A Fresh Start

Chapter 8

Alan was puzzled and getting a bit annoyed. Grace could see that very clearly and it amused her.

Served him right.

The event was done, and it had been a great success. Grace had not referred to the incident at all. She hadn’t even acted as if it had happened.

She had been her usual old self with Alan, and he didn’t know what to do. He was getting more and more nervous with her.

Good, thought Grace.

She turned to him, a cheerful grin on her face.

“You are not going back to the hotel to be cooped up in the room,” declared Grace.

Alan frowned.

“I have work.”

“Yes, you do, and you’ll do it only better after you take a break. Now, you know I’m right.”

Alan looked at her quizzically, wondering just what she was up to. Grace smiled at him innocently.

“What are you up to?”

Grace grinned at him.

“Come with me and find out,” she invited.

Alan should’ve said no. She was up to something, he could see that. But she looked so enticing, so he followed her as she ignored their car and walked, a spring in her step, as if she hadn’t gotten a care in the world.

“Tadaa!” sang Grace as they reached their destination.

Alan stared at the little two-person boat in front of them.

“What do you propose we do?” he asked acidly.

Grace rolled her eyes exaggeratedly.

“I would’ve thought that’d be obvious to an intelligent man like you. We get in, you pedal and I steer,” explained Grace.

Alan’s eyebrows drew together.

“Why do you steer?”

“Because it was my idea.”

“Why does that mean I have to pedal?”

Grace shook her head, biting back a grin.

“Because your ass needs some work, of course. Do you want it to get flabby? Of course not. Get in and pedal away.”

That outrageous suggestion shut Alan up long enough for them to get in the boat, and start on their journey.

Grace’s steering, he soon realized, was pretty erratic.

“No, no you’re going to steer us right into – Fu*king hell, Grace!”

Grace chuckled merrily.

“Oh, you worry too much,” she declared airily, narrowly escaping another boat. The couple in it squealed and shouted, but thankfully not in English. Grace waved cheerfully at them, making Alan chuckle despite himself.

“Grace, look out, there’s an island. It’s an actual island. You can avoid an island, right?”

Alan was beginning to doubt it, to be honest. Could you get tickets for reckless steering of a two-person boat?

Grace watched as Alan let his guard down, despite himself. The lines around his mouth seemed less prominent. The frown lines between his eyebrows were gone for now. They would be back, she knew. She wished she could smooth them away with kisses when they made their inevitable reappearance.

If only he would stop shouting and look pretty, thought Grace, watching as the frown came back and he started yelling.

“Grace! Watch out, for heaven’s sake…”

There was a thump, and Grace paused.

Uh oh.

The boat was stuck. But the island still looked far away!

“Just pedal,” she said, and she couldn’t have made a more unfortunate choice of words.

“Pedal? Just pedal? You have run us aground, you silly woman! We’re stuck here! Stuck!”

Grace shook her head.

“Look, it’s not like we’re stuck on a deserted island with no fresh water. Just pedal.”

“That is what I’m trying to do!” growled Alan, obviously furious.

“You are so pretty when you’re angry,” Grace told him.

That stunned him into silence.

It took a lot of maneuvering, a lot of pedaling, and even more swearing before the finally found themselves in the open water again.

With good grace, she let him steer.

“It’s your turn, anyway,” she told him with a grin.

Alan’s face was dark and furious for a few minutes. Then, as Grace watched, she saw the humor of the situation catch up with him and a smile broke through, like the sun through dark clouds.

“You ran into an island. You’re a disgrace to women drivers, my dear Grace.”

Grace pouted.

“Boats don’t behave like cars,” she declared.

Alan chuckled, then roared with laughter, until they were both holding on to each other and nearly crying.

“All right, so maybe I su*k,” Grace finally admitted.

As they made their way back to the hotel, Grace knew that she had broken down one layer of the nearly impenetrable defense he had built around himself.

Now for the next step. Grace had it all planned out.

Alan was relaxed and happy. She could see it. Now her plan became a lot more commonplace. Ply him with wine and fine food, and wear something sexy.

Grace had decided that it was a classic for a reason. It worked.

“So, hungry? You did do all the pedaling.”

Alan’s guard was down. He nodded, feeling remarkably carefree.

“Great, because I’ve got dinner planned. On my balcony. Yours has the same view, but I have the added advantage of having furniture that still has room for us to sit on. Plus I let housekeeping in once a day.”

Alan’s desire for privacy could go to great lengths. He lived in clutter. Grace planned to do something about that.

Alan let himself be swept along, mostly because he didn’t really feel as if he had much of a choice. In half an hour, he was glad he’d let her overrule his pitiful objections and just roll over him.

Grace was wearing a little red dress that made her look like a glamorous throwback to the fifties. Her lips were painted an enticing red to go with it, and she had done something dark and mysterious to her eyes.

She looked incredible. Her hair looked artfully mussed, as if she had just rolled out of bed, ready to be taken back to bed again.

There was a small voice inside Alan that told him that it was a bad idea. She looked too tempting. There was a part of him that knew he wouldn’t be able to resist her if she offered herself to him.

But he ruthlessly and unwisely ignored that part of him as they sat down at the beautifully set table on the balcony and she poured him a glass of wine.

“I said I’d serve. Fewer people for you to worry about. I thought you’d be more comfortable that way,” said Grace with a smile.

Alan was touched. Not too many people would’ve thought of that, or gone to such lengths to ensure his comfort.