chapter 8

*Grace*

I’m already exhausted after I seed the west acreage with the tow-behind broadcast spreader. It’s hot and I’m more than annoyed by the time I get the chain drag hooked behind the cultipacker so I can cover the seed.

I run the irrigation for one pass, grateful for the cooling mist, then check the electric fencing before I load everything back up and take the tractor home.

I wave to Rob on the roof as I come up the drive, admiring the sight of him, tan, sweaty and shirtless as he works on the shingles. At this distance, he can’t tell anyway.

He’s there in the barn before I finish unloading my equipment, offering to help. “Where do you want this?”

“There’s a room in the back of the barn. I don’t even know what’s in it.” I point the direction I mean. “But if it’ll fit, put it in there. That’ll give you more room to work out here.”

“That won’t work.” Rob’s answer comes too fast and I peer at him closely. Before I can ask, he explains, “It’s full of old junk already. I haven’t had a chance to clean it out yet.”

“What kind of junk?”

Rob shakes his head and shrugs. “I’m not even sure. It’s just packed.”

He’s not meeting my eyes, which is strange until my insecurity kicks in and I wonder if I’ve got something in my teeth or on my face. “Then put it where it’s out of your way.”

*Rob*

I tell the story of Grace and the barn backroom the next time I meet the guys at Three Fools, and they get a laugh out of my near miss.

The piano’s completely reassembled, refinished and sealed, and I’m trying to figure out how I can schedule Grace out of the house long enough to allow the tuner to restring and tune it. They suggest I ask Ella for help, but I don’t have a way to get in touch with her, and more than a month went by after we saw her fighting with her husband at the bar before she got in touch with Grace again.

That makes me angry, but I don’t know what I can do about it besides keep a weather eye out for Ella’s husband the same way I do Mueller.

Cameron cuts out early, but none of us mind. He’s been seeing the girl he hooked up with in February the night I met Ella the first time. Apparently, they’re good together, and though the rest of us haven’t met her yet, it’s clear Cameron is nuts about her.

Tim’s trying his luck at the bar with the pink-haired waitress. Only now her hair’s blue. She’s been a little more receptive to him since I brought Grace in here, and as Dan and I watch, he follows her out the back, giving us two thumbs up with a huge cheesy grin on his face.

“He has no idea what he’s getting into.” I raise my brows and wave back, taking a sip of my beer.

Across from me, Dan nods. “I’ve seen her try to pin you back there. Wonder what changed her mind about him?”

“Grace.”

“You brought her here?” When I nod, Dan whistles through his teeth. “Man, that was ballsy.”

“I wasn’t really thinking about anything besides Grace at the time.”

“What are you waiting for?”

I shake my head, give a little shrug.

“Buddy, anybody can see you’re head over heels for her. You have to tell her.”

“I have one more thing to do first.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “Please don’t tell me ‘get my degree’ or I’ll hurl. There’s always ‘one more thing to do first’, Rob. You keep putting it off, somebody will steal her away from you.”

“She doesn’t like Skittles.”

There’s a long pause as Dan gives me a pointed, disappointed stare. “I don’t know why I’m friends with you,” Dan chuckles.

*Grace*

With my extremely limited experience growing beets, the biggest challenge I face early on is weed control. The seedling beets are ridiculously slow growing and can’t survive much weed pressure. What’s more, they’re hyper-sensitive to herbicides and it took me longer than I hoped to find a few that would work to control weed growth until they were established.

Now that they are though, they’re my favorite crop. They’re incredibly drought tolerant, and even after a few deer got inside the electric fence and cleared a small patch of the greens down to the roots, they bounced back with new top growth within a few days.

I’m still walking the west acreage daily, manually watering and hand pulling the more aggressive weeds. In the last few weeks, I noticed a few plants have brownish-black bullseye looking scorch marks, so I must’ve let them dry out a bit too much, but I’m pretty proud of myself overall.

After we bumped into Ella at the bar, the day Rob’s friends fixed my tractor—the day Rob and I danced—I don’t hear from Ella for more than a month. Not even replies to my texts.

Rob keeps encouraging me to reach out to her, and I trust his instincts. Something isn’t right, and I’m worried when I do finally arrange to hang out with her and my niece and nephew at the pool in their community one afternoon.

Ella’s lost a lot of weight, and she looks haggard. We’re stretched out on loungers, watching the kids swim when she comes clean.

