Fortuity
by Jewel E. Ann
Self-Published
Book 3 in the Transcend Series
Forty-something Gracelyn Glock is living the dream.
No husband.
No retirement plan.
And since her self-imposed man-ban—no need to shave above her knees.
After a tragic accident, Gracelyn inherits her ten-year-old nephew. She signs a lease on a San Diego beach house and learns their neighbors for the summer are a sexy anatomy professor and his young daughter.
Professor Nathaniel Hunt has spent the last decade being a single dad … and not having sex.
So when he discovers Gracelyn has a peculiar outdoor stripping ritual, a million inappropriate thoughts fill his responsible mind.
When kisses are stolen, man-bans are broken, and summer comes to an end, will hearts stay in one piece and hope stay alive? Or will saying goodbye destroy everything?
Genre
Triggers
Unexpected death of family member, and raising their child
While Transcend and Epoch were emotionally charged and gripping, Jewel E. Ann chooses to write a lighter happily ever after for Nate in Fortuity.
While it had a different feel, it was needed, because Fortuity is it's own story.
And let's be honest, after everything, Nate needed a lighter story. He needed a happily ever after that wasn't dripping in tragedy.
This is what this book is.
Where Transcend and Epoch had me crying more than laughing, Fortuity was the opposite.
Of course there were some sad moments.
Such is life, and it wouldn't be a Jewel E. Ann book without some realism.
But there were way more humorous moments - and sexy moments - than the last two books.
What I truly loved about this book - besides Nate finally finding love, and her not dying on him - is that even without the romance, Nate finally seemed settled. He has his daughter. He lived his and his wife's dream of travelling the world with her. He is happy without the love.
Same goes for Grace. In a new stage of her life, where in the past she lived wild and free, she is now a single mom to her nephew, she doesn't feel the need for a man. Nice to have, but she didn't need one. She had her first love, much like Nate, and when he passed away, that was it for her. No one else measured up.
Which makes their unlikely romance that much better.
Plus, they are such complete opposites, it makes all their interactions so much fun.
Light! Fun! Just what these characters, and us the readers, needed after the last two books.
It's crazy how Jewel has written a series where there are two people who are soulmates - actual, timeless, soulmates - and they don't end up together. AND AS A READER, YOU ARE OKAY WITH THAT.
Yes, I was sad for Nate and Morgan at the end of Epoch.
But Swayze and Griffin were meant to be together this life.
Just like Nate was meant for his past wife, and now meant for Grace in this life.
All of these relationships, these bonds, are so beautiful. It doesn't matter that we know in the next life, Nate's and Morgan/Swayze's souls find one another again. In this life, they end up with different people, and it's okay.
How did Jewel do that?
Fortuity was a lighthearted conclusion to this series. Nate gets a happy ending. Morgan gets a mother figure she adores. We learn that Swayze and Griffin live back home and are happy with their daughters. It's just a sweet ending to this often emotionally heavy series.
Morgan: “He said ‘dude’ a dozen times, every time I tried to grab his phone. Dude …”
she says with emphasis, like she’s testing it out.
Morgan: “It’s kind of cool.”
Dear God, please … no. I’ve protected her from overusing fillers such as like, um, and uh. If our time here in California transforms my daughter into a Valley Girl, I won’t be happy.
Morgan: “Do you think you’ll get married again?”
Ten years. I made it ten years without her curiosity piquing to the point of contemplating my future apart from hers. It was good while it lasted.
Nate: “Nope. You’re my girl. You’re all I need.”
Morgan: “Dad … you can’t marry me. And if I get married, who will you have?”
It’s not enough that she has her mom’s face and my first love’s name to haunt me on a daily basis. She has to point out all the tiny facts I’ve chosen to ignore—like she’s going to get married and leave me someday.
Nate: “I might get a dog.”
Morgan: “Hey!”
She leans forward and pinches the back of my neck.
Morgan: “That’s not fair. I want a dog too.”
I shrug, pulling into the driveway.
Nate: “Then you’d better just stick with me instead of chasing crazy dreams like getting married.”
This girl. She’s life. She pumped my heart when I didn’t think it could keep beating. She filled my lungs when I thought I’d taken my last breath. She crawled up my face and showed me I still had a smile.
Morgan: “It’s just for fun. He called Mr. Hans Huge Hands. And Mr. Hans calls Gracelyn Elvis. Sometimes you call me Squirt, which is gross because I heard Rocco saying he got the squirts from bad sushi. Basically, you’re calling me the S-word that ends in H-I-T when you call me Squirt. So Gabriel Guacamole can’t be bad, Dad. We love guac. Right?”
Grace: "Brandon and I were crazy, and he was so ornery. Always playing jokes on me. Embarrassing me so much, but it was just us. He made me up my game, always finding a better revenge.”
I sigh, letting my smile fade.
