Restoration (8 page)

Chapter 9

“Oi, mate! All right? Let’s get this show on the road,” Alec called to Drew from the doorway. “Missy will be pissed good and proper before we even get a pint in if you don’t hurry it up.”

Drew finished doing up the buttons on his faded denim shirt. He glanced in the mirror, giving himself the quick once-over. He looked good. A night out with his mates was just what he needed to get his head straight. He’d not been able to get Grace out of his mind, and their snogging session a few weeks back just intensified the feeling. He wanted to be near her every second and it was driving him mad. He felt slightly giddy at the idea of escaping her magnetic pull on him, if only for a moment.

The group standing in front of him was a ridiculous bunch of crap footballers. There were five of them all together. Stuart, Mark, Bryan, and Alec, the groom, all looked as if they’d already started the festivities without him. Stuart, who was a bit on the round side, out of shape, and a terrible drunk, belched and grinned. His cheeks were reddened by the effects of the alcohol he’d obviously consumed.

Drew cocked an eyebrow. “Started without me?”

“Pfft.” Stuart waved a hand at him. “Didn’t expect us to wait all bloody night for a greengrocer, did ya?”

Mark rolled his eyes at his stocky friend. “We’ve only had a few pints. Stu, on the other hand, has taken it upon himself to be the first of us to be sick all over someone.”

“All right, you sod, let’s go.” Drew pushed Stuart down the walk toward the first pub in their path.

They were smashed by the time they finally caught up with Missy and her hen-night party. His group must have stopped at four pubs since beginning their shambling adventure toward drunkenness. Drew couldn’t keep going like the rest of them. His lanky build left him little tolerance for excessive alcohol, and five pints was bordering on excessive for him. The place they were meant to meet Missy was the town’s only karaoke bar and he grimaced at the thought of listening to bad covers of Beyoncé.

The club—for a pub it was not—was dimly lit, smoky, and loud. His head began hurting the moment he walked inside and was assaulted by the smell of sweat and stale cigarette smoke. He and Mark hung back, observing the scene, while the rest of the party was already entangled with Missy’s hen-night.

Mark shot a keen glance his way and grinned. “Come on, old chap. Let’s get you a drink.”

Drew caught a glimpse of the women already out of control and taking over the karaoke stage. He waved away the drink offer and headed for a seat as far from the speakers as possible. That was when he saw the familiar sway of Grace’s hips as she walked with Valerie to a table in the center of the room.

His breath sped as he took in the tight jeans showcasing her gorgeous ass. Dark locks of hair spilled down her back enticingly, just begging to have his hands tangled in it. He smiled at the turn the evening had just taken and decided to take Mark up on that pint after all.

His buddy followed his gaze as he brought their pints back from the bar. “Ah, I see what’s brought you around.” The grin on his face caused Drew’s ears to burn. “The sharks are circling, mate.”

He’d already noticed the other men as they caught sight of Grace, her unassuming sexiness incredibly alluring. She, for her part, was oblivious to the world around her. She picked at her cuticles and looked generally uninterested in her surroundings. He had to beat down the surge of excitement at the thought of her lack of attention to any of the men in the room.

“Go on, then. You said things were moving along with her. Go get her.” Mark nudged him forward.

“Drew! Drew!” He heard her before she crashed into him, wrapping her little body around his in an unusual gesture of familiarity.

“Val. Hello.” He laughed as she pulled herself upright and turned to the bar to collect two drinks.

She smiled and swayed slightly on her heels. “Grace will be so happy to see you. She needs some hot man-cake action.”

His eyebrows rose as he took in her words. Fighting a blush, he took a sip of his beer. “Man-cake, eh?”

“Oh yeah, she needs it. It’s been a long time, and she gets so cranky.”

Valerie was clearly drunk and apparently alcohol made her chatty. He grinned and took the drinks from her, setting his own on the bar.

“Oh, no-no-no. You go over there,” she said, pointing in the direction of Grace’s table. “I’ve got meddling to do. I’ll be back with these in a few minutes. Keep her company.”

