Restoration (4 page)

Chapter 4

Drew craned his neck as he ran, looking for the telltale swing of the deep, coffee-colored hair that Grace McConnell kept high on her head while running. He wasn’t stalking her, he hoped, but he needed to see her. His running schedule, once a strict lunchtime activity, had altered, based on one chance encounter.

Due to an emergency adjustment in staffing at the grocery, his hours had shifted from early to late. Still trying to acclimate, he’d woken with the sun and decided to start his day with a run rather than skip it all together. That was when his world had shifted. He’d changed from a man, mildly interested, to confused, flustered, and achingly obsessed.

His mind spun with thoughts of her, visions of her gorgeous mouth, formed in an
O
of surprise when she’d almost knocked him arse-over-teakettle for the second time. He felt lust rising at the memory and bumped up the volume of his music for distraction. He wasn’t an early morning runner as a rule, but after seeing Grace that first morning, he’d told himself mornings weren’t so bad.

I’m
not a stalker
, he kept reminding himself
.

He scanned the footpath and kept up his pace.

His phone buzzed and he sighed in frustration as he pulled it out of his pocket to see an incoming call from Sarah. Again. He hit the
ignore
button and put his phone back. Part of him was annoyed to have her bothering him constantly since her latest break up. The egotistical part of him, however, was boosted by the knowledge of her interest after all this time. They’d been divorced almost six years now and the hurt was still there, reaffirmed every time she tried to worm her way back into his life. He knew the best tactic in her case was radio silence. Her manipulative ways usually threw his life into a tailspin.

Disappointment seeped in as he reached the half-way mark and headed home. He wanted to see Grace, needed a glimpse of her perfection. Their brief interactions were the highlight of his days.

Rounding a corner, his breath caught in his chest. She was there. Beautiful, bathed in the golden rays of the early morning light, stretching her back with her arms raised high above her head. He slowed as he approached. Her eyes were closed as she clearly enjoyed the stretch. When she opened them, a wave of arousal shot straight through him.
Wanker,
he thought as she trained her eyes on his. He squirmed slightly, wondering if she could sense his ungentlemanly thoughts.

“Morning.” He had to work to get the simple greeting past his lips.

“Morning, Drew. Nice to see you.” Her eyes were tense. It seemed as though she was trying too hard to talk to him, as if having contact was painful. She was so puzzling.

“You as well, Grace.” He stood there, taking in her fitted running clothes, pink trainers, and matching top. Her hips swayed enticingly as she walked past him. He wanted to ask if he could join her, even though he’d already finished a five-mile run. His hands itched to brush aside a piece of her hair, which had come loose from her ponytail, wanting to feel her skin to see if it was as soft as it looked. He wished she wasn’t so skittish. Not understanding why she wouldn’t say more than a few words was killing him.

Ask her out. Go on.

Before she got out of his view, he mustered all of his courage and shouted, “Have dinner with me?”

She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. “What?”

“Dinner? You, me?”

“I understand the concept, Drew.” Her face was a carefully composed mask.

“I just, well, I thought it might be nice. You know, a proper chat.”

Grace pondered his words for what seemed like a millennium. “I guess that would be fine.”

He forced himself to control the ridiculous grin spreading across his mouth. “Brilliant. Tomorrow night? I’ll come round to get you.”

She nodded, a slight hint of bemusement on her face. “That sounds nice. Around seven?”

“Right, yes. I’ll see you then.”

“I’m this way so . . .” She gestured awkwardly in the opposite direction he was going. “Um, have a nice day,” she called, smiling too brightly.

“Ta,” he responded, slightly breathless.

He watched her leave, knowing he was done for. He wanted her. All of her. There was no possibility of him keeping his hands off her. Fingers clenched, he thought of the curves encased in those tight running pants, her breasts pressing against her shirt as she stretched, lifting the fabric slightly to show a toned belly and a tucked-in waist. He groaned as his mind and heart zeroed in on the same thing.

“Oh, bleeding hell,” he said as he shook his head and jogged back to his house for another cold shower.