Grace: “Just before he died, he said, ‘You win, Grace. Now go find another worthy opponent.’ Such a jerk. He just had to be awesome until his last breath, clearly making him the winner. And I think he damn well knew it. That was twenty years ago, and I still hear those words like an eternal echo.”
Morgan: “Do you think it would be cool if Gabe were my boyfriend and Gracelyn were your girlfriend … just for the summer?”
Nate: “What?”
My head jerks in her direction as she slips on her shoes.
Nate: “N-no.”
I shake my head like the torso of a wet dog. Where did she come up with that ridiculous idea? She shrugs.
Morgan: “I’ve never had a boyfriend. And you haven’t had a girlfriend since Mom. It would be nice to practice a little before I start school this fall.”
Nate: “Practice?”
I tilt my head to the side.
Morgan: “Yes. If I get a boyfriend in school, I don’t want him to think I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Kill. Me. Now.
Nate: “And …”
I clear my throat.
Nate: “What do you mean by doing?”
Eye roll. Shocking.
Morgan: “That’s just it! I don’t know. Gabe can show me.”
Nate: “Show you what?”
I sit up, dropping my notebook and pencil onto the cushion beside me, my blood pressure in the unhealthy range.
Morgan: “Daaad! I. Don’t. Know. It’s like when you try to get me to try something new to eat and I say I don’t like it. You say I can’t know that until I taste it. Well … I need a taste of a boyfriend.”
Nate: “No! You don’t.”
She opens the door and tosses me a sour face over her shoulder before leaving.
Morgan: “Figuratively.”
The door shuts. I lose five more years off my life. And now we have a boyfriend situation.
Grace: “Did I mention I’m really sorry?”
She curls her hair behind her ear and wrinkles her freckled nose. I sidestep her and head toward the stairs.
Nate: “Yes. You’ve been very generous with apologies and gratitude. You’re eternally welcome, and most likely I will always forgive you. How much more could you possibly screw up in the next eight weeks?”
Grace: “Please don’t say it like that.”
She follows me to the kitchen.
Grace: “That’s a lot of pressure to put on me to be perfect. So much could happen in eight weeks.”
“Bad influence my ass,”
I say just loud enough for him to hear me.
“Elvis, your ass is a lot of things, but a bad influence is not one of them.”
Nate: “You don’t have to go.”
I feel like my uncontrolled kiss confession just drove a wedge between us. With a little less than two more months here, and Morgan and Gabe finding a close friendship, I don’t want it to be weird. Gracelyn rests her hand on the railing, dropping her gaze to the ground.
Grace: “I do. Or else …”
I wait. She doesn’t finish. She doesn’t move.
Nate: “Or else?”
There’s something incredibly sexy about the way she looks at me over her shoulder. She’s done it several times, and each time I think my heart trips over its next beat. A tiny smile, that appears to hold a secret, curls her lips.
Grace: “If I stay, I might forget I’m not supposed to want you to kiss me.”
Grace: “I’m done having boyfriends. I’ve had bad luck with them. I’m sure you’ll have much better luck.”
Morgan frowns.
Morgan: “I’m not sure. When I asked Gabe if he wanted to kiss me, his nose scrunched up like this.”
She wrinkles her nose.
Morgan: “I don’t think that’s a good sign.”
Whoa … okay. She likes Gabe a lot. Or she wants to know what it’s like to kiss a boy. He never mentioned this to me. I’m way over my head right now with this young girl waiting for me to say something.
Grace: “You’re young.”
Morgan: “Ugh!”
She rolls onto her back and drapes an arm over her face.
Morgan: “Now you sound like my dad. I know everyone thinks ten is young, but I don’t feel young. Why is ten too young to kiss a boy? How old were you the first time you kissed a boy?”
I chuckle, rolling onto my back too.
Grace: “Well, I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I was nine. A ten-year-old neighbor boy kissed me in the back hallway of our church right before he got baptized. I was shocked. It was just a quick peck on my lips when nobody was looking, but I was in shock. He gave me this devilish grin and said, ‘My last sin before they’re all washed away.’ And we never spoke of it again. And for the record…”
I roll back toward her, and her head flops to the side to look at me
Grace: “…I was fourteen before another boy kissed me.”
She sits up, turning to face the railing, crossing her legs in front of her.
Grace: “Noted, huh? So now you’re taking notes about me? Will I make it into one of your future books? Maybe a novella about your summer in San Diego. Will you use my real name? Will you mention my great ass?”
Nate: “Great Ass will be the chapter right after Clipper Disaster.”
Grace: “Real funny.”
Grace: “Nate … she will thank you for what you did. Maybe not on day one of public school, but someday she will thank you for giving her the world in the first ten years of her life. Morgan’s future is going to be so bright. I can’t even imagine how profoundly different my life would be had my parents been able to give me what you’ve given Morgan.”
I smile even though she can’t see me.
