Devlin's Grace (15 page)

The realization of what he
suggested sank into her consciousness.
 
Devlin grinned. “You don’t have those last expenses now, do you?”

Her smile echoed his in
brilliance. “I guess not.
 
And I’ve got
some savings.”

The last bank statement she
received confirmed a balance of just below two thousand dollars, the result of
many long, hard hours worked over the past summer.
  
Raised to count each penny, to search for
any bargains and cut every possible corner, it hadn’t occurred to Gracie until
now she might not have to work for awhile.
 
Once she got her degree, she hoped to find a better job, but for these
few months, she should be able to manage thanks to Devlin.

“Then quit,” he said. “I like the
idea of coming home to find you here.”

Those simple words spoke
volumes.
 
Gracie knew all too well how it
felt to come home alone to an empty space.
 
No one to talk to, gripe to, or share with sucked and she didn’t have
the demons he did to fight or the bad memories haunting her mind.
 
For a few moments, she weighted the options. Continue
to work in the bookstore, late evenings, crabby customers,
a
sometimes demanding supervisor. Or come home from classes, study, and spend
time with Devlin.
 
When Gracie put it
into those two options, there wasn’t any need for deliberation.

“I’ll do it,” she said happily.
“I’ll give my week’s notice tomorrow.”

No more late nights, yawning as
she re-shelved books, or wondering how she might get home.
 
She wouldn’t have to worry about Devlin,
whether she’d see him or hear from him.
 
Gracie sat up straight. “I need to find my cell phone.”

In all the drama, she’d forgotten
she couldn’t locate it earlier or that Devlin tried to phone.
 
They searched and he found it, finally, in the
front seat of the Ford where she’d left it.
 
It might’ve fallen out of her pocket, too.

“Let’s go to bed,” Devlin said
after she’d placed it on the charger.
 
His dark eyes smote her with desire and long before he touched her,
Gracie burned.

  
Rain drummed on the roof, constant and soothing as he came to her, this
time with tenderness.
 
Their slow
lovemaking conquered any lingering angst and blessed her arrival.
 
Devlin touched her with gentle fingers,
stroking her into both delight and submission.
 
They faced each other, nude on the bed, hands caressing the other’s
bodies.
 
Gracie touched each scar and
then traced the curve of his butt.
 
Devlin traced her spine, his touch so sensitive on her aroused flesh she
trembled with want.
 
Their mouths mingled
and when he slid into her, Devlin moved with the quiet certainty of a powerful
river.
 
He surged into her and they
joined, together more now than ever before.

Chapter
Nine

November rode in with the fury of
a Norse goddess, chill and blustery.
 
Grace’s final week at Barnes and Noble ended and she relished leaving
campus after her last class daily to go home.
 
Afternoons were study time, but she often cooked up something, too.
 
Devlin bought her a crock pot and she learned
to use it to make savory dishes, simple but satisfying.
 
She discovered where the nearest bus stops
were and bus times, but Devlin let her take the Ford whenever she wanted.
 
Living together revealed personality quirks
neither expected.
 
Gracie hadn’t realized
Devlin often fell asleep slumped on the couch or how much he wandered when he
couldn’t sleep.
 
At first the way he
prowled the small apartment bothered her, but she adapted.
 
So far, her parents didn’t know she’d moved
or where, but with Thanksgiving ahead Gracie thought she should tell them.
 
She wanted to go home for the holiday and
take Devlin with her, but he’d resisted the notion so far.
 
Unwilling to leave him on his own, Gracie
struggled to think of a way to convince him to come to the farm, too.

Most days Gracie stopped by the
supermarket on the way home from class.
 
If she waited for Devlin to do the shopping, he’d wouldn’t until there
wasn’t a crumb of food in the place.
 
 
One Wednesday afternoon, a day and a week
before Thanksgiving, sleet skittered down from a slate gray sky and she didn’t
go the market.
 
Two thick pork chops
simmered in the crock pot at home and Gracie didn’t think they needed
anything.
 
She snuggled on the corner of
the couch wearing thick socks, working on her final term paper and waited for
Devlin.
 

Before he arrived, Gracie
realized she hadn’t bought anything he could pack in his lunch to work the next
day. Although he didn’t mind picking up something at the store, she liked
preparing a sandwich or something.
 

Reluctant to brave the weather
for another store trip, Gracie searched the kitchen until she found a can of
tuna, a lonely egg, a dab of mayonnaise, and enough seasonings to stir up some
tuna salad.
 
Although she didn’t care for
it, Devlin liked it, so she put together a batch for him.
 

Devlin arrived home late.
 
From the moment he walked through the door,
Gracie noted how exhausted he seemed.
 
Over supper, he revealed it hadn’t been a good day at work either.
 
As security, he often caught shoplifters of all
ages.
 
Depending on the value of the
stolen items, perpetrators might get a warning, be barred from the particular
Wal-Mart store, or be prosecuted.
 
Repeat
offenders or obvious thieves were fair game, but he hated the innocent victims
of circumstance.

“One of the people I caught was
an old lady,” he told Gracie at the table. “She had to be eighty at least.
 
She’d tucked several things into her purse,
swore she did it so she wouldn’t lose them on the way to the checkouts.
 
I’d probably just let her go, but the store
manager had other ideas.
 
He didn’t give
a shit about the packets of sewing needles or even the paperback romance.
 
What sent him over the top was the nice
watch.
 
Poor old gal’s somebody’s mom and
grandma so it was a helluva thing.”

“They turned her over to the
police?” Gracie asked, with disbelief.