“Dinner? You’ve
got a date?” Valerie was clearly shocked. “With Drew?”

Grace’s face flamed. “Yes. No. No, I don’t think it’s a date. He just wants to have a
proper chat
.”

Valerie smirked. “It’s totally a date!”

“Just shut up and help me find something to wear.”

She rifled through her drawers, searching for something that didn’t scream
date
, but wasn’t too
professional architect
. She finally settled on a thin sweater in deep burgundy over a pair of black cropped pants. Her hair was not so easily managed. After struggling with the unruly waves, she gave up and piled it on top of her head in a messy bun.

“You look hot. Keep your hair down, though. It’s so pretty.” Valerie was rummaging under Grace’s bed, searching for the right shoes.

Frustration and an uneasy feeling took hold. “Don’t you think this is kind of weird?”

Valerie’s blond head popped up over the edge of the bed. “What?”

“Come on. He looks just like John.”

She shrugged. “That’s just a bonus. What’s the harm in getting to know the guy? It’s not like you’re marrying him. Maybe it will help you move past John.”

Grace considered the question for a moment. “I guess you’re right. I just think it’s weird.” She lowered her eyes and picked at her cuticles. “How am I supposed to move on if I fall for him all over again?”

Valerie plopped down on the bed, leopard-print platform wedges in her hands. “Look, it’s only as weird as you make it. From what I’ve seen, he’s a very nice guy who just happens to look exactly like John. You’re not falling for John again. That’s already happened. The real question is, does it hurt too much to look at him? Yes, it’s a strange coincidence. But you need to decide if it’s too painful to be with him. Either way, you need to get out there, meet people, make friends. Stop working so much and enjoy your life.”

Sometimes Valerie could be so insightful. Grace’s heart thudded against her chest as she thought of Val’s question.
Does it hurt too much?

A light knock on the door sent shivers of apprehension through her as she crossed the living room to answer the door. Drew looked amazing and so much like John her breath hitched. Dressed in a deep-blue corduroy blazer, a white button-down shirt, and jeans, he looked more put together than she’d ever seen him. His hair was still haphazardly tousled, but it looked like he’d put in some effort to tame it. She smiled at the memory of John trying desperately to flatten his disobedient hair in the weeks between haircuts.

“Grace, you look lovely.” Drew’s expression melted her heart and banished all thoughts of John. His eyes were wide and filled with an innocent look of wonder.

“Thanks. You look nice, too.”

“Shall we, then?” He reached for her arm and sent a warm smile in Valerie’s direction. “Hello, Valerie.”

Valerie grinned and waved. “See you later. Have fun!”

Drew took her to a small Indian restaurant called Nirvana. The air was warm and smelled of delicious spices and curry, the close quarters increasing the intense aroma.

“This place is so tiny. I didn’t even know it was here.” She marveled at the setting. The space only housed five tables and was completely full.

“There’s more upstairs. That’s where we’re going.”

“Upstairs?” She followed him up the steep staircase to a rooftop dining area. The room was enclosed in glass, affording a view of the town around them. The tables were filled with diners, happily eating their meals and enjoying conversation.

“I hope you like Indian. I took a chance.”

“Never had it,” she admitted.

“Well, I think this is one of the best.”

Drew helped her decide what to order, insisting they get samosas. As they waited for their food to arrive, the conversation dwindled to the uncomfortable silence of an awkward first date.

“So, how long have you lived in Braley?”

“All my life, really.”

“Hmm. I’m from a small town, too.”

Drew pulled at his earlobe. “Do you like it here?”

“Yes. It’s charming.”

“Good, good.”

This is bordering on ridiculous. Please let the food come soon.
She shifted uncomfortably.

“Sorry. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date.” Five years to be exact. She fought the blush creeping up her cheeks.

“For me, too. I’ve always been rubbish at it.”

That made her laugh. “It’s the most awkward thing ever, right?”

“Bloody awful!”