Nate: “Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”
Grace: “Absolutely. Hard truth? She’s going to get a computer, cellphone, and boyfriend, and you’ll be an afterthought.”
Barking out a laugh, I shake my head.
Nate: “Remind me not to come to you when I need my next pep talk.”
Grace: “It’s okay to hold on to her. It’s okay if you never really move on. It’s okay if you never find that kind of love again because she was the one, and no one else will ever come close. Take some sage advice from someone who knows … threesomes don’t work. If your heart can’t let go, then you will take her with you into every new relationship. And even though she’s dead and no one can see her … they will feel her.”
I love this girl. She’s my world. My hands will release her … set her free. But my heart can’t let go, which means she will rip it from my chest and carry it with her forever. And I will wait for her to return … for my heart to return.
Morgan: "Dad, she’s so cool. She has a boyfriend. A boyfriend! So I’ve been asking her lots of questions so you don’t have to pretend you don’t know the answers when I ask you.”
Kill. Me. Now.
Grace: “Pervert.”
Nate: “Bird-watching.”
Grace: “There are no birds in these bushes.”
Nate: “Not yet, but bird-watching involves patience.”
There it is … the grin she doesn’t want to give me. I’ll steal everything I can—grins … kisses.
Grace: “Turn around.”
Nate: “Why? It’s no different than wearing a bikini. That’s what you said. Right?”
Huffing out a quick breath, she rolls her eyes, almost as expertly as Morgan. She steps out with more confidence than I sense she’s really feeling. Basic white bra and orange boy-short-style underwear the same orange color as her hair. She looks like Halloween a few months early.
Grace: “Total perv …”
She stomps up the stairs.
Nate: “I’m not even sorry.”
When she reaches the top, she pauses.
Grace: “Here’s your bird.”
She flips me the middle finger without looking back. I laugh as she shuts the door and slings the curtains shut.
Always a simple postcard. Always with the same four-word greeting. Hope you’re finding magic. I usually return the sentiment, without words, just a postcard with a picture of Morgan. I think she knows why I have nothing more to say. She knows I lost too much. She knows her happiness is my happiness. Every postcard from her is a reminder that I did the right thing. I let go.
Grace: “Morgan told me you bought condoms. She said you said they were for Mr. Hans, but we both know that’s not true. And maybe you have other potential pen pals I don’t know about, and maybe you bought them for one of them. I’m just saying …”
My words slow and fade into a whisper.
Grace: “I know you bought condoms.”
How does he remain so unaffected? So cool? When I asked—without saying the actual words—about him masturbating, he showed signs of being human by dropping his gaze and blushing ever so slightly. With a slight nod, he nibbles his bottom lip.
Nate: “Yeah … did she also mention she gave him the condoms?”
Grace: “Seriously?”
I chuckle.
Nate: “Yes. I was outside talking to him on the deck, and she ran outside and gave him the box with a ‘Here. My dad got you these.’ He gave me a wide-eyed look.”
I giggle more.
Grace: “What did you do?”
He scrubs his hands over his face.
Nate: “What could I do? I went along with it, and said I hoped they were the right ones.”
My laughter settles deep into my belly, making it hard to breathe.
Grace: “Wh-what did you s-say when he … gave them back?”
I press my hand to his chest to keep from falling on my ass with my giggle fit.
Nate: “That’s the thing … he’s never given them back to me.”
Nate: “You have to tell me why? It’s flat-out cruel to keep it a secret at this point.”
I roll my eyes.
Grace: “My hair. Are you happy now? I didn’t want you to see my hair. I’m not sure my hair has ever looked so hideous. I couldn’t look at it without cringing and feeling the need to look away. And we’re not together. What we have is based on physical attraction. Or … it was.”
My nose wrinkles.
Grace: “That’s no doubt over now.”
Nate: “First…”
he wipes his mouth with a napkin after taking the last bite of cinnamon roll
Nate: “…I’m not that shallow. And if I were, we could still enjoy each other’s company for the rest of the summer. A paper sack over your head works just fine.”
It’s not funny. Not even a little. Okay … my lips betraying me by sneaking out a smile might mean it’s a tiny bit funny.
Grace: “So you just want me for everything below my neck?”
Nate: “No. I think we’d cut a hole where your mouth is.”
I shake my head and laugh. How did we go from aprons to paper sacks?
Grace: “So I can breathe?”
Nate: “Um … sure … that too.”
Grace: “That doesn’t explain why you’re just now telling me you have a key!”
His lips twist to the side as he lifts one shoulder in a half shrug.
Nate: “I wanted …”
Grace: “You wanted?”
I lean in more, getting in his face.
Nate: “You …”
His gaze slides down my body.
Nate: “In my shirt. In my house. I wanted more … you.”
Nate: “I want to fuck you on my kitchen table before real life returns in two days.”
