At loose ends until school started, Grace had to cut as many corners as possible to make up for her depleted bank account. Even worse, she missed Molly more than she would have believed possible. The baby had taken up permanent residence in her heart.
Only at odd moments would she admit she missed Molly’s father almost as much as she did the baby. Like everyone else swept up in the Daltons’ orbit, she’d been overwhelmed by Delilah’s forceful personality and dazzled by Alex’s wicked grin and audacious charm. Now that she viewed the Dalton clan from a distance, however, Grace recognized Blake as the brick and mortar keeping the family together. Always there when his mother needed him to pull together the financing on yet another of her charitable ventures. Holding the reins at Dalton International’s corporate headquarters while Alex jetted halfway around the world to consult with suppliers or customers. Grace missed seeing his tall form across the table at his mother’s house, missed hearing his delighted chuckle when he tickled Molly’s tummy and got her giggling.
The only bright spot in those last, endless days of summer was that she heard nothing from Jack Petrie. She began to breathe easy again, convinced she’d covered her tracks. That false sense of security lasted right up until she answered the doorbell on a rainy afternoon.
When she peered though the peephole, the shock of seeing who stood on the other side dropped her jaw. A second later, fear exploded in her chest. Her fingers scrabbled for the dead bolt. She got it unlocked and threw the door almost back on its hinges.
“Blake!”
He had to step back to keep from getting slammed by the glass storm door. Grace barely registered the neat black slacks, the white button-down shirt with the open collar and sleeves rolled up, the hair burnished to dark, gleaming gold by rain.
“Is…?” Her heart hammered. Her voice shook. “Is Molly okay?”
“No.”
“Oh, God!” A dozen horrific scenarios spun through her head. “What happened?”
“She misses you.”
Grace gaped at him stupidly. “What?”
“She misses you. She’s been fretting since you left. Mother says she’s teething.”
The disaster scenes faded. Molly wasn’t injured. She hadn’t been kidnapped. Almost reeling with relief, Grace sagged against the doorjamb.
“That’s what you came down to San Antonio to tell me?” she asked incredulously. “Molly’s teething?”
“That, and the fact that she said her first word.”
And Grace had missed both events! The loss hit like a blow as Blake’s glance went past her and swept the comfortable living room.
“May I come in?”
“Huh? Oh. Yes, of course.”
She moved inside, all too conscious now of her bare feet and the T-shirt hacked off to her midriff. The shirt topped a pair of ragged cutoffs that skimmed her butt cheeks.
The cutoffs were comfortable in the cozy privacy of her home but nothing she would have ever considered wearing while she’d worked for Delilah—or around her son. She caught Blake’s gaze tracking to her legs, moving upward. Disconcerted by the sudden heat that slow once-over generated, she gulped and snatched at his reason for being there.
“What did Molly say?”
“We thought it was just a ga-ga,” he said with a small, almost reluctant smile. “Mother insisted she was trying to say ga-ma, but it came out on a hiss.”
She sounded it out in her head, and felt her stomach go hard and tight.
“Gace? Molly said Gace?”
“Several times now.”
“I…uh…”
He waited a beat, but she couldn’t pull it together enough for coherence. She was too lost in the stinging regret of missing those first words.
“We want you to come back, Grace.”
Startled, she looked up to find Blake regarding her intently.
“Who’s we?” she stammered.
“All of us. Mother, me, Julie and Alex.”
“They’re back from their honeymoon?”
“They flew in last night.”
“And you…” She had to stop and suck in a shaky breath. “And you want me to come back and pick up where I left off as Molly’s nanny?”
“Not as her nanny. As my wife.”
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