“Paul and I are separated.” Softly, she adds, “Don’t make a big show of it, please. I couldn’t deal with this elitist bunch of bitches looking down their noses at me.”

She’s right, of course. We’re surrounded by her neighbors. “When?”

“Not long after we saw you at the bar—Paul was a jerk about Rob, by the way.”

“Ella, please tell me that’s not why.”

She shakes her head. Rooting in her purse, Ella brings out her phone. “No. This is why.” She hands the phone to me, open to her text messages with Paul.

Hey, baby. I’m not going to make it home tonight.

It’s fine. I didn’t expect you anyway. See you tomorrow.

Thanks, babe. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.

I love you too.

Hey, Kellie. I’ll pick you up at 6

Who’s Kellie?

Before I can ask, Ella supplies, “They’ve been screwing around for months.”

“Oh no.” I lower my head and rub my eyes with one hand. “What are you going to do?”

“He wants to fix it.” Ella fakes a smile and waves at her kids in the pool. “I don’t really care if he does, but the kids miss him.”

“I’m here for you, Ella. Whatever you decide.”

Her eyes are welling with tears when I look at her and she covers them quickly with sunglasses. She nods but says nothing.

“Whatever I have, it’s yours if you need it.”

*Rob*

The afternoon Grace spends with her sister is barely enough time, but with the tractor trailer, I manage to move the insanely heavy, refinished piano into the parlor and get it tuned before she gets home.

The tuner played on it for a few minutes after he was done, explaining that he doesn’t like the box grands because they sound different. With as little musical talent as I have, I can’t tell. The music it makes is transformative and inspiring and it fills the parlor so much it feels like the room might burst. I can hardly wait to hear Grace play on it.

I’ve just finished reinstalling the deck railing when my phone vibrates in my pocket. Worried something has happened and Grace needs me, I answer it without looking at the caller.

“Hello?”

I can hear hurried footsteps in the background. “Hi Rob. I’m in between cases, so I don’t have time to talk. Your parent’s paperwork is approved. You need to get them out of there ASAP. I’ll send you the details when I get back to the office tonight.”

As I hang up the call, Grace comes around the veranda to the deck. “What are you doing out here?” At the look on my face, she hurries towards me. “Are you okay?”

Her words shake me out of my shock, and I grin. Without thinking, I wrap Grace in my arms in a tight hug. Her hair smells faintly of chlorine and some fruity sunblock, but beneath is the female smell of her I love. I inhale deeply and feel her arms slide around my waist.

“Rob, what’s happened? Why are you out here?”

“Lose rail,” I lie and reluctantly release her. “How was Ella?”

Grace gestures towards the house with her head and I grab my toolbox and follow. “It’s what we thought.”

Since summer started, we’ve settled into a different, slower and more enjoyable routine. It includes a lot of time together talking—what I refer to mentally as our pillow talk, even though we aren’t sleeping together. We connect over breakfast and over dinner again about our plans for the day.

After the night at the bar with my friends at the beginning of summer, a lot of our pillow talk involves Grace’s relationship with her sister. Particularly, what Dan and I saw as Ella and Paul were leaving. Possibility isn’t the same as probability though.

Taking a long stride, I catch Grace’s arm gently and turn her to me, my face drawn in a frown. “He’s cheating on her?”

She nods glumly. “The kids don’t know yet. She doesn’t know what she’s going to do.”

**

That changes in a big hurry.

Over the next week, with Grace supporting her, Ella files paperwork at the courthouse to formalize the separation from her husband.

Together, the sisters looked for a new house for Ella and her kids. When they settle on a nice place on the opposite side of town from St. Mary’s and nearer to Grace, I rally the guys and we rent a truck and move them.

It’s clear Grace’s niece and nephew don’t understand what’s going on and that’s distressing to both sisters, but obviously, especially to Ella. Ironically, it’s Dan who gets the kids excited, jumping with them on the built-in trampoline and raving about the pool, and seems to lighten even Ella’s spirits.

With all the extra activity, Grace and I barely have time to talk about anything else, and certainly not enough for me to share my news. The fall semester will start in a few weeks and between school resuming and harvest, I’m running out of time.

“You look beat. Let me take you to dinner,” I suggest, when Grace makes it home mid-afternoon on the following Sunday.