“Yeah.”
Devlin sighed.
 
“Both the old lady and the teenage girl got
busted and charged.
 
The teen took
make-up and perfume, but the damn perfume was expensive.
 
The law’s the law and the company rules stand,
but the kid swore she just took the stuff for a date with her boyfriend.
 
I believe her, but I couldn’t do a damn thing
to help.”

“Honey, I’m sorry.” It wasn’t
adequate at all, but Gracie couldn’t do anything to change what happened.

“Yeah, thanks,” Devlin said. “It
made for a long ass day and coming home, the roads were just slick enough to
cause me to slide at a couple traffic lights.
 
I thought sure some guy was going to hit me.
 
He wasn’t paying attention.”

One of Gracie’s worst fears
involved Devlin having an accident on the motorcycle.
 
Each time she caught a news report about a
fatality or even a slide with injuries, she worried.
 
“Devlin,” she said now. “You can take the car
so it’s safer.
 
I’ll ride the bus.”

For the first time since coming
home grumpy and worn out, Devlin smiled at her. “Naw, babe,” he said. “It’s
okay.
 
Nothing’s going to happen to me,
not now. I’ve already had my share of shit in this life.”

As she got up to bring more corn
to the table, Gracie paused and kissed him. “Good, because I couldn’t stand it
if anything bad happened.”

He scrubbed his face with both
hands and yawned. “I’ll be fine if I just get some sleep.”

Despite her presence, Devlin
continued to struggle with sleep.
 
Sometimes, in her arms or with her hand offering silent succor, he slept
for longer periods, but many nights, Dev slept in brief fits, waking with
nightmares.
 
Too often he wandered
through the apartment, restless, and sometimes Gracie found him dozing on the
couch.
 
He refused to consider sleeping
pills of any kind and over the weeks, she’d become more accustomed to his
nocturnal rambles, although she tried to coax him to sleep whenever she could.

“We can go to bed early,” Gracie said.
“I’m tired, too.
 
It’s the weather,
partly.”

“Yeah,” Devlin said. “I don’t
like the cold much.”

In recent weeks, Gracie had learned
in addition to his burns and obvious scars, Devlin also had suffered a few
broken or cracked bones.
 
When temperatures
dropped, he often hurt but seldom complained.
 
She would hazard a guess most people around him never noticed, but
Gracie, tuned to his needs, did.

Earlier than usual, they retired
for the night, curled up together in one of Gracie’s favorite positions, like
two spoons tucked together in a cutlery drawer.
 
She woke to find him absent just twice and thought he must’ve gained
some rest.
 
Devlin overslept a little and
hurried to make it to work, cursing and crashing as he got around.
 
Gracie didn’t have an early class, but she
got up anyway and kissed him, lingering at the door.

“I’ll see you tonight,” she said.
“Be careful.”

Dev nodded. “Yeah, watch it
driving to school.
 
Love you, girl.”

No matter how many times he told
her, the words always evoked a smile. “I love you, too.”

Gracie’s morning crawled.
 
Her classes dragged and when she learned her
early afternoon class had been cancelled, she welcomed the chance to head
home.
 
She planned to finish her paper,
due within the week.
 
Sooner or later,
she’d need to go grocery shopping, but she headed home first.
 
As soon as she pulled up, she saw Devlin’s
motorcycle and frowned.
 
If he was home,
something must be skewed because he never arrived until around four, at the
earliest.
 

She let herself into the
apartment and called, “Dev?”

Then she saw him on the
couch.
 
Devlin lay on his right side
facing the television, knees bent in an almost fetal position.
 
His eyes were closed, his face ashen, paler
than the white pillowcase he rested his head against.
 
Haggard lines in his face aged him ten years,
but he opened his eyes at the sound of her voice.
 
“Gracie?” he said in a puny tone.

“Yeah, it’s me,” she replied.
“Devlin, what’s the matter? You look awful.”

“I’m sick,” he said.
 
As if to prove it, his body convulsed and his
face shifted as he lifted up on one elbow.
 
Gracie hadn’t seen the wastebasket parked beside the couch until Devlin
retched into it with a horrible moan.
 
He
heaved and gagged, but not much came up.
 

She reacted with speed.
 
Before he’d finished, she hurried to the
kitchen, doused a clean towel with cool water and returned.
  
As he lay back, breathing hard, she wiped
his face with it, then his hands.
 
Spotting a half empty soda pop bottle on the floor, she picked it up and
offered him a drink to rinse the nasty taste from his mouth.
 

Devlin managed a sip and sank back
with a groan, one hand clutching his stomach.

Gracie brushed back hair from his
face and checked for fever.
 
His skin
wasn’t hot, though, cool and damp.
 
“I’m
sorry, Dev,” she said. “There must be something going around.”

He shook his head. “I think its
food poisoning.”

They’d eaten the same things so
she doubted it and opened her mouth to say so.
 
Then she remembered the tuna salad she’d made.
 
“Oh, my God,” Gracie said. “It must’ve been
the tuna salad or I’d be sick too.
 
Did
you eat some?”

“At my first break,” Devlin said.
“I started feeling sick less than an hour later.
 
Puked up my guts three times before I decided
I should come home.”

“It’s my fault,” Gracie said.
“Oh, Devlin, I’m sorry.”

“Can it,” he said, “It’s
not.
 
You didn’t do it on purpose.”

No, she hadn’t, but she’d still
made him terribly sick. “Would you be more comfortable in the bedroom?” she
asked, wanting to make everything all better, knowing she really couldn’t.