Ben dropped my hand, waved goodbye, and headed for his fancy car parked awkwardly at the end of the drive.
I stood there, with my arms wrapped around me, my mind and conscience clear, and watched until he backed out and his taillights disappeared down the road. Now there was nothing in my way, nothing holding me back. No unfinished business or lingering doubts. Everything was clear ahead. Now it was time to decide and take control of my future, and I knew exactly who I wanted in it.
Chapter twenty-four
Cole
Waiting was the worst.
I didn’t have patience at the best of times, but knowing Grace was facing the guy who destroyed her confidence and shattered the woman she was, did not sit well with me. I should be there. Standing beside her. Backing her up. Knocking the fancy pants prick out.
“Give her a minute,” Gabriella said, sensing my anxiousness.
“Grace is stronger than you think,” Georgia attempted to assure me.
“You sure about that? She’s been through a lot,” I reminded them.
“Yeah, she has. But Grace is a warrior. She might not know it and she might get knocked down every now and then, but she’s tough. She’s not about to let some wannabe in a suit take anything from her,” Georgia stated knowingly.
“He already did,” I grumbled.
“No, Cole, he didn’t. He might have bruised her and made her forget for a minute who she was, but he didn’t take a thing from her. He didn’t break her. Grace is a force to be reckoned with, and I give him five minutes before he finds that out for himself.”
Georgia was so sure of her words that I found myself nodding along, hoping she was right. If Grace stumbled, I wouldn’t hesitate to help her find her feet again, but it would definitely involve putting that rich dick in the hospital for a day or two. But maybe I wouldn’t have to. If Georgia was right, maybe Grace would send him packing without my help.
I downed the rest of my beer and waited. Beside me, Georgia and Gabriella were chatting animatedly. I only caught every third word, but I didn’t really care. They weren’t my priority.
A moment later, Grace strolled causally back around the corner and I swear I stopped breathing. She looked radiant. Her shoulders were back defiantly, her stride full of purpose, and her face neutral. Even though she wasn’t giving anything away, she wasn’t crying so I was counting that as a win.
She made her way up the steps toward where we were all waiting.
“Well? Did you kick that fucker in the balls?” Georgia asked pointedly, and I almost choked.
With a nonchalant shrug, Grace answered. “Metaphorically speaking.”
I opened my mouth to ask her to explain but Georgia beat me to it.
“Spill,” she demanded.
Grace reached for a bottle of water and drained it quickly. “Give me two minutes to go to the bathroom then I’ll tell you everything,” she promised, setting her empty bottle back on the table and disappearing into the house.
“She didn’t need to pee. She’s just torturing me,” Georgia mumbled.
“Sure. It’s all about you,” Gabriella sassed, and Georgia just poked her tongue out.
These women were insane. They were strong, intelligent, beautiful, and capable most of the time. They ran their business with an iron fist and demanded excellence. But then they could bitch and fight like they were seven without missing a beat. I knew having Grace in my life and keeping Grace in my life meant they came as a package deal. You didn’t get one Hamilton sister, you got them all. Thankfully, it was a challenge I was more than happy to take on. Grace was worth it and so much more.
The minutes ticked by and I grew more and more antsy. “Where is she?” I complained only for Gabriella to shoot a sympathetic look in my direction.
“You know Grace. She probably got distracted or caught up by someone. I’m sure she’s not too far away,” Gabriella tried to placate me, but I didn’t want to hear it. I needed to talk to Grace and make sure she was all right. Today had been a lot and I needed to know she was okay.
“I’m gonna get another drink,” I grumbled, rising from the table and collecting my plate.
After I put my trash into the bin, I stole a moment to myself.
I walked over to the sitting room and looked around. It was so warm and homely that it was hard to believe that this wasn’t actually just a home but a bed and breakfast. Hand-knitted throw rugs were draped across the back of sofas. Mismatched, quilted cushions covered every surface. The overflowing bookshelf under the window was filled with everything frommurder mysteries to political biographies to those dirty romance books Grace liked to read. But it was the photos on the fireplace mantel that stole my attention.
They weren’t filled with random people making fake memories. These were real people living real lives. Real people like Grace and Georgia and Gabriella and a woman who had to be their mother. None of them looked like her but they all did. Each daughter carried traits of her mother without being her lookalike. Georgia’s hair had the same wild curl that her mom’s did. Grace’s dimple matched her mother’s, while Gabriella had her heart-shaped face.