He nodded, laughing at this little bit of a woman who somehow managed to steer everyone the way she wanted them to go.

He picked up his beer and headed toward Grace.

While she waited in th
e noisy bar, Grace turned her attention to the group of girls, obviously part of a bachelorette party, as they piled up on the stage. They launched into a Spice Girls song, which was barely discernible through all of their giggling.

She wanted a drink, badly. Karaoke was a guilty pleasure for her, but she needed a little more liquid courage to actually get on stage.

“Taking a break from the Tudor family, eh?”

A soft, deep voice in her ear sent a shiver up her spine. The hair on the back of her neck stood when his breath tickled her skin and a flash of heat crept up her face. She smiled and turned to look into dark eyes, glittering with amusement.

Drew took the seat next to hers and sat his beer down on the table.

“Yes. I was feeling a bit murderous. Too much Henry, not enough Spice Girls.” She gestured toward the drunken women and their microphones.

“I don’t know if this is going to help or hurt.” He looked with a grimace at the stage.

“What are you doing here? Are you a closet karaoke champion?”

He laughed and shook his head. “No way. One of my mates is getting married on Sunday. I’m here for his stag night. That’s his lovely bride up there now.”

He winced as the bride toppled off the stage, her veil with glowing penises flying out behind her.

“Nice.” She tried to suppress her laughter. “Well, don’t let me take you away from your fabulous evening.” She was offering him an out and trying to disguise the twinge of disappointment in her voice.

Drew took a drink of his beer and smiled. “No way. You’re not getting away from me now. I’ve not gotten to see you nearly as much as I’d like to. They won’t miss me. I’m pretty sure these blokes are all so pissed they won’t be making it any farther than here tonight anyway.”

“Who has their bachelor and bachelorette nights on a Thursday?”

“Ah, well the bride there, she didn’t want him to get out of control without her and this was the only day they could do it. They’re umm . . . an interesting lot.”

“Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”

“Me? No, I’m taking the day off.”

His boyish smile was irresistible. Grace leaned in and pressed a light kiss to his lips. When she pulled away, there was a lemon drop martini in front of her and Valerie was seated on the other side of the table, grinning from ear to ear.

“What took you so long?” Grace asked.

“You’ll see.” Valerie’s smile didn’t falter as she took a sip of her cosmopolitan.

Grace had a sinking feeling she knew what was coming. She looked at Drew and raised her glass.

Two lemon drops later, she was drunk. She wasn’t out of control or sick, just pleasantly floating on the alcohol in her system. In the back of her mind, she knew she should either stop drinking or eat something.

As Valerie arrived with a third round of cocktails, Grace pushed the thought out of her mind. Drew had gone back to his party for the next round of pints, just as the DJ called Grace to the stage.

“What did you do?”

“You’ll see. You know this one, I promise. Work it.” Valerie cheered loudly when the DJ called her name again and Grace headed toward the tiny stage.

Drew winked as she stepped up to the microphone, unsure of the song Valerie had picked. The familiar opening of . . .
Baby One More Time
began and she laughed as the crowd groaned.

She smiled to herself, letting go of her inhibitions and deciding to go for it. She was a good singer; she’d been in choir all through high school and a regular at her college karaoke bar. She also remembered this music video very well. It was all naughty schoolgirl and innuendo.

As she started her performance, her nerves dissipated and she began to move with the music. She locked eyes with Drew and almost forgot the words when he licked his lower lip. He sat with his eyes wide and his attention glued to her. She swiveled her hips with the music and focused on him, emulating a sexually repressed Catholic schoolgirl as well as she could. Blame it on the drinks, or the way Drew’s eyes were searing her own; she felt sexy.
Eat your heart out, Britney.

When the song was over, the crowd was quiet for a breath. Then the bar filled with whooping and cheering from the stag night and light applause from the bachelorette party. She quickly became aware of her surroundings and blushed all the way to her toes. Drew raked his fingers through his hair, took her hand, and helped her down from the stage.