Their food arrived and somewhere amidst the trial and error of experiencing new tastes, Grace forgot her unease. A weight lifted from her as she began letting loose and enjoying herself.

“Mmm. So good,” she moaned around a bite of samosa.

“They’re my favorite. Crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside, with just a touch of spice.”

“Thanks for taking me here. I’m not a very adventurous eater.”

“My pleasure.”

As Drew walked her home, she felt anticipation bubble up. They approached her doorstep in silence, the awkward tension rearing its ugly head again.

“Goodnight, Drew. Thanks for dinner.” Her eyes flitted everywhere but toward his.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself. I’d like to take you out again soon.”

He leaned in then, the scent of his clean skin making it hard for her to concentrate.

Oh, God, he’s going to kiss me!

Panic rose and she made a quick move, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Night,” she squeaked as she rushed to open her door. She winced as it slammed behind her. Her heart was racing and her breathing was heavy. She felt the solid wood against her back as she slid down to rest on the floor.

“That bad?”

Grace opened her eyes to see bright, pink painted toes in front of her. “No, he was going to kiss me.”

Valerie crouched down. “Too weird, then?”

“A little. I panicked.”

Valerie grabbed Grace’s hands and pulled her up. “Come on. Let’s have some wine and you can tell me all about it.”

Chapter 5

Saturday morning greeted Grace with a beautiful sunrise, making her glad she’d decided to go for an extra-long run. Still on edge from her date with Drew earlier in the week, she needed to think things through. She’d started before the sun had begun to crest over the rolling hills surrounding the town. She shivered a little in the chilly air, but it was bearable as her strides brought her back from an invigorating seven-mile run. Her muscles trembled slightly and she was dripping with sweat. As she approached the town square, her phone buzzed on her arm. It was a message from Valerie.

Heading out to London for the day with Mick. See you tonight. ; )

Grace rolled her eyes as she read the text and observed the
winky-face
. Valerie was becoming quite popular with the construction crew, causing Grace to take on the role of big sister; constantly keeping an eye out for trouble where her friend was concerned. Grace might have been out of the dating pool for a while, but she’d experienced her fair share of good looking jerks during her twenties. She searched her memory for what she knew of Mick. Nice guy, kind of dumb, good looking, and very into Valerie.

The worry ebbed as she came around the bend and saw their little cottage on the corner of Baker Street. Valerie was just stepping out of the house. She waved and smiled as Grace came up the walk.

“Hey, we were just on our way out. Want to join us?”

She considered the invitation, took one look at Valerie’s face and realized it was just a half-hearted consideration. “Nah, I’ve got stuff to do. You have fun. Bring me back something.”

“Have a good day. Try not to break anyone’s eggs.”

Grace rolled her eyes and walked into the house, ready for a nice hot bath and a cup of coffee. She locked the door and set her phone on the speaker dock in her bathroom. Turning on the singer-songwriter station, she set about preparing her coffee. Coffee to her had always been a process rather than an instant gratification exercise. She loved the task of boiling water in the kettle while grinding the beans. The smell of freshly ground coffee filled the room, the aroma heavenly. After the kettle started to whistle, she poured the hot water into her French press, watching the dark grounds at the bottom swirl and fizz at the top. She let it brew for a few minutes while she ran a steaming hot bath with a generous helping of bubbles added to it. When she returned, the grounds were settling, so she pushed the filter down as far as it would go and poured herself a large cup of delicious black coffee. She grabbed a magazine and headed—coffee in hand—to her waiting bathtub.

The heat of the water soothed her sore hamstrings. She realized her run had been quite a bit longer than intended and she’d forgotten to stretch afterward. As she sipped her coffee and flipped through the magazine, she couldn’t help but think again about how much Drew and John looked alike.

Her mind kept going over and over the details of his face. The eyes and brows were the real clincher. She’d spent many long moments looking into John’s eyes, searching for what? Love, she supposed; answers maybe. He was always loving and gentle and kind, but he was also guarded and slightly closed off. She could recall many conversations which had begun lightheartedly and ended with him shutting down, changing the subject, or trying to redirect her. That was why learning of his plan to propose had been so shocking and painful. Anytime they’d talked about the future, their plans, or the idea of starting a family, he’d withdrawn.

