bedroom. “You have no leg to stand on, young lady.”
Grace gritted her teeth. She entered the living room, her arms crossed. “I’m not some teenager. I’m an adult. I can go where I please.”
“Yes, you can. You can do whatever you want. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to say anything about it. When are you going to get your act together? Sneaking out at all hours of the night while working at a dead-end job at a diner? Is this the kind of life you want?”
She hugged herself, feeling exhaustion swamp her limbs. Did her father have to constantly remind her how much of a failure she was? “I’m sorry I kept you up,” she said in a quiet voice. “I’m going to sleep.”
“You didn’t answer my question: what are you doing with your life, Grace?”
She dug her fingers into her back. The ultimate question, and one she couldn't answer. All of the pleasure, the joy of the past few hours evaporated. Biting the inside of her cheek, she replied, “Good night, Dad.”
She hurried upstairs, closing her door and locking it, like she could keep out her father’s questions. Everything collided until she felt tears falling down her cheeks: Jaime’s kisses, his touch, how much she’d wanted him. How she felt lost and useless and confused about her life in general. How she wanted to paint but couldn’t even manage that anymore.
She wiped at the tears, collapsing onto her bed. She inhaled her shirt, smelling Jaime on it. It calmed her. The knot in her belly unraveled a little.
Even if she couldn’t get her life in order, she thought, she could help Jaime get his back. She could find evidence that he was innocent. She could help him—she knew she could. She imagined his face when she told him this, and it allowed her to fall asleep, her heart not as heavy as it would’ve been otherwise.
Chapter Twelve
Despite the investigation, River’s Bend ran as it ever did. Now approaching Christmas, Jaime and the staff prepared their holiday menu, which generally brought in a decent amount of revenue before the close of the year. He worked with Adam on what to serve, ordered the necessary food, and showed his interns and chefs new techniques and recipes. Even Eric seemed somewhat engaged, although Jaime didn’t expect that would last very long.
Showing his staff how to make the best rack of lamb one afternoon, Jaime found himself in a better mood than he had in ages. Mostly because he couldn’t stop thinking about Grace or what had happened in his house just a few days prior. He knew he should feel guilty about it. He’d told himself he wouldn’t get involved with her further, that it would only result in difficulties for him at work.
But his cheery mood wouldn't let him be plagued by guilt and doubts. For now, he was going to enjoy this small bit of happiness, especially since the investigation had yet to be resolved.
After letting the rack of lamb rest for a few minutes, he gathered his staff around him to show them how it should look. “You want it as rare as you can manage it,” he said, cutting between each bone, showing them the dark pink centers. “Overcooked lamb is a terrible thing.”
Everyone oohed looking at the lamb, juicy and smelling heavenly. Jaime placed each piece on a plate and let them eat it with the mint chutney he’d prepared along with it.
“When you’re finished,” he said, looking at all of them, “I want you to pair up into groups of threes to prepare your own lamb. I’d let you each cook your own, but we can’t really afford it right now.” He smiled wryly. “Be sure you don’t mess up, otherwise Adam will have my neck for wasting food.”
Watching his staff get to work, first scoring the fat on the lamb before searing it in hot olive oil, Jaime could only hope against hope that he wouldn’t have to leave this place. That the investigation would lead away from him and he could move on with his life. When he’d first arrived at River’s Bend five years ago, he had never expected it would burrow into his heart like it had. But it had become home, and the people here had become like family. The Danvers in particular—Adam, his parents. Grace.
Jaime swallowed. He never would have thought Grace Danvers would’ve taken hold of him like she had. When he’d first met her, she’d been