She rubs a hand over her eyes. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll have something fixed in a half hour or so.”

When she makes for the kitchen, I catch her hand. Immediately, she stops, peering at me. “Let me take you out to dinner, Grace. I have something I want you to celebrate with me.”

The entrancing space between her lips opens and I can see her thoughts whirling in her head, but she just nods. “Let me change my shirt.”

*Grace*

I’m not certain what prompts my decision, but as I look through the closet for a clean shirt, I decide on a black button-down with lace that starts at the collar, runs down the shoulders to the cuff of the sleeves. It dresses up my jeans a little and for the first time in a while, I even feel sexy.

Whatever prompted it, I’m grateful, because we wind up at a romantic Italian restaurant not far from where Ella lives now.

“Hi,” our waitress greets us when she comes to the table. She leaves a small basket of bread, then pours a flat dish with herb-infused oil to dip it in. “I’m Kellie and I’ll be your server. Can I start you with something to drink?”

**

The meal is delicious, and of course, my handsome and attentive companion is divine. We have wine with dinner and share dessert after, but as we’re leaving the restaurant, I realize Rob never told me what we’re celebrating.

It’s cool as we walk to the car, and there’s a faint suggestion of rain on the breeze. Rob opens my door for me and makes certain I’m tucked in before he hurries behind the car and climbs in the driver’s side. He’s putting the key in the ignition when I set my hand on his arm.

“You still haven’t told me what we were celebrating,” I urge.

Shifting in his seat as much as possible in the small car, Rob faces me, a broad grin on his face. “My parents. Their immigration paperwork has gone through. They’re scheduled for their immigration interviews in a few weeks.”

“Oh!” I breathe. Throwing my arms around Rob’s neck, I hug him tightly. “I’m so happy for you!”

*Rob*

It takes a few seconds, then my hands close on her waist, sliding around her in a hug. It feels nice, this connection. To her. Pressed against me, Grace sighs in contentment and I wonder, why do I deny myself something that feels like this?

The sparks start flying and my blood heating the instant her sigh whispers along my neck. Though I know I shouldn’t, I lift her against me as much as the car will allow.

*Grace*

Rob’s fingers stroke the small of my back in languid circles, sensitizing every nerve and sending pleasant shivers shooting up my neck. He’s never touched me like this before, and it feels incredible. Stiffening as I realize it, I loosen my hold around him, drawing back so I can see his eyes.

What’s there makes my breath catch. Even in the darkness of the car, Rob’s honey eyes are lit with sparks of desire. As I watch, his gaze lifts slowly from my mouth. Unerringly, he reads everything I feel.

One warm hand starts a slow climb along my spine from my lower back, and I draw a shaky breath, closing my eyes when his fingertips brush the flesh at my neck, lift my hair away. A trembling moan escapes me when his lips press against the tender skin in the crook of my shoulder and I tip my head wantonly to allow him more room.

His lips are so soft, his feathery kisses perfect against my skin. In how they move, exciting nerves I didn’t know I had. How his warm breath sends a whole different slew of wild sensations rushing through me.

“So soft,” he whispers, his lips following the curve of my neck. “So beautiful.” He dots light kisses along my jaw, his lips hovering just above mine without touching. Waiting for me. Inviting me.

I don’t hesitate. I press my mouth hungrily to his and he meets me. Yields to me. Urges me to explore him.  He encourages my hands wandering his chest, across his shoulders, my fingers tangling into his hair. Rob gasps for breath with me when our mouths separate, moves with me each time I renew the kiss.

*Rob*

I have no idea how much time passes before I realize Grace is shivering against me. Aware suddenly, guilt floods me and reluctantly, I pull away, lean my forehead against hers. “You’re cold.” It comes out in a breathless pant. Not that I’m complaining—making out with her is on a whole other level.

“No,” Grace breathes, shaking her head. Opening her eyes to me, she smiles, then glances around at the condensation fogging the windows and giggles. Though she doesn’t stop trembling, she whispers, “I’m not cold at all.”

Twisting carefully, I reach around her, turn the key in the ignition to start the car. The movement presses her body against me and I fight the urge to groan. I press a button on the console, starting the warm blowing of the defrost. “Liar.”

“No. That’s not why I’m trembling.” Her words still whisper, barely above the sound of the fan. “You should keep me warm like this all night.”

