Page 42 of His Saving Grace

With no other option, he turned and followed along behind her. They wandered for a few more minutes, another awkward silence stretching between them. And for the love of God, he had no idea what had happened. One second, they were flirting, the next, she was back to slamming up the wall between them.

A combination of uncertainty and anger rolled through him, and he’d be damned if he could say why. What difference did it make if she pulled away? It wasn’t like this was a relationship or anything.

Yeah, but you want it to be.

He shoved that thought away, because no, he didn’t. A relationship was the last thing he wanted. There was no time for that crap. He was already fucking fumbling around like an asshole when it came to the ranch. He wasn’t about to add a shit-load more stress to his life.

Keep telling yourself that.

Yeah, okay, so there was a spark between them. But it was purely physical. Once they both admitted it and worked out whatever it was, everything would go back to normal.

Satisfied by such a reasonable explanation, he turned his focus to what he wanted to eat.

He finally decided on barbecue and they got in line. Grace remained standoffish, not talking, refusing to look at him. Which was fine. He’d let her work through whatever she needed to. At least until they were back at the blanket. Then, all bets were off.

They got to the front of the line, and he ordered pulled pork, ribs, and a burger with all the fixings. Grace raised an eyebrow at the size of his order, but he just smiled, even though his cheeks felt a little hot. He wasn’t about to tell her he was starving because he’d been too nervous to eat today. She didn’t need to know what a fucking wreck he was. Jesus, he couldn’t believe what a fucking wreck he was. He needed to get his shit together.

His number was called and he grabbed his food. She watched him, that unreadable expression still on her face. Man, he’d really fucked this up.

“Anything else?” He kept his tone light, hoping to coax her out of whatever this was.

She shook her head, but didn’t say anything. Fuck.

“Okay.” He turned toward the field. “Let’s head back then.”

They walked back to the blanket side by side, the tension thick enough to require a spoon. He would have taken her plate from her, but his order was so big, it required both hands to carry. And then he realized he should have been carrying her food all along. Good thing his mother wasn’t here to witness his lack of manners. She would’ve skinned him alive for being an ass. Probably with a butter knife.

His thigh had graduated to a dull throb, and he had to be careful to not trip on anything or anyone. Dumping his dinner on someone’s head was not on the agenda. His limp started to creep in, and he jerked in a deep breath. Just a couple dozen feet to go.

Jake was still where they’d left him, stretched out on the blanket on his side, facing away from them. The remains of his dinner sat on a paper plate next to him. There was a woman seated near him.

As they got closer, Mason realized the woman was Claire McKinney, Jake’s best friend since they were little kids. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her blue eyes trained on Jake.

Grace stepped up to the blanket, Mason right behind her. Claire glanced over her shoulder and, after a second, a smile spread across her sweet face. Most people would consider her plain, but Mason had always thought she was cute. She’d always radiated an inner light, warm, sweet, caring. She’d been a charming little girl.

“Mason,” she said, leaping to her feet. It had been a while since he’d seen her and somehow, she was all grown up. That’s what happens when you’re gone for fifteen years, moron.

She was tall—well taller than Grace, and apparently, she was his new measuring stick—and lithe, mostly long tanned legs. She wore a pair of denim cut-off shorts and a pink t-shirt that said Cowgirl Up or Get in the Truck.

She came over and threw her arms around his middle, squeezing tight. He lifted the plates he held, making sure they didn’t get hit in her enthusiasm. He looked down at the top of her blonde head and smiled. “Hey, squirt.”

He flicked a quick glance at Grace. There was some tension in her shoulders and the small smile on her lips looked forced. She stared at the young woman wrapped around him, and he could see the gold sparks leaping in her eyes. Satisfaction poured through him.

So, she didn’t like another woman hugging him. Interesting.

“Let him go, Claire,” Jake said, still in the same position on the blanket. “Can’t you see he’s on a date?”

Claire looked up, a pink blush staining her cheeks. She let go and stepped back, smoothing her hair. “Sorry.”

He winked at her. “It’s all good.”

Claire looked over her shoulder at Jake and stuck out her tongue. He wasn’t looking, so he missed it. She sighed, her shoulders drooping.

His brother was stupid—somehow Mason didn’t think it was possible, but Jake always managed to surprise him—and an idiot to boot, for not seeing what was right in front of him. Claire had been head over heels in love with the youngest Callahan since they were kids. Seemed nothing had changed.

Why she didn’t tell Jake how she felt, he’d never know. The longer she let it go on, the more devastated she’d be when he inevitably fell for someone else. She’d been lucky, so far, because although his brother was a player, he had yet to fall hard. But the time was coming, and it wasn’t going to be fun to get caught in the aftermath of that storm.

“Claire McKinney, this is Grace.” He indicated Grace with a tilt of his head, since his hands were still full. “Grace, our neighbor, Claire.”