“Mate, if
you
don’t take her home,
I will
,” one of the members of the stag night said.

Drew shot him a steely glare and put his hand possessively on her lower back as he rushed her out of the bar and around the corner. The night air was chilly and her coat was still inside.

“Drew, what are you doing? It’s cold out here.”

Drew pushed her back against the wall of the building behind her. His eyes were burning dark pools.

“Good God, Grace.” His voice was hoarse as he hoisted her up so her face was level with his.

She instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips and tilted her mouth to meet him.

It had been two weeks since the storm, and their dinner dates were usually rushed. All they were able to do together was eat and say goodnight. Light kisses and gentle touches over the course of their evenings culminated in a rush of pent-up desire.

The tension between them crackled like static electricity. His hands tangled in her hair as their lips met; her hips ground against him while his tongue slipped into her mouth. She was vaguely aware of the cold brick wall pressing uncomfortably into her back, but didn’t mind enough to change the situation.

She took Drew’s full lower lip between her teeth and sucked on it. He tasted faintly of beer and peppermint, an unusual combination. He growled low in his throat and pushed his hips against her, his arousal plainly obvious.

“I need to get you home. With me. Now,” he said against her lips.

She nodded as he placed her feet on the ground. She was so aroused she could barely walk from the daze. What was she going to tell Valerie? Her worry abated as soon as she stepped back into the bar. Her friend was surrounded by the bachelor party and had apparently become part of the bachelorette group. Grace caught her eye and waved as she grabbed her coat and purse off the chair at their table. Valerie gave her a knowing look and waved back.

Her heart pounded in her chest as they walked the four blocks from the pub to Drew’s house. They were silent the whole way, his hand encircling hers. She was comforted by the small circular motion he was making with his thumb on her palm.

As they started up the steps to the front door, he turned and looked her in the eye.

“It’s not much, but I like it here.” His gaze fell to his shoes.

She reached up and took his face in her hands. “Come on,” she whispered as she pulled him down for a kiss. His lips were warm and his breath came in a sharp gasp when she reached into his front pockets with both hands to retrieve his keys.

The house was tidy, small, and cozy. Drew led her to his bedroom, his hand slightly shaking as he opened the door. She looked around and immediately noticed similarities to John’s apartment back home. Neutral tones, minimalistic, no clutter. She pushed thoughts of John to the back of her mind and turned her eyes from the room to the man in it. He was biting his lower lip and staring at her, unsure.

She closed the distance between them and lifted her shirt over her head. He ran his fingertips along her collarbones, bringing the straps of her bra with them as they grazed her arms. He lowered his head and kissed along her jaw and down her neck while his fingers found the front clasp of her bra, this time with no trouble. Breasts free, his hands cupped her and she sighed.

She leaned into him, reaching around to pull his shirt up and off. Her hands roamed up and down his back and shoulders, feeling the muscles move as he continued to undress her.

He fell to his knees and slowly kissed his way from her sternum to her belly button. His hair tickled the sensitive skin at her ribs, causing a soft giggle to escape.

“Ticklish?”

“Very.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He traced her ribs with his fingers. When he reached her waistband, he stopped kissing her and took time to unbutton and slowly remove her pants.

She said a silent
thank you
, realizing she’d chosen her lacy black panties.

Drew looked up at her from his position at her feet and smiled, a wicked and dangerous grin. His hands ran up the backs of her legs and up over her hips as he pulled her closer to him. His lips traced the indentation of her navel and he moved across her belly to nip at one hip. Hitching his thumbs inside the band of her panties, he slowly guided them off her hips and down to the floor.

“Lay down,” he murmured against her skin, lightly pushing her back so her knees hit the bed.

She threaded her fingers in his soft hair and pulled slightly to get his attention. His soulful eyes found hers as she descended onto the bed. He followed, crawling across her, never breaking the connection.

She looked down his body and pouted. “Why do you still have so many clothes on?”

Drew cocked one eyebrow and grinned. “You’ve been ignoring your duties, Miss McConnell.”

“I can fix that.”