State of Grace Read online

  When he’d realized that the crazy redhead had run out on him after their night together, he’d been confused, frustrated, and enraged. Even now, it still took every ounce of willpower in his body to stop himself from calling her or going over to her apartment to confront her. He couldn’t even ask about her because despite his curiosity for details, he didn’t want to give Lucas any red flags, so he’d had to settle for soaking up the slight tidbits of information they’d tossed his way every now and then.

  Recently, he’d determined that the true test of his obsession would be time. They were bound to see each other again, and even though he couldn’t stop thinking about her, it couldn’t have been that good. His response to her that night had just been fueled by alcohol. Both his mind and body would see the light once he saw her again.

  And now that the time had come, he knew he’d been kidding himself. The instant hard-on at the sight of her killed his theories.

  She wore some kind of red shirt that didn’t have any sleeves. It left the smooth expanse of her tan, toned shoulders bare. A tube top, he thought they called it. The clingy material hugged her breasts and the curve of her waist before disappearing under a white skirt that clung to her hips, thighs, and ass before ending midway down her thigh.

  That ass.

  He groaned and tried to drag his eyes away from her ass. Thankfully, he was saved as she followed a tiny blonde deeper into the crowd past the door, and her luscious bottom disappeared. He could still see her dark red hair as she moved through the crowd and followed the blonde to the other side of the bar. The bartender slid two drinks towards her, taking the cash she pulled from her purse. She thrust one of the drinks at her friend, and he wondered what she’d said when he saw the tiny blonde’s eyes roll. Grace shook her head at whatever it was her friend responded with and sat on a stool at the bar. Her companion flashed her a cheeky grin and took off into the crowd.

  “You gonna hit that tonight, man?”

  He turned to see one of his junior engineers staring at Grace.

  “Well?” John pressed. “You’ve been staring at her ass since she walked through the door. Can’t say I blame you. So you gonna move on it, or what, man?”

  “Not sure,” Sean said slowly, his gaze traveling back to her. She still had that set, determined look to her face he’d experienced firsthand more times than he could count. The last time he’d seen it was at the wedding. He’d enjoyed touching her, shocking her, wiping that look off her face, and replacing it with one closer to what he’d felt.

  His fingers itched to touch her again. He stared hard at the source of his never-ending frustration. For a minute, she peered curiously in his direction, but it was too dark, and that idiot John had moved past him in an effort to make eye contact with her.

  “Hey man, I think she’s lookin’ at me,” he exclaimed excitedly. “You mind if I give it a shot? If you really wanted to hit it, you’d have done something by now,” he rushed out.

  He was torn between wanting to punch the guy for even thinking about Grace and laughing at his foolishness for even thinking he had a chance. He was pretty sure if he’d had a few more drinks in him, he’d have knocked him out. As it was, there wasn’t any point in punching him when they had to work together, and he knew the poor chump didn’t stand a shot anyway.

  “Free country,” Sean shrugged noncommittally.

  John’s eyes lit up, and he left to make his way across the packed bar.

  Sean rocked back on his heels, watching the scene play out from under hooded lids.

  “Buy me a drink?” Out of nowhere, a brunette with heavily lined eyes appeared at his side by the bar. She was pretty, but she wore too much makeup. He noticed that her shirt was more like a bra, too. He grimaced wryly. Months ago, six and a half months ago to be exact, he’d have done exactly that, and they’d have both ended the night mutually satisfied.

  “Sorry, honey, I’m here with someone,” he muttered distractedly.

  He didn’t like this feeling. Grace wasn’t his. Now he was passing up a prime piece of ass and a guaranteed lay so he could eye-fuck the temperamental redhead from a distance.

  Something was definitely wrong with him.

  “Too bad,” she batted her lashes at him. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

  “Sure, honey.”

  His attention was drawn back to Grace as she left her seat and made her way through the crowd, probably looking for her friend, he guessed. He held his breath for a minute when she was intercepted by John. He’d caught her by surprise. She looked up at him as he smiled and said something to her. She snarled at him, pushed him out of the way and continued on her warpath.

