and the economy being what it still was, no one wanted to take a chance on a twenty-three-old when they could hire a forty-three-year-old with two decades of experience instead while pa
Jaime had never preferred one kind of woman over the other: green eyes, blue eyes, brown hair, blonde hair. If it was on a woman, he liked it. Tall, short, curvy, thin, brown, white, and everything in between? He’d enjoyed women at his leisure without discrimination.But now what haunted him was long, blonde hair, like mermaid’s hair, falling in soft waves down a pale back. He knew, instantly, who the hair belonged to. Who else could it be? Who else had hair the color of dark wheat that looked amber in the sunlight?“Graciela.” Jaime wrapped an arm around her from behind, smelling her soft hair. It smelled like cherries. He sifted his hands through it, wrapping some of its length around his wrist. He wondered if Grace had ever played Rapunzel as a little girl. Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your beautiful, glorious hair.Grace sighed as he kissed the side of her neck.“Why don’t you leave your hair down more often?” It fell almost to the top of her ass, and he marveled at how long it
“I’ll get the dishes, Julia. Grace, do you want to help me?” Joy raised her eyebrows, and Grace had a feeling her brother’s fiancée wasn’t going to take no for an answer.“Sure, I would love to.” Grace began piling the dishes from dinner while Joy picked up glasses and serving plates. The Danvers tried to have family dinner a few times a week, although everyone’s schedule didn’t necessarily line up. Tonight, though, both Adam and Joy had attended, for which Grace had been infinitely thankful. Her parents could focus on someone else for a change, instead of grilling her with the same five questions.“Thanks, you two,” Julia said. “Let us know if you need any help.”“I think we got it.” Joy went into the kitchen, setting the glasses in the sink with Grace following. The Danvers’ house was old enough that it hadn’t been built with a dishwasher, and Carl hadn’t wanted to spend the money since then to install one. Thus, everything needed to be hand washed. Grace was used to it, and she f
Adam gathered the team that morning for a staff meeting. Jaime sat in the back, while the rest of his coworkers stared straight ahead at their boss, ignoring him as best they could. Some, like Kerry, would glance at him periodically, as if they could impart some kind encouragement from a look. Others, like Chris, acted like he wasn’t even in the room.Jaime rather wished they’d all leave him alone. Tired and irritable, he gripped his coffee mug and sipped the hot brew, wondering if he could call in sick because he hated every person at this table.Not everyone, though. He didn’t hate Adam. Adam was doing his best to do right by him and keep the entire town from knowing about the missing money and how the trail led to Jaime. Jaime still didn’t understand how that was the case, and when he’d asked for details, Adam had grimaced and said that they were told by their lawyer and the investigator that that should remain confidential.Jaime swallowed, watching Adam talk. Of course it was a
Grace peeled the potatoes with such force that more than one poor spud was a mere nub of its former self. Quickly tossing the offending potatoes in the trash so her mother wouldn’t see, she forced herself to peel only the brown peels.I’m not freaking out. I’m not freaking out. I’m. Not. Freaking. Out.“Grace, do you know where the potholder is?” her mother Julia asked.Grace jumped, the peeler clattering into the sink.“Goodness, you’re so on edge today!” Julia plucked the potholder from around her daughter, giving Grace a concerned look. “Are you okay?”“I’m fine. Just have a lot on my mind.” Grace turned and began peeling, slowly and without destroying the potato in hand.Julia didn’t say anything, but Grace could feel her mother’s gaze on the back of her neck.“Well, let me know if you need any help.”Grace had been like this since Adam had so helpfully told her that they’d be having a guest for Thanksgiving: none other than Jaime himself. Of course he was coming for Thanks
Jaime guessed about five seconds passed before Grace ran after him.“Jaime! Stop!” She grabbed onto his arm, effectively stopping him. “Are you always going to run away like this?”That got his attention. He swiveled, looking at her flushed cheeks and ruffled hair and how she looked like she’d just gotten kissed thoroughly, and all he could say was, “What?”She let go of his arm, crossing her own arms. “You can’t just keep doing this. You can’t kiss me and then run like you’ve murdered someone.”“I’m not running.”Grace just looked at him.He ran a hand through his hair. The sun was setting and he was sure everyone inside was wondering where the hell the two of them were. Especially Adam. Jaime winced. Adam probably thought the worst was happening out here, but of course Jaime had to be the one to run after Grace.“We just—we can’t do this.” His explanation sounded lame to his ears. He made a frustrated sound, mostly because he didn’t know how to make things clear when he himsel
Two weeks after Thanksgiving, Grace hadn’t seen nor spoken to Jaime. That had been a fairly difficult task, given the size of the town they lived in and Jaime’s connection to her family. But Grace had wanted to honor his wish to stop whatever it was they’d been doing, although in actuality, she’d been too frustrated with him to see his face and not shake him until his teeth rattled.She’d had an idea forming in her mind since then. If one of the main reasons they couldn’t be together was because of this ridiculous investigation, then perhaps Grace could do something to prove Jaime’s innocence. At first she dismissed the idea as too ludicrous. What could she do? She had an art degree, not a police badge. But as the days passed and she longed for Jaime just as much as ever, she felt like she had to do something. It was better than waiting around, hoping things would change.On a bright, chilly day in early December, Grace awoke to a light snowfall. It was the first of the year, and it
“You, Jaime Alejandro Martínez García, are the biggest piece of shit in the entire world.”Jaime looked at himself in his bathroom mirror, and sadly, his reflection didn’t feel compelled to agree or disagree with this announcement. He turned on the faucet and splashed his face with cold water until it seeped into him and maybe, just maybe, would cool off the rest of him.Not fucking likely.He just had to stop and pick Grace up, didn’t he? He just had to have her in his truck. And then he just had to stop said truck and touch her like that and get her off and hear her breathy moans as she orgasmed, and Jesus Christ, he wasn’t sure if he hated himself more than he felt stupidly pleased with himself.It had been a grand total of two hours since their…encounter. The encounter where Jaime had kissed Grace Danvers, touched her, and oh, put his hand down her pants—or leggings, in this instance—and made her come with his fingers.Looking at himself in the mirror again, he had half a mind