Grace was still soaking in the hot water, with a steaming washcloth on her face, a half-hour later when she heard her front bell ring. She glanced at the clock.
Who the hell is at my door this early in the morning on a Saturday?

Soaking wet and dripping bubbles, she wrapped herself in a terrycloth robe and cautiously answered the door. She hid her body behind the big wooden door and poked her head around the side to see who it was. Her eyes went wide as she saw Drew. He held a grocery box full of produce. Her heart leapt in excitement.

“Uh . . . I think you’ve got the wrong house, Drew.”

He took in her flushed skin and dripping hair. “Did I come at a bad time? You look a little, um, busy.” His ears went charmingly pink at the tips.

“I was in the bath. It’s only eight-thirty in the morning, you know.” Her gaze went to the package in his hands. “Why do you have a box of vegetables?”

“Valerie came in this morning and ordered them, said you’d been asking for vegetables all week, but hadn’t had the chance to come to the shop. She told me to deliver them straight-away.”

She stared blankly and he squirmed uncomfortably in the silence.

“Erm, can I bring this in for you?”

She nodded and opened the door all the way for him to enter with the large box. She watched as he eyed her wet, clingy robe, then flushed when he realized he’d been caught.

“I’ll just, uh, go change. There’s coffee on the counter if you want some.”

“No thanks.” He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t drink sludge. I’d love a nice cuppa though. Do you mind if I put the kettle on?”

She paused for a moment.
Cuppa?
She thought on the word momentarily and it dawned on her.
Tea, right.
“No, no problem. The water’s probably still hot. The tea tin is on the counter by the sink.”

She skirted past him as quickly as she could. Flames of embarrassment crept up her face as she realized she was in her robe with someone she barely knew in the room. Looking exactly like John made it hard for her to remember she didn’t know him at all. Her mind was a jumbled mess of emotions as she quickly pulled on a pair of dark jeans and a deep-green fitted sweater. Her hair was loose and fragrant from the shampoo Valerie had given her to use. She took a deep breath and padded softly into the hall toward the kitchen.

His tea steeped in a mug emblazoned with
Likes Time Lords
in big, bold black letters. Grace leaned against the wall and watched him move about her kitchen, unloading the groceries and adding milk and sugar to his tea, just like he owned the place.

“
Likes Time Lords
, huh? I would’ve pegged you more for a
Harry Potter
fan,” she said from behind him, startling him in mid-sip.

“Do you even know what a Time Lord is, you Yankee?” he teased.

She feigned astonishment. “We have BBC America, you know. I’ve seen
Doctor Who
.”

He grinned and was obviously glad to see her smiling back. She was relieved to be interacting without anyone getting knocked over or anything being broken.

“So what’s all this then?” he asked, gesturing at the stack of blueprints, official documents, forms, and more forms cluttering her dining nook and most of the kitchen counters.

“Oh, just work. You must think I’m a complete slob. I don’t have a real office right now and I have so much paperwork to deal with. My job is two-thirds paperwork.”

“What
is
your job, exactly?”

She raised her eyebrows. “I’m an architect. I specialize in historical restoration of buildings. Your town is one of the few remaining villages from the Tudor monarchy. I’m here to help restore the town properly, and make it a stop on the historical tourism track. Us
Yankees
really love to spend money in quaint British towns like this one.”

He looked at her for a moment and nodded. “Good, good. We need you. Have you seen the church? It’s falling into ruin.”

“I haven’t gotten to the church yet. I’ve only been hired to help with the row of homes on Kensington.”

“How long are you here for?”

“At least a year. More, if I’m needed and still wanted.”

“I’m sure you’ll be wanted,” he said, his voice catching slightly.

She blushed fiercely at his statement and abruptly turned away, pouring herself another cup of coffee. Her arm brushed against his as she put the French press back on the counter. He took a deep breath and she turned to look at him, coffee in hand.

