Grace raised her brows in a what-business-of- yours-is-it? look. Most likely because he’d asked her to marry him, she deigned to answer. “A customer.”
Johnny immediately relaxed. Probably one of those little old ladies who liked their hair fixed like a French poodle’s.
“Chase Sinclair. He’s one of my regulars.” While he stared at her, Grace braked for a stop, proceeded with caution and added casually, “We’ve dated a couple of times.”
Johnny stared harder.
Chase. He had never liked that name. And he didn’t like the familiar way Grace said it, or the unfamiliar ill humor he felt at her words. He hoped she realized that for Gracie’s sake, the dates had to stop if they were to marry.
With forced nonchalance, he said mockingly, “Chase and Grace. Sounds like a cartoon.”
Gracie giggled. Grace glowered. “That’s juvenile, Johnny.”
“You used to have a sense of humor,” Johnny noted.
“I had to,” Grace muttered. “Or I’d have been mad at you all the time.” At his look of protest, she added, “Take that time you put gum in my hair.”
Johnny winced, effectively chastened. Grace had had to cut bangs in her hair after that prank. Still, Johnny liked to think he’d inspired her life’s work.
“And the time you scared me and Janelle when we camped on my porch.”
Ah, yes. Her father had threatened to shoot until he realized who had made the girls scream. Grace and Janelle had had to sleep in the house the rest of the night. And all over a harmless garden snake.
A sense of nostalgia swept over Johnny and he suddenly missed Janelle more than ever. He caught Grace’s gaze, saw the grief she couldn’t quite mask. This trip down memory lane had gone on long enough. He turned in the seat. “We’re almost there, Gracie.”
“Why did you put gum in her hair?” Gracie asked.
“Ah...”
“Because Johnny was a tease. Does he like to tease you, too?” Grace asked.
There was a moment’s pause, then little Gracie overcame her shyness to tattle. “He tickles me. But he stops if I say he has to.”
“That doesn’t sound like the Johnny I know,” Grace murmured.
He frowned. Couldn’t she see he wasn’t the same person he’d been one month ago, let alone the rebellious kid he’d been as a teen? His world revolved around Gracie now.
He ran his business from Janelle’s fine home, having given up his bachelor apartment. The last date he’d had was when he took Gracie to the cinema to see Snow White. Oddly, he hadn’t missed that aspect of his life until Grace had stirred up his hormones.
Still a little surprised by that turn of events, he took a discreet survey of Grace, just testing his reaction. As she braked for the turn into the gravel lane that led to the Greens’ farmhouse, Grace’s skirt inched up her leg. Her skin looked silky smooth, and she wasn’t even wearing stockings. The strap of her sandal around her ankle riveted his attention. He imagined his hand wrapped there, his lips there...
Johnny dragged his gaze away.
The car came to a halt as Grace parked before the square garage. He remembered hiding in there once, after he’d sprayed Janelle and Grace with the hose. Grace had only been thirteen when he’d chased her and gotten her shirt all wet. He imagined she would look a little different now in a wet T-shirt.
“Here we are.”
He jerked his gaze from Grace’s shirtfront, a hot sweat breaking out on his skin. He hadn’t counted on this. Hadn’t counted on having sexual feelings for Grace. He wasn’t going to look at her that way again, wasn’t going to think about her that way. He wasn’t going to marry her.
Then little Gracie climbed out of the car and cried with delight, “This is like the house in my farm book. Where are the kittens?” she asked excitedly.
Looking at Gracie’s happy face, Johnny guessed he was getting married after all. But he was damn well going to keep his hands to himself. These feelings he was having for Grace seemed downright immoral.
Little Gracie was so excited, he was more than happy to crawl halfway under the porch and catch the kittens. They were a rambunctious trio of calicoes, everything Gracie could have hoped for. She sat cross-legged in the grassy shade of an elm, kittens crawling in and out of her lap.
Grace had taken the groceries into the kitchen. Johnny looked toward the house, aware this was a good time to speak privately with her, yet feeling oddly reluctant. Telling Gracie to stay put, he left the little girl with her new friends and went inside.
The house was cool and quiet, the shades drawn against the sun. He noticed the upstairs was boarded off, heard the hum of an air conditioner that hadn’t been part of the house years ago. Otherwise, the place seemed unchanged.
Having moved from city to city in his early childhood, Johnny could only imagine what it must feel like to grow up and live in the same house all of your life, how it must feel to risk losing such a part of your past. Funny, how he’d only come to the Green farm to pester Grace and Janelle when he was bored, yet it was here that some of his happier memories took place.
Prints and posters of Elvis had once been framed on the walls of the hall. In the living room, the Greens had kept an old phonograph that spun forty-fives of Elvis tunes. He imagined that stuff was tucked away in the attic. He hated to think Grace would have parted with it.
Johnny wandered into the living room. A life-size poster of Elvis had once been propped in the corner, where Grace now kept a potted plant like those in her salon. Johnny grinned, thinking Elvis had more aesthetic appeal.
“When Mama was in the nursing home, we took the poster of Elvis there,” Grace said from behind him as if reading his thoughts. “Dad said it kept her company.”
Johnny turned to face Grace where she stood in the doorway. She looked all of fifteen again, missing her mother long before Mrs. Green had been physically gone. He said simply, “That was nice.”
“Dad left it there after Mama died. Every time I go back, they’ve got it propped in a corner somewhere.”
“You still go to the nursing home?”
“I give haircuts to some of the residents. Mama had a lot of friends there. Now they’re my friends.”
Johnny suspected that over the years, Grace had spent too much time at that nursing home.
But she smiled as she spoke of the people there. “Mama turned them all into Elvis freaks.”
“Fans,” Johnny corrected. “Fans of the King.”
“Now you sound like my dad.”
Johnny didn’t feel like Grace’s father. Right now, his thoughts probably had her dad rolling in the grave.
He shouldn’t be thinking about making love with Grace. He couldn’t possibly have sex with Grace.
Oh, yeah, he could.
Oh, no, he wouldn’t.
He’d have to handle this carefully, he realized. He wanted Grace, and he was certain that wanting wasn’t all one-sided, however reluctant Grace appeared. But she wasn’t the kind of girl you had a fling with, not even a married fling.
The best way to approach this marriage, he decided, was on the basis of past friendship. No hearts involved.
And no sex.
“Where is Gracie?” Grace asked suddenly, stepping into the room.
“Playing with the kittens.”
“Good. We have to figure some way short of marriage that