What the … what!? That … that came out of his mouth. Nice guy Nate. Widower Nate. Single dad Nate.
Nate: “Actually, I was hoping you could help her out. It’s not about the pads. I can get her pads, but she had a little breakdown and needs, in her words, a mom. I think what she needs is a female. Can you be a female?”
Gracelyn chuckles.
Grace: “I think I can manage something close to female.”
Nate: “I’d be forever indebted to you.”
Her eyebrows slide up her face.
Grace: “Forever indebted? I like the sound of that.”
Grace: “Listen … I’ve never been a mom, so I’m not an expert on all mom things, but I’m a girl. So if you ever need a girl to talk to about…”
I shrug
Grace: “…anything, you can talk to me. Okay?”
Morgan’s gaze lifts from her hands to meet the sincerity in my eyes. I feel we’re having a moment. It’s not maternal; it’s friendship. I think she views me as her friend, and I really like that.
Morgan: “Anything?”
I nod.
Grace: “Yes. We are friends. Nothing is off the table.”
Morgan: “Thanks.”
Grace: “You’re welcome. You know where to find me if you need anything else.”
I turn to open the door.
Morgan: “What does a penis taste like?”
I freeze. She didn’t say penis. No way. I heard her wrong.
Grace: “Wh-what’s that?”
I ask without looking back at her.
Morgan: “A penis. Does it taste like any other part of the body?”
Fuuuck!
Grace: “Um …”
Now would be a good time for an earthquake or a meteor to take out the West Coast. A stroke. A heart attack. A sinkhole to engulf this house.
Morgan: “It’s no secret my dad likes you. If you want to have sex with him, that’s okay too. I’m not stupid. I know people have sex even when they’re not making babies. And I know a little about oral sex from my book—the one my dad thinks is about friendship bracelets—but it only explains what it is, not why people do it. I guess I’m just wondering if you like the taste of penises. I can’t imagine they taste good, but my dad also says you have to try something fifteen times before you know if you really like it or not. He also said some things are …”
She snaps her fingers several times.
Morgan: “What’s the word he used …”
More finger snapping.
Morgan: “Oh! An acquired taste.”
This isn’t my normal time of the month to get hot flashes, but every sweat gland in my body just emptied onto my skin, drowning me in embarrassment. It takes me a few seconds to remember I’m forty-one and Morgan is ten. Time to act like the grown-up. Turning, I bite my lips together so hard I’m certain I’ll have permanent indentations. Her nose wrinkles when she sees my unavoidable reaction.
Morgan: “I think I saw something in the kitchen I wasn’t supposed to see.”
I nod slowly, taking a seat beside her so we can stare at the door instead of each other.
Grace: “I think you’re quite advanced for ten, but I’m still not sure what is or isn’t appropriate to discuss with you. Still …”
I scratch my forehead.
Grace: “I think you know more than I want to imagine and definitely more than your dad wants to imagine. So let me just say that I am so very sorry that you saw what you did.”
Morgan: “I’m not mad.”
I chuckle.
Grace: "If you need any help with your period, don’t feel embarrassed to ask your dad. He’s a doctor, you know.”
Morgan: “No way. I’m not talking to him about this. He’ll make it weird,”
says the girl who just asked me what a penis tastes like.
Grace: “Okay. Then I’m your person.”
Morgan: “Thanks, Gracelyn. I bet my mom was cool like you.”
I don’t know why this brings tears to my eyes, but it does.
Grace: “Thank you, Morgan,”
I whisper before leaving her room.
Grace: “First, I just want to say that whatever you thought you owed me before … take it times ten now.”
Her lips curl inward as she gives me a toothy—kind of scary—grin.
Nate: “Okay. Can you elaborate?”
Grace: “Where to begin …”
Her lips twist and she rubs her chin, eyes rolled to the side.
Grace: “Do I start with the fact that she did see what we were doing in the kitchen? Or do I tell you how I know this which is …”
Her gaze returns to mine, eyes slightly narrowed.
Grace: “She said … and I quote, ‘What does a penis taste like?’”
Nate: “Oh god …”
Her lips part.
Grace: “Uh … yeah. Oh God. Jesus. Lord. And Mother Mary. I wanted to die. Legit die.”
I cringe.
Nate: “I’m sorry. I can’t believe she …”
Closing my eyes, I pinch the bridge of my nose.
Nate: “I shouldn’t be surprised.”
Dropping my hand, I sigh.
Nate: “I’ve taught her … encouraged her to be curious, to always ask lots of questions. I’ve never sheltered her from the truth.”
Grace: “Good job, Dad of the Year. Now bend down, lick your dick, and go tell your daughter how it tastes.”
She turns and heads for the steps.
Nate: “Stop!”
I grab her arm and turn her back toward me.
Nate: “I’m serious. What did you say?”
Gracelyn rolls her eyes, a clear sign that she spent too much time with my eye-rolling daughter.