  Sean prided himself on being smooth, but in that moment, he nearly choked, laughing with a sip of brandy burning his throat. He coughed and cleared his throat, eyes watering as John stood there, stunned.

  The brunette turned around. “You okay?”

  A slow smile spread across his face. “Yeah honey, I’m just fine. Listen, my friend over there – guy in the plaid shirt – he’s single, and I know you’re just his type. Played for the NFL, too.”

  Her eyes widened. “Really?” she breathed.

  Even though that was only slightly true since John had been on the practice team, he gave a decisive nod.

  “And he’s single?”

  “I wouldn’t send you over there if he wasn’t, hon.”

  She straightened her back, thrusting out her breasts. “You are such a good guy, you know that?”

  He almost choked again, but thankfully the brunette had moved on and was slowly circling John.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  It was now one o’clock, and while the bar wasn’t as packed as it was earlier, Leah showed no sign of leaving the dance floor. She was currently occupied grinding her ass against the cowboy’s crotch as Justin Bieber crooned that he wanted to be somebody’s boyfriend over the loudspeakers.

  She exhaled and took another sip of her dwindling vodka soda. She tried getting the attention of the bartender to no avail. It was a female bartender in a shirt so tight it was a wonder she could even breathe. She was currently pouring beers for a few guys that looked college-age in the middle of the bar.

  God, female bartenders were always such bitches.

  Annoyed, she took another sip and pushed the glass away, hoping that would serve as a hint. She propped her chin up on her fist. By now, she could have been in the middle of her book and on her third glass of wine, settled comfortably in her own home. Instead, she was relegated to this stupid bar as Leah danced, her moves, Grace was positive she’d learned from pornos.

  Never. Again.

  This was the first and last time she was ever going out with Leah. She was probably never going to go out again, useless activity that it was. She was also never going to trust anyone wearing unicorns and rainbows on their clothing. That alone should have been a huge fucking red flag.

  Suddenly, the bartender appeared, smiling at her and slipping her a full drink. Grace started to feel guilty about her earlier thoughts until the bartender opened her mouth to speak.

  “It’s from that guy down there,” she motioned her head. “Honey, if I were you, I would jump on that and ride him like a rodeo.”

  Grace just stared at her, disgusted. Shaking her head, she moved to at least acknowledge the fool that bought her a drink.

  She turned her head, pasting some semblance of a smile on her face, when she felt every hair on the back of her neck stand up. Her eyes collided with a hot, blue stare from across the bar, and her smile faded.

  The object of her very worst nightmare and uncomfortably sexy dream winked at her before raising his glass towards her in salute.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  She was flushed from the heat inside the bar, but she could feel the blood drain from her face.

  Paralyzed again. Damn it.

  The sight of him brought the memory of how she’d ended their last encounter rushing back.

&nbs
p; Now, months later, he was here, right in the same room as her, slowly making his way towards her, his predatory eyes never leaving her gaze.

  In what seemed like forever and no time at all, he stood in front of her, a ghost of a smile lightly curving those perfect lips. He was standing so close; she knew he needed to shave again from the dark stubble that graced the strong lines of his jaw. She remembered him often complaining about having to shave twice a day. His scent, clean and masculine, assaulted her senses. Heat unfurled low in her belly, and she pushed her seat as far away from him as she could, which was really only a few inches because there was still a crowd surrounding the bar.

  He inched closer, settling his hand on the knee of one her crossed legs. She stifled a moan at the warmth of his touch, and stared down at the large hand casually draped over her knee.

  “Gracie,” he nodded, eyes warm and piercing.

  Memories of every single thing they’d done together flashed before her. Not misty colored, but in vivid Technicolor. The hand now on her knee, she could remember it against her throat while the other one explored between her thighs, and he drank from her mouth like he couldn’t get enough. The way he laughed when she tried to scramble away from him because she couldn’t take any more of his relentlessly revving her up. The look on his face, harsh and raw, when he came.

