Devlin's Grace (11 page)

Devlin
went still, the way everything does just before a storm.
 
Gracie waited.
 
He didn’t twitch or move and the wind didn’t
seem to ruffle his hair.
  
If he drew
breath, it wasn’t apparent.
 
He just sat
- a virtual human statue.
 

A
few seconds passed, but he failed to move or speak.
 
Moments became minutes without change.
 
His expression remained solemn and
bland.
 
She began to tremble as a
floodtide of emotional pain erupted and swept through her so powerful her knees
knocked together.
 
With every ounce of
inner strength she possessed, Gracie willed herself not to cry and wondered if
she could succeed because this hurt ventured far beyond tears.
 
She prepared to surrender, to walk away when he
said her name.

“Gracie.”
His voice resonated with tenderness, soft and somehow sweet.
 
With trepidation tempered with the slightest
dash of hope, she met his gaze without blinking.

The
remote mask no longer existed.
 
Emotion
replaced apathy.
 
Devlin’s dark brown
eyes burned with an inner candlelight, warm and bright.
  
Tears heightened the effect and the
expression on his face reminded her of a sleepwalker who couldn’t quite accept
awakening.

As
he stared into her eyes, the air between them kindled with energy.
 
Power sang around her and Gracie reached
out.
 
Devlin raised his palm and she
touched it, her fingers very aware of the potent emotion present.
 
“If you love me…” He spoke in a husky voice.

“I
do,” Gracie said.

His
fingers brushed her lips. “Hush,” he said. “Let me say this.
 
If you love me, then it’s the best thing
that’s ever happened to me.
 
I don’t
deserve it, but I’m glad.
 
Gracie, you
make me hate myself less because you see some good in me.
 
To you, I’m not a devil or evil.
 
I wasn’t going to tell you because I didn’t
want to make you think you had to give back anything, but I love you, too.
 
I’ve loved you almost from the first
day.
 
I dreamed of a woman in Iraq, one who
looked a lot like you, but you’re better than she ever was.
 
I love you, babe, more than I know how to say
or show.”

Devlin’s
words penetrated her consciousness and her pain vanished.
 
In its place a brilliant joy rose, so bright
it blotted out everything else. Blinded by tears and joy, Gracie leapt at him
and he caught her in his arms.
 
He hugged
her against him and she wrapped her arms about him, tight.
 
She cried against his chest as he crooned
endearments to her, love words she cherished.
 
Her declaration of love banished his traumatic memory and after a time
they parted long enough to wash their faces.
 

Refreshed,
they linked hands.
 
In harmony, they
talked as they walked.
 
Devlin bought a
big bowl of homemade ice cream with fresh out of season strawberries.
 
They shared it, savoring the creamy delicious
taste.
 
He fed her from the spoon and
Gracie loved it.

“What
now?” he asked as they idled on the porch of one of the authentic old cabins in
the homestead part of the park, rocking in the shade. “Is there anything else
you want to ride or do?”

“We
need to pick up our old time picture,” Gracie said.
 

“Is
there anything else you want to do while we’re here?”

In
her mind, she gazed out over Branson, over all the theaters and attractions and
clutter.
 
Gracie imagined the usual
traffic snarls on 76 Country Boulevard and the lines for the best
restaurants.
 
“No,” she said. “I don’t
unless you do.”

Devlin
took her hand and stroked it.
 
His
fingers played up her arm.

“Nope.”

“Then
let’s go home and make love,” Gracie said.

A
grin blossomed across his face. “I like the idea,” he said. “Which place?”

Since
August, they’d divided their time at first one apartment then the other.
 
Once or twice Devlin hinted they should give
up one and share expenses.
 
Gracie liked
the idea, but she resisted change.
 
If
her parents made their once or twice a year visit, she’d have to explain, and
if she moved to his place, it made the trip to campus farther.
 
Although she’d promised to think about it,
she hadn’t.
 
But now Gracie promised herself
she would consider it.

“Yours,”
she said on impulse.
 
“But we need to
stop by mine so I can get some clothes and stuff.”

His
smile lit up her heart. “Planning to spend the night, babe?”

“If
you’ll let me,” she said teasingly.
 
So
far, she’d resisted.
 
He’d slept in her
apartment more than once, but most of the time, Devlin left before dawn.
 
And although Gracie visited his place, she’d
never spent the night before even though he’d asked if she would.

“Anytime
you like,” Devlin said. “Come on, I’ll go get the picture and we’ll hit the
road.”

On
the way out of the park, they lingered for a few minutes in the Ozark
Marketplace, a last ditch effort to sell merchandise.
 
As Gracie browsed a rack of clearance
t-shirts, she glanced up to find Devlin watching her with intent eyes.
 
“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,
I just like to look at you, darlin’.”

Flattered,
she smiled. “Why?”

“Any
woman loving me must be worth a second glance,” Devlin said. “So you really
love me?”

“Oh,
yeah,” Gracie said. “I love you, Dev.”

She
traced his lips with one finger and he kissed her, oblivious to other
customers.

All
the way back to Springfield she thought about the things she’d do with
Devlin.
 
The girl once embarrassed by any
mention of masturbation who wouldn’t admit to anyone she occasionally indulged in
the act now daydreamed about sensual pleasures.
  
Discovering new ways to delight Dev appealed
and so she spent more time than she should to find them.
 
At the bookstore, she’d spent more than a few
stolen moments reading some of the sexual help books and she bought her own
copy of
The Sensuous Woman.
  