Grace: “The truth. I said it tastes briny with a hint of copper and rust like an oyster. I told her it’s the most succulent, mouthwatering thing she will ever experience.”
I release her arm and have a mini stroke right here on the deck.
Grace: “Don’t collapse, Daddy-O.”
She gently slaps my cheek several times.
Grace: “I didn’t answer her question. I stressed the importance of letting herself be ten and innocent. I apologized more than once for letting her see what she saw. And that’s about it.”
Still in shock from the briny and succulent remarks, I blink several times.
Nate: “H-how … w-what did she say?”
Grace: “She said you’re an overprotective, neurotic, freak of a dad and begged me to show her the ropes of being a true woman before you guys go home in August.”
I frown, not finding her humor too funny in light of my recent mini stroke.
Nate: “I live next door to Satan.”
Nate: “Let’s get you a to-go cup of coffee. Gabe can take over for me. You know how to play chess, buddy?”
Gabe shakes his head.
Morgan: “I’ll show you. I’m an expert.”
Morgan smirks as Gabe sits in Nate’s chair.
Grace: “I had coffee,”
Nate: “I’m sure you did.”
Nate gives me a look and jerks his head toward the door.
Nate: “But it could be a two-cup day. Better play it safe.”
I glance at my watch. Since I don’t have to drop Gabe off at Tyler’s, I have a few spare minutes.
Grace: “Thanks for letting him stay with you and Morgan today.”
I follow Nate to the kitchen, but he doesn’t stop in the kitchen. He turns right to the hallway with the laundry room and half bath.
Grace: “Where are you—”
As soon as I turn the corner, he grabs me, pinning me to the wall and pausing a breath away from my lips.
Nate: “Good morning,”
he whispers with a wicked grin forming along his sexy mouth. I rub my lips together.
Grace: “Morning.”
After a dizzying kiss, he releases me and swats my ass.
Nate: “Have a good day.”
Grace: “What about my coffee?”
I follow him around the corner into the kitchen.
Nate: “I’m actually out of coffee.”
Brandon: “You used to shake around me too.”
Grunting a laugh, I fiddle with the clasp to the bracelet he gave me and close my eyes for a few seconds.
Grace: “Nice of you to finally show up.”
Brandon chuckles.
Brandon: “I’ve always been here. I just didn’t have anything to say.”
Grace: “I had sex with a man who’s leaving in five weeks, jumped half naked from his balcony, and his daughter caught us in a very compromising position. Yet, you have nothing to say until now?”
I back out of the driveway. If anyone saw my lips moving, they’d assume I’m hands-free on a phone call.
Brandon: “I’d say he’s a worthy opponent. My job here is done.”
Grace: “You should get up.”
She glances at me while hooking her bra. I prop my arm behind my head.
Nate: “I will.”
Grace: “Like … now. That took longer than I thought it would. They could be back any minute.”
Nate: “Sorry.”
I chuckle.
Nate: “Maybe next time you shouldn’t hold out for that second orgasm. Pretty damn greedy if you asked me.”
Grace: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She steps back into her capris without making eye contact.
Nate: “Well, God does. You interrupted his busy day several times just to brag.”
I stand and saunter to the bathroom.
Nate: “And don’t even get me started on how damn bossy you are.”
Grace: “I’m not bossy.”
Depositing the condom in the trash, I wash my hands and return to the bedroom to retrieve my clothes. Her gaze snaps from my junk to my eyes.
Nate: “You are so bossy.”
I get dressed at a slightly less worried pace.
Nate: “Harder. Faster. Lower. Don’t stop. You’re such a conductor. I should get you a maestro’s baton, or maybe you’d like something more dominating.”
Before buttoning my shorts or putting on my shirt, I step in front of her with a wry grin.
Nate: “A riding crop?”
With a sexy smirk, she sucks on her finger then presses it to my lips for a second before drawing a line to the waistband of my briefs, her gaze following her finger. My dick starts to stand up again, volunteering for another round.
Grace: “I think I ride you just fine without a riding crop.”
Together we watch her finger teasing my waistband … teasing the head of my erection strained against it. I whisper,
Nate: “Lower.”
On a breathless laugh, she withdraws her finger and retreats a step.
Grace: “Nothing good can come from that.”
I tug on my shirt and suffocate my dick behind my zipper.
Nate: “I beg to differ.”
Gabe: “Oh … that’s not good.”
Gabe pushes through the screen door, staring at his phone.
Grace: “What’s not good?”
I ask, looking up my parents’ location on my phone. They’re still at the airport, probably waiting for a rental car. I told them I’d pick them up, but Dad likes to have his own car, and he hates letting anyone else drive.
Gabe: “I looked up rectal exam. It’s gross.”
Grace: “Gabe …”
I give him a sour look.
Grace: “Don’t look up anything with the word rectal involved. Please preserve your innocence a little.”