  She swallowed nervously, but he just let out a husky chuckle and leaned in closer.

  Damn him. He must have known what he was doing. He had to know the effect he had on women … his effect on her. She needed a call to arms, hormones be damned. She’d dealt with him for the better part of most of her life. There was no reason she couldn’t handle him now.

  Steeling her resolve, she glared. “What are you doing here?”

  “Don’t break out the welcome wagon,” he winked.

  Shameless flirt.

  She responded by shoving his hand off her knee. “Don’t touch me,” she whispered hotly.

  Unperturbed, he drew closer, settling his arm against the back of her stool.

  “Out for some drinks with the boys,” he said simply.

  She wrinkled her brow at him. “What?”

  “I said I was—,” he repeated slowly, as if she were five.

  “I heard what you said! You didn’t need to repeat it. What are you doing here? You’re never in this part of town.” She scowled at him.

  Damn, she was cute. Her nose scrunched up the tiniest bit, and when she scowled, instead of drawing her lips in, her lower lip actually pouted out, full and delectable. He remembered just how delectable and quickly moved his gaze away from her lips.

  “Woman, it’s a free country. I can go anywhere I damn want. Anyway, Barbara Walters, you never go out, what are you doing here?” He knew he was being nasty, but he was unable to help himself. The woman had him tied up in knots, and she was acting like he’d done something wrong – when she had walked out on him!

  “I can go anywhere I like. I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she muttered grumpily, and he stared.

  Her pretty, red lips were definitely pouting.

  On cue, his erection raged against the confines of his jeans.

  Well aware that her face was on fire, all she could do was pray that it was dark enough so he couldn’t tell how much he affected her. Engaging with him in battle wasn’t going to do her any favors. She decided to change tactics.

  “Well, I’d like to say it was nice seeing you, but I won’t waste time lying. My friend and I are about ready to head out. Hope you enjoy the rest of your night,” she said, pasting a false, bright smile on her face.

  She turned around in her stool to motion to Leah, who was conveniently facing her as she ground her ass into the cowboy, and Britney Spears screamed “Gimme more” out of the speakers. She looked up just at the right moment, making eye contact with Grace, who tried to motion her head towards the door.

  But Leah must have spotted Sean behind her and misinterpreted Grace’s distress because the other woman gave her a few wide-eyed winks and a thumbs-up. “You go girl,” she mouthed.

  “Seems like your friend thinks we ought to get to know each other better,” he murmured into her ear, behind her. She felt his hard, full chest pressed to her back and closed her eyes, hoping to hold onto her quickly scattering senses. “Almost had the chance to do just that if you hadn’t snuck out of the resort like a criminal.”

  “I already know everything about you that I need to know, you jerk.” She knew she was being a bitch, but she was soon distracted when his hand moved onto the curve of her waist, rubbing her side in a gentle motion.

  Back and forth.

  Heart racing, she tried to muster up the strength to get out of her chair, grab Leah and run the hell out of the bar.

  He chose that very moment to bring his other hand to her nape, moving his thumb against a knot at the sensitive skin on the back of her neck.

  Even the finest hair on the back of her neck stood straight up.

  Traitorous fucking hormones. Ruled by what’s between my legs.

  He pressed the advantage of her mute silence even further. “No liquor loosened lips tonight, Gracie?” he murmured softly.

  Letting out her breath, shakily, she moved his hands away and turned to face him. Automatically, he moved his hand back to her waist. He brought his thumb up to stroke her lower lip.

  Immediately, she sucked her lips inward, feeling the press of her teeth against the soft skin. He chuckled at her and moved the hand to the other side of her waist.

  “What do you want?” she asked bluntly.

  His warm gaze held hers knowingly as he drew closer and skimmed his fingers over her waist. “You know what I want, Gracie.”

  She shook her head in denial. “Nope. Not again. I already told you last time, I’m not one of your bimbos.”