“You smell wonderful.” Drew’s voice was soft as he reached up to touch her damp hair.

“It’s my roommate’s. I need to buy some new stuff.”

She licked her lips as she brought the mug to her mouth, then noticed his eyes locked on hers when she ran her tongue along her bottom lip. Drew’s hands moved smoothly toward her and before she could stop him, he took her cup and set it on the counter.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He took her face in his large hands and crushed his lips against hers. The kiss was strong at first, mellowing into something more tender, exploratory.

She made no move to stop him, in fact she was so wrapped up in the feeling of his mouth on hers, she almost forgot the real reason she was attracted to him. Her mind was overcome by the sensations of her body next to his—even the scent of him was familiar. She groaned softly as he lightly ran his tongue along her upper lip, begging entrance. She pulled away and gently kissed his lips once. Her hands had found their way into his mass of unruly hair and she relished the feeling of her fingers entwined in the strands.

“Hello,” he said, eyes bright.

“Hey,” she whispered, then cleared her throat as she stepped away. “You should probably go. Thank you for delivering the groceries. It was, um, nice to see you again.”

Sadness crept in as soon as she said the words. She had no idea how this could work. This man—a completely different man—had John’s face, body, and he even kissed like him. How could she entertain the idea of being with him? It would be a betrayal to both Drew and John.

Hot tears threatened to fill her eyes as she heard the front door close. She moved about her kitchen, clearing up the mugs and cleaning out the French press. She stopped and placed her hands on either side of the sink to steady herself.

She took a shuddering breath and wiped at her eyes.

Drew’s head spun with thoughts of Grace; her l
ips, her soft moan against him. He needed a minute to recover from the intense kiss they’d shared. After she’d thrown him out of her house, ridiculously aroused and rumpled, he’d tried to go over it in his mind. He needed to know what he’d done wrong. He remembered the feeling of her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling slightly and sending shivers down his spine.

Where did it go pear-shaped?

He wracked his brain, trying to figure out what had happened to cause her to chuck him on his ear faster than he could catch his breath.

It was early in the day, the morning crowd of shoppers would be arriving soon and he had buckets of paperwork to get sorted before he placed his produce order for the following week. Sighing, he walked back to Ten’s, still confused, still aroused, and still thinking of Grace.

“Oi, what do you reckon, son?” his dad called from the doorway to the office.

The business office of his family’s grocery was seated on the upper level, with a window looking down on the entire store. Drew had the window put in about a year after he took over. He was able to keep an eye on things while taking care of business matters. That kept kids with sticky fingers out of trouble.

“Sorry, she wasn’t expecting me and I had to wait while she dressed.” His ears went pink at the memory of her form in the damp robe.

His dad’s face made him blush even deeper as he realized what had come from his mouth. “She made me tea. I stayed, we had a chat, I’m here now.”

“She make the tea with her clothes on?”

“Bloody hell, Dad! Yes, with her clothes on.”

“All right, all right. Don’t get your knickers in a knot. She’s an American, after all. They might do things differently.” Laughing, he stepped past Drew and headed down into the store. “Sarah’s been phoning in again, son. Best figure out what the plan is for that one. I can only put her off so long.”

Drew waved off his dad and busied himself with invoices and purchase orders for the next few hours. His mind, however, needed constant redirection from thoughts of Grace and the persistent buzzing of his phone in his pocket. Sarah was not letting go this time and his chest tightened at the thought she might show up unannounced.

It was time for a tea break when Drew, frustrated and irritable, got up to stretch and headed out to run a few errands he’d been neglecting. Living in a small town definitely had its advantages. He loved being able to walk practically anywhere he needed to go. As he picked up his post and some meds for his mum, he saw Grace—her dark hair tumbling in waves down her back—walk into the library. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the need for a book, any book, for the chance of another run-in.

The delicious smell of her hair haunted him and the feel of her soft curves as she’d pressed against him caused his fingers to itch with the need to touch her.