Riding behind him on the bike, body
pressed against Devlin, Gracie entertained wicked thoughts from what she’d
read.
 
She planned a few things she
wanted to do, too.

 
As
they rode, though, her thoughts turned from the carnal to caring.
 
Gracie loved Devlin, body and soul.
 
When he cracked a smile, her heart danced
with joy.
 
Doing small things for him
delighted her and she wished she could somehow take away his burdens.
 
She enjoyed cooking the simplest dish for
him, fixing him a sandwich or making coffee.
 
Her urge to mend his shirts, rub his back, even bake his favorite cake
might go against the grain of most 21
^st
century women, but Gracie
didn’t care.
 
Call her old-fashioned, but
she wanted to do what she could for her man.
 
But she drew the line at picking up his dirty socks.

Every
shift she worked at the bookstore Gracie saw books she’d like to buy
Devlin.
 
At the discount and dollar shops
her fingers itched to toss items in the shopping cart for him, little things
like sunglasses or a candy bar or a back scratcher.
 
She resisted the urge to buy them.
 
Her budget didn’t stretch very far and until
now, Gracie feared he might somehow be offended although the times she
indulged, he liked the small tokens of affection.

Until
now, Gracie hadn’t considered he must share similar desires.
 
From the first, he’d watched over her like a
guardian angel, providing rides and watching out for her.
  
There’d been a few little surprises too,
like the ring he’d bought her in Eureka Springs.

As
each mile retreated behind them, Gracie wished he’d go even faster.
 
Her usual insecurities had blinded her to the
reality, but the knowledge Devlin loved her too empowered her.
   
She schooled herself to remember, though,
he wasn’t going to shape shift into a romance hero.
 
Devlin would remain Devlin, sometimes
taciturn, often brusque.
 
And, Gracie
mused, she wouldn’t want him any other way.

She
stuffed a duffel bag with a change of clothing, her nightgown, a pair of
slippers,
an
extra pair of sweat pants, her basic
toiletries, and the discount paperback she’d bought at work.
 
She picked up her the backpack with her
college books, too. When she hoisted both over one shoulder the combined weight
sagged so much she almost lost her balance.
 
Devlin took it from her with a sigh.

“Did
you pack enough stuff?” he asked, with one eyebrow lifted in query. “Good thing
I’m strong.
 
Hope it doesn’t tip the bike
over.”

Teasing
always made her defensive, but she tried not to whine when she said, “I need
all of it.”

Devlin’s
expression turned from amused to serious.
 
His dark eyes gazed down into hers. “Hey,” he said. “I know.
 
I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings.”

Even
though he had, a little, Gracie said, “You didn’t.”

She
didn’t think she fooled him because he frowned. “Okay.
 
Let’s go if you still want to come over.”

Gracie
managed a nod and locked the door behind them, worried now she might’ve tromped
right down the middle of their new and still fragile romance.
 
As if he read her mind, Devlin cupped her
chin in his left hand before they mounted the motorcycle. “Baby, don’t be
upset.
 
It’s been a long day and a good
one.
 
It’s a lot to process, but I love
you.”

His
three words revived her mood and she lifted up on tiptoe to steal a kiss.

Chapter Seven

Her
notions of a romantic evening included lit scented candles, a pair of chilled
wine glasses, and a bottle of good wine or even champagne.
 
Gracie’s dreams of chocolate covered strawberries
and shared bubble baths faded with speed.
  
Devlin’s place lacked a tub and as they entered to find the place in
total masculine disarray, she doubted he could offer any of the other amenities
either.

“I’m
sorry it’s such a mess,” Devlin said as he scooped up three or four dirty socks
from the living room floor.
 
He grabbed
two empty soda cans and a trio of empty beer bottles from the end table by the
couch, too.
 
“I’ve been lazy the last
couple of days and I wasn’t expecting company.”

“I
can tell,” Gracie said.
 
She wandered
into the kitchen and cringed.
 
Dirty
dishes stacked in the sink emitted a sour odor and the single trash can in one
corner stank.
 
Through the doorway, she
caught sight of his unmade bed, the covers in a tangle.
 
Two choices loomed – she could gripe about
the mess or she could help clean it up.
 
As a confirmed neat freak, Gracie put her bags down on the mostly clean
kitchen table and headed into the bedroom ready to put things to rights.
 
She stripped all the covers off and started
over, but when she caught sight of something in the corner, she halted.

“Hey, Devlin?”
Gracie called.

“Yeah.”

“Come
here for a second, would you?”

His
voice drifted back over the sound of water filling the sink in the kitchen.
“Sure, give me a minute.”

As
she waited, Gracie gazed at the image he’d captured on canvas.
 
A small girl with dark eyes and a sweet face
stared back, fragile as a young fawn.
 
Gracie guessed her age as six or less.
 
Devlin came into the room and stopped short. “Oh,” he said.

“Did
you paint her?” she asked. “Who is she? She’s lovely.”

He
twisted the dish cloth he held between his hands but didn’t flinch. “I don’t
know her name, but yeah, I painted her.
 
I killed her, too.”

A
tiny gasp escaped between her lips before Gracie could prevent it.
 
His calm admission shocked her and she
couldn’t figure out what to say.
 
Before
she floundered, Devlin sat down on the edge of the unmade bed.
 
“Sit down,” he said.
 
She joined him, wishing she’d never asked
about the watercolor. “I’m not going to freak out on you this time.
 
Don’t look so scared.”