My eyes lock on hers, not daring to hope. “I couldn’t possibly have heard what I thought I heard. What did you say?”

Grace presses her lips against my open mouth, her tongue dipping in, scraping teasingly along the straight row of my upper teeth. All I can think about is how long it’s been since I’ve been with anyone, how much I want her.

“Take me home, Rob. Hurry.”

Grace wants me! She wants me as much as I want her! I can barely wrap my mind around the thought. And I definitely can’t get home fast enough.

*Grace*

Rob kills the engine as soon as his car pulls alongside my truck in the drive. Leaping out, he rushes around to my door, groaning as I stand, wrapping my arms around him and pressing kisses into his throat. Pulling me with him, he backs up so he can close the car door.

“Dammit! My keys!”

Giggling, I release him and make for the farmhouse veranda as Rob ducks back into his car.

“Oh, hell. Did I break it? Hell with it!” Jogging past me and taking the stairs two at a time, he fumbles again with his keys at the front door. His hands shake in frustration, a low moan escaping him as my hands slide under his shirt from behind, over the tense muscles of his abdomen and up his smooth chest. When I drag my nails lightly over his nipples, he shudders, his breath leaving him in a moaning whoosh.

As the door swings open, Rob turns to me, then with me, his mouth pressed against mine greedily. Backing into the house, I tug him towards the stairs at the same time I pull his t-shirt over his head. “There’s too much fabric between us,” I say huskily, dropping his shirt on the stairs.

Kicking the door closed behind him, Rob’s eyes rake over me desirously. “Agreed.” His words are savage with his need—need for me—and I love the sound of it.

Rob’s fingers fumble with the small buttons down the front of my blouse. As I back up the stairs, he follows, then halfway up, he gives up and lifts the shirt over my head from the waist, dropping it over the stair railing.

He groans at the sight of my skin against the black lace of my bra and his body’s reaction is instant and obvious.

I draw a slow breath through my teeth, slipping my fingers into the waist of his jeans and tug at him to follow. “I have wanted this for so long.”

“You’re not the only one.” His hands slide along the curves from my hips to my breasts, and a light shiver runs up my spine. He cups my breasts, nibbling and kissing along the bra’s lacy edge, firing my senses. Breathless and dizzy, I wobble against him on the stairs.

Rob releases me suddenly with an agonized groan. “Wait. Right. Here,” he orders, leaping agilely to the bottom of the stairs. “Damn keys!”

As he swings the door open, grappling with the keys still hanging in the lock, I turn, heading into my bedroom.

I smile to myself, hearing the front door close and Rob’s keys hit the entry floor, then the sound of his feet as he takes the stairs two at a time coming after me. As the bedside lamp’s low glow floods the room, I hear him behind me, feel the heat of his body.

I love the way I fit against him as he wraps me into his arms.

Then Rob murmurs against my neck, “Grace, are you sure?”

I stiffen immediately, quiver with dismay. “Don’t you want me?” In the quiet room, my whispered question seems loud.

“I do. Beyond reason.” Rob turns me in his arms. “The first time I laid eyes on you I wanted you,” he admits huskily. “But this is all I am. This is all I can give you. You have to be sure, Grace.”

“That’s more than enough.” Reaching behind me, I unhook my bra, shrug my shoulders out of the delicate straps.

Rob’s eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them, and there’s heat in them as they rove over my body.

“You are so perfect,” he whispers, kneeling before me and sliding the flimsy fabric over my hands. Tossing my bra aside, he feathers kisses from my navel, first to one hip, then to the other. In the wake of his touch, my skin tingles maddeningly. Mind-erasingly.

Tangling my fingers in his hair, I run my palms over his shoulders, heedless of the sounds I’m making, lost in the sensations his mouth and breath create. There’s a hot ache building inside me, one I want him to fill, even if I have to follow him to the ends of the earth to make that happen. When Rob stands, I let him ease me backwards and onto my bed.

The touch of my clothes sliding off me is an insult I can hardly bear as he undresses me. But it’s all gone in the powerful onslaught of sensations when he loops one elbow beneath each of my knees and, pressing my hips into the bed with a firm palm on my stomach, explores me with his mouth and tongue.

Wave after wave of trembling pleasure crests and crashes over me. I can barely breathe, what he’s doing feels so good. I tangle my fingers in his hair, clutching him to me and beg him for more.