He makes his way to the side of the house.
Grace: “Where are you going?”
I pop to my feet from the swing and follow him.
Gabe: “I just want to see the van.”
Grace: “Just … stay back. Mr. Hans doesn’t need you gawking at him when he comes out.”
Gabe keeps inching his way toward the driveway.
Gabe: “I don’t hear him.”
I stop at the stairs to my balcony and take a seat, laughing.
Grace: “What do you expect to hear?”
Gabe: “If someone stuck something up my butt, I’d be screaming.”
Morgan: “Hey, Gabe!”
Morgan calls as she and Nate pull into their driveway on their bikes.
Morgan: “You moving?”
He shakes his head.
Gabe: “It’s not a moving van. It’s an exam van. They’re doing something to Mr. Hans’s butt.”
Oh. My. God … Nate unhooks his helmet and grins at me as I roll my eyes.
Nate: “Please tell me he misheard what’s actually happening,”
he says, sauntering toward me as Morgan and Gabe circle the van like it’s a spaceship and they can’t wait to see the aliens.
Grace: “I wish.”
I give myself one really quick look at Nate in his biking shorts, black fitted biking shirt, fancy biking shoes, and messy hair that’s starting to grow back. Then I force my eyes to stay on his face, squinting against the sun.
Grace: “My nephew now knows that PSA is not just a Public Service Announcement, but also a prostate specific antigen test, DRE stands for digital rectal exam, and when you’re old, someone will drive a van to your house to give your testicles an exam as well. Oh!”
I hold up my finger.
Grace: “Mustn’t forget to mention that Mr. H also compared it to a dog grooming truck, which segued into full disclosure that he could, in fact, use a tidy up down there. So how was your bike ride?”
Nate: “I could kiss you right now,”
he whispers, eyeing my lips.
Grace: “But you won’t because young eyes could be on us.”
Nate: “You might be right.”
He grins.
Nate: “You might be wrong.”
I shrug.
Grace: “Then do it. Kiss me.”
Nate’s gaze flits over my shoulder toward the driveway then returns to me.
Nate: “We’ll see. In the meantime, I’ll count your freckles.”
Grace: “Eighty-two. I counted them this morning. Eight-five yesterday. I’m losing them in spite of all the sun.”
Nate: “You didn’t count your freckles.”
I didn’t, but I like the way his eyes dance with amusement at the tiny prospect that I might not be lying.
Grace: “Don’t pretend you know m—”
He kisses me. Holy shit! He’s kissing me!
Nate: “You leaving, or are you staying to watch me get dressed?”
When her eyes meet mine, she grins.
Grace: “I might stay.”
She shrugs.
Grace: “After all, you watch me strip all the time.”
Nate: “Sometimes.”
I correct her, retrieving briefs and shorts from my dresser. When I drop my towel, her eyes bulge into saucers. Yes. I have an erection.
Grace: “Whoa …”
she says slowly. I smirk, stepping into my briefs.
Nate: “What can I say? I really like your dress.”
She coughs a laugh as her smile grows.
Grace: “Yeah you do.”
After buttoning and zipping my shorts, I snag a tee from the closet and slip it on.
Nate: “Did you enjoy the show?”
I hold out my hand to her to pull her off the bed. She places her hand in mine.
Grace: “More than you can imagine.”
I pull her toward the stairs.
Nate: “Does your mom know you like to stare at naked men after they shower?”
She snorts a laugh.
Grace: “No. She raised me better than that.”
I turn toward her after taking one step down.
Nate: “What happened?”
She presses her hands to my cheeks.
Grace: “Professor Nathaniel Hunt, American Jamie, hockey showoff, endearing single dad …”
Her thumb brushes along my bottom lip. She does it a lot. I like it … a lot.
Grace: “He said he wanted to kiss me.”
She shrugs, trapping her lower lip between her teeth, giving me that sexy smile.
Grace: “And it shook me like a snow globe or maybe more like a martini because after he said it to me, I felt drunk …”
Her voice lowers to barely even a whisper.
Grace: “You’re so…”
she shakes her head slightly, like she’s trying to figure it out as she goes
Grace: “…intoxicating.”
I tried to love Andy and Michael the way I loved Brandon. My brain pushed my heart to feel something it didn’t—it tried to make it see reason and reality. We can’t turn off the sun, run from the wind, or push back the tide. Some forces are just too strong. Love isn’t an emotion. It’s a force.
Grace: “Now … I want to give you a little advice about boys. Ignore them until they chase you, until they write you a million love letters, until they steal flowers from their mom’s rose garden to give you, until they steal that first kiss and give you the best grin before they tell you they regret nothing.”
I answer her with an unexpected hug from behind like the one Morgan gave me. She pauses her stirring of the brownie batter.
Mom: “Whoa … what is this all about?”