  He leaned forward, closer to her face. Panicked, she twisted her face to the side. If he kissed her, she was seriously screwed.

  When his warm lips pressed against the sensitive shell of her ear, she knew that had been a dumb move. “You, Gracie. I want you. Not some bimbo.” She stopped breathing as his teeth gently tugged the lobe of her ear into his mouth. He swiped his tongue lightly over the area, soothing it from the gentle bite.

  “Gracie!”

  The loud squeal from behind her had them both turning.

  She’d never been so glad to see Leah. Swallowing hard, she smiled brightly, “Ready to go home?”

  “Oh, yeah. We are so beat,” Leah beamed at them both. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend?” Leah wiggled her eyebrows at her.

  She expelled a short breath and rushed the introductions. “Leah, this is Sean Holden, my brother’s best friend. Sean, this is Leah, a nurse at the hospital where I work.”

  Leah put a hand on her hip, her expression hurt. “I’m not just a nurse, I’m her friend.”

  Sighing, Grace amended herself. “That’s right, Leah is my friend at the hospital where I work.”

  She could feel Sean’s body shake with silent laughter. He was probably enjoying this.

  “Yes,” Leah affirmed, satisfied. Then she winked at her friend. “Now, Gracie, you didn’t tell me you were going swimming in the family pool!”

  Grace just stared at the blonde lunatic while Sean stopped trying to hold it in, and laughed out loud. “I like you,” he said to Leah.

  “Good thing, cause I like you, too. I wouldn’t let just anyone haul off my Gracie, here.”

  “Wait a sec—no one is haul …” she was interrupted by another one of Leah’s squeals as the cowboy she’d been dry humping appeared from out of nowhere and wrapped a sturdy arm around her waist.

  She turned her head up at him and smiled happily before putting her hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I have terrible manners, Gracie knows this,” she apologized to Sean.

  “This is Patrick. Patrick, this is Grace, and her—erm? What exactly are you again?” she giggled.

  “Oh, Grace,” he no
dded. “She’s the one you had me look up the–”

  “SHHHHHHH. We’re not talking about that, remember?” Leah interrupted urgently, trying to silently communicate with Patrick.

  His brow wrinkled in confusion, but he slowly nodded.

  Exasperated, Grace extended her hand. “Nice to meet you, Patrick. When I saw you two dancing, I didn’t know that you two already knew each other. You work in HR at the hospital?” she asked dryly.

  “How’d you know?” he asked, clearly delighted. “Leah talk about me?” he asked in a stage whisper. “It’s about damn time, I’ve been chasing her for God knows how long.”

  Grace looked at Leah and felt a moment of pity. Leah looked like she’d swallowed a lemon. Mentally, she shook her head. She hoped Leah wasn’t serious about this guy. If she was, and they ended up procreating, their offspring were in serious trouble.

  “Ahhh, well, Grace, Patrick’s roommate took off with someone he picked up at the bar and told Patrick not to come home, so we were just going to head back to my place in a cab, but I live opposite from where y—”

  “I’ll make sure she gets home,” Sean interjected smoothly.

  “I can take a taxi by myself,” Grace objected.

  “Oh, you’re a doll,” Leah gushed, ignoring her. “I know she’ll be in good hands,” she whispered conspiratorially.

  In mere seconds, Leah and Patrick were out the door, and Grace was left sitting in her stool wondering exactly how she’d ended up in this predicament.

  Sean swiveled her chair around until she was facing him, yet again.

  “So Gracie, you gonna be a good girl and let me get you home?” His smile was different this time. It was gentle. There wasn’t a smirk, and he didn’t look like he was keeping any delicious secrets from her. Maybe he was just blabbering all that nonsense about wanting her because of the alcohol earlier. Maybe now he’d even become brotherly, and she could stop fantasizing about him.

  She twisted her lips to the side, frowning when he stared at the motion. His jaw worked and he looked like he was really trying to concentrate.