When at last he releases me, I watch eagerly as Rob steps out of his jeans, eyeing the perfect muscles of his chest and abdomen as he kicks them towards the pile he’d made of our clothes. Crawling to the side of the bed, I kneel, patting the space beside me. When Rob sits, I swing myself onto his lap, grasping at his broad shoulders to keep from sliding off.

“You’re going to fall off,” Rob chuckles, cupping my bottom. Then he gasps, muscles tightening throughout his body as we fuse.

It feels so good, we cling to each other, just breathing heavily. But the ache inside me isn’t satisfied. With a soft moan, I press my hips into him, gasping when new pleasure washes over me.

*Rob*

That tiny movement, the shift in her hips, and the sound of enjoyment Grace makes when she does it, it’s all I can stand.

I’ve been straining for control since the minute she told me to bring her home. Touching and kissing her, feeling her writhe under me and hearing the soft cries she gives shreds the few remaining fibers of my restraint. When she slid over me, like a warm wet glove, it was all I could do to contain myself.

Now, this slow rock of her hips—I come undone.

My hands clutch her bottom and I roll with her like a swollen river cascades in its bed, persistent and fluid, our rhythm driven by the same simple need. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced. We’re both entirely lost in the throbbing ecstasy when it peaks, crashing over the falls into a smooth, quiet basin.

Plastic, Grace melts into me, collapsing against my chest as I lie back. Supporting her weight on her knees, she struggles to catch her breath.

“Don’t do that,” I order gently.

“Do what?”

“You’re not heavy. Just lie down with me.”

Hesitant, Grace eases her weight onto me slowly, as if giving me time to reconsider. But I don’t. I just cradle her against me and, relieved of the responsibility to support herself, she puddles where I put her with a gratified sigh.

“That’s more like it.” I tug the extra blanket folded at the foot of her bed and pull it over us, then wrap my arms around her. Her breathing’s slowed and synced with mine. I smile realizing it and nuzzle a tender kiss against her cheek.

Though I know Grace needs her rest, I have no desire to leave. I want to stay here, in her bed, holding her all night, then wake and make love to her again in the morning.

“Grace,” I whisper, holding her tighter as she twitches at the sound of her name. “Grace.”

“Hmmm?”

“May I stay?”

Settling herself more comfortably on my chest, Grace sighs. “You’re going to find it difficult not to.”

*Paul*

Across the parking lot, I watch the shadowy movements of the occupants of a low black sports car, see the windows fog over. So it is happening, I think, my teeth gritted. She’s sleeping with that nobody. That nothing.

Grace Hammond infuriates me.

I ease my car onto the street before I flick on the lights. But I’m not driving towards my empty house. I’m not even driving to Kellie’s apartment to wait outside again so she can refuse to speak to me too, like Ella. I have another stop to make before then. If I’m going to get rid of Grace, I need help.

Several minutes later, Grace’s house looms in the headlights, then fades into the darkness as I pass, and finally pull into the gravel drive of the Mueller farm.

Before I can shut off the car, the front door opens and the lanky older man walks towards me, making a gesture to roll down the window.

“What do you want?” Mueller braces himself on the passenger door once the window’s down.

“I want rid of him,” I snap. “I want rid of them both,” I add quickly, seeing the speculation in the other man’s eyes. “I know you want that too. How do we make it happen?”

“She turned me down when I offered to buy and now, she’s got the best sugar beet crop in the county and she knows it,” Mueller drawls, yawning. “But unfortunately for her, her cash crop’s got leaf spot. Give it a month. It’ll all be over.”

“That’s not good enough.”

Crossing his arms on the door sill, Mueller eyes me with amusement. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because it’s not.” I can’t explain why I’m so angry, why I hate that the polite and respectful Korean earned Grace’s favor when I couldn’t buy it. Why I hate the woman who supported my wife against me and ruined my relationship with my mistress.

“Yeah, you don’t have to answer. Everyone knows she’s bedding him. You sure got a bee in your bonnet about it though.” Mueller stands, patting the door sill twice. “She’s pretty. Prettier than her mother was at that age. I don’t blame ya.”

Ducking, he peers at me again. “Month, and they’ll both be homeless. But if you want to speed the process, go by her west acreage and turn on the irrigation tonight.” He starts back towards the house. “Nothing leaf spot likes better than standing water.”