Grace: “I wanted to be a mom,”
I whisper in her ear, resting my chin on her shoulder.
Grace: “Brandon and I were going to have two kids, a dog, and goldfish. I wanted the chance to be awesome like you. Maybe not with the apron, but still pretty awesome.”
She laughs on a tiny sob, resting the spoon in the bowl and covering my hands with hers.
Grace: “I hate that Brandon is gone. I hate that Kyle and Emily died. I hate that Gabe lost the two most important people in his life. But…”
I draw in a shaky breath
Grace: “…I’m going to love him like a mom would love her son. I’m going to give him everything I would have given my own children. This is the most heartbreaking way to come into motherhood, but I’m going to embrace what I’ve been given. I’m going to make you proud.”
She squeezes my hands.
Mom: “Oh, Gracelyn … there hasn’t been a single day of your life that I haven’t been proud of you. And I’ve always known you’d be a wonderful mom. Don’t ever doubt that … and don’t ever doubt yourself.”
I’m falling in love with another man—not like I fell in love with Andy, not like I fell in love with Michael. I’m falling in love with Nate the way I fell in love with Brandon. Heart first. Slowly. Completely.
Nate: “Trust is fragile. You have to be careful with it. It’s easy to break someone’s trust, even if you love them. I’m not saying it’s not an important component of a relationship, but it can’t be everything. I was an ornery child, who occasionally got into fights and told many white lies. My parents didn’t always trust me, but they always loved me. They forgave my mistakes and my lies. You have to treat trust like modeling clay that can be broken and repaired a million times, not like a priceless vase that belonged to your dead grandmother.”
Nate: "Trust is a leap of faith. I think if you wanted to trust him, if you wanted to believe the words from his mouth, then you would have given him a second chance. Here’s the thing … you have to love the person more than you hate the lie. There’s not a lie Morgan could tell me that I would hate more than I love her.”
Grace: “Life dies in a blink, but death … it lives for eternity. It’s infected every relationship since him.”
Nate: “If you take that off…”
I nod to the bracelet
Nate: “…a day from now, a month from now, ten years from now … if it’s not until your next life … I want to be the first to know.”
Her lips part, but her eyes remain unblinking and red with emotion.
Nate: “Okay?”
I take two steps, putting us toe to toe. A shaky breath rattles her body.
Nate: “Say it.”
She rubs her quivering lips together and blinks, sending a new stream of tears down her cheeks while keeping her gaze locked to my chest.
Nate: “Say it.”
She shakes her head slowly.
Grace: “Y-you can’t ask that … y-you c-can’t just call … dibs on me in the next life.”
Nate: “Yes!”
I can’t hide my emotions any longer. My fingers dive into my hair as I tug at it, feeling overwhelmed with frustration. They go from my hair to her face, framing it as I back her into the bathroom until her backside hits the vanity. I bend down forcing her to look at me.
Nate: “I’ve traveled for eight years and countless miles to get here. Right. Here. It’s my turn to get the girl. I’ve earned it. So … yeah … I call dibs. Dibs. Dibs. Dibs! I will fucking level anyone in this life or the next that tries to steal you from me. So just …”
I blow out a breath and close my eyes.
Nate: “Say it.”
Grace: “Before … everything.”
She laughs a little.
Grace: “Before Brandon. Before I had the chance to fall in love. I dreamed of you. You didn’t have a face or a name. Your voice was simply a medley of my favorite love songs, the whisper in my head when reading my favorite poems about love. You were the reason I woke up two hours before school to do my hair and makeup in hopes that some boy would give me a second glance. It was you … the idea of you. The dream of you. The promise from my adoring mother that someday I would find my Romeo. When my brain managed to think about something other than hockey or boys … my heart was still thinking of you.”
She curls her hair behind her ear and risks a quick, almost shy, glance up at me.
Grace: “It’s hard to believe that Brandon was nothing more than something … someone I had to experience to find my way to you. And now it’s hard to understand how you’re here. Yet, you’re leaving. And six months ago, I would have loaded up my car and followed you anywhere and just … figured out how to deal with my past one day at a time, but I can’t follow you. And you can’t stay. And that’s okay. It means we have people who need us … need us to do the right thing more than we need each other right now. So …”
She blots the corners of her eyes. Her bravery is just as beautiful as she is.
Grace: “I’m going to focus on doing right by Gabe. And in my free time, I’m going to work on these memories that still haunt me. And if some unforeseen path brings us together, I will feel blessed beyond words.”
Her red eyes meet mine.
Grace: “And if it doesn’t, I want you to know … you’ve been everything the ten-year-old version of me dreamed you would be. And more. So much more.”
Grace: “Promise me you’ll be you. Promise me you’ll call me anytime you need to talk girl stuff. Promise me you’ll wait for the boy who truly deserves your heart. And…”
A few more tears escape
Grace: “…promise me you’ll take care of your dad.”
Morgan: “I promise.”
Morgan: “Why did you kiss her like you did … in the rain … if you’re not going to write her a letter?”
I release her hair and curl it behind her ears.
Nate: “And what should I say if I write to her?”
The truth? I have no fucking clue, and that’s why I haven’t brought myself to do it. Well, not true. I’ve started dozens of letters, but they’ve all ended up in the shredder. She rolls her eyes to the ceiling.
Morgan: “Hmm … maybe: My Dearest Gracelyn, the world is a dark place without you. I can still taste your lips on mine—”
Nate: “Whoa!”
I grab her sides, making her jump.
Nate: “What have you been reading? Where have you heard such things?”
Morgan giggles as I continue to tickle her.
Morgan: “Stop!”
She wriggles out of my hold and jumps out of bed. My darling little girl looks adorable in her girly jeans with sequins on the back pockets and her pink (always pink) sweater. She crosses her arms over her chest.
Morgan: “I’m serious. You have to send her a letter. I would be so mad if a boy kissed me like that and then ghosted me.”
Nate: “Ghosted you?”
She rolls her eyes.
Morgan: “God … you’re so old.”
Morgan: “I know … she could marry someone else before then. Or you could marry someone here. If Mrs. Calloway weren’t married, you could marry her. Well, maybe not. You’re a lot older. Her husband brought her lunch last week, so the class got to meet him. He has tattoos and he’s so cute. After he handed her her lunch, he kissed her cheek, and everyone said aw. Her face turned red.”
I don’t expect anything less. If I’m honest, I’ve wanted Swayze’s happiness far more than my own.
Nate: “She married a real boyfriend.”
I smile, knowing the joke is lost on Morgan. Daisy used to say she was using me until she found a real boyfriend. Griffin Calloway walked to the ends of the earth and slayed the Devil himself to save Swayze from the demons of her past. Daisy got her real boyfriend … just in a different life.
Morgan: “What’s a real boyfriend?”
I glance back in the mirror to her cocked head and curious expression.
Nate: “A boyfriend who loves you beyond reason, even when he’s not sure you love him the same way.”
Morgan: “I want one of those.”
Nate: “In twenty years, baby girl … twenty years.”
Grace: You’re the only man who has given me more than one orgasm during sex. Is it your vast knowledge … your eleven years of studying anatomy?
He responds right away.
Nate: You’re welcome.
Nate: “You’re glowing today. Have you recently been well fucked by an anatomy professor?”
I cough on my laugh as my head swivels in both directions to see if anyone heard him because he didn’t use his library voice at all.
Grace: “Thursday afternoon. I need to be to the airport by eleven.”
Nate: “It’s Sunday.”
He grins.
Grace: “Yes …”
I lean into him, giving his bottom lip a tug with my teeth.
Grace: “Your point?”
He gathers my hair into a ponytail and pulls it until I tip my chin up.
Nate: “My point is I get you until Thursday.”
He kisses my neck.
Grace: “You get me until tomorrow. Then I’ll be hanging out with my BFF Morgan in her awesome tree house I see out back. And playing fetch with Joby.”
Nate: “And at night, you’ll be riding my cock.”
He sits back, twisting his lips.
Nate: “Huh … did I say that out loud?”
Grace: “Cute. You’d better clean that mouth up before your eleven-year-old daughter returns.”
Nate: “I’ll return to my best behavior when they pull in the driveway … tomorrow.”
Nate: “I love you more than I loved Jenna. Not because I didn’t love them with my whole heart. I did. It’s just that my time away with Morgan has taught me one thing. Our capacity to love grows with time. It grows with every new person who touches our lives. So I love you more because my heart is bigger.”
Nate: “Did you really want to be?”
Yes.
Grace: “Doesn’t matter.”
Nate: “Gracelyn, quit saying that. It matters to me.”
Grace: “Well, it shouldn’t.”
Nate: “But it does. We should have talked about it. Really talked about it. And now I’m worried you’re not telling me how you feel. You can—”
Grace: “Yes!”
I cover my mouth, hoping Gabe didn’t hear me. My lips quiver, holding in the sobs.
Nate: “You wanted a baby,”
he whispers. I nod several times before I can speak without completely losing it.
Grace: “Yes.”
He says nothing. I have to believe he’s dealing with his own feelings about this. I just don’t know exactly what they are.
Grace: “Nate …”
Nate: “Then come home. And let’s make a baby.”
I swallow all the doubt, the what-ifs, the hard reality that I might not be able to get pregnant. For now, I let hope back into my life.
Grace: “Okay.”
She sighs and looks at me with a soft smile.
Morgan: “I read a story about love. The character in the book said you can’t buy a happily ever after … you can’t buy love. But I could. For three thousand dollars I bought you and Gracelyn a happily-ever-after.”
Oh … my … fucking … heart … This girl.
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