containers of guacamole. She lingered a few seconds longer than she had to, and Grace did a double take, because she was pretty sure the woman’s shirt hadn’t been so…provocative.
“At least two of ‘em.”
She swallowed her food. “Excuse me?”
Josh grinned and dug into the platter. “She undid at least two buttons.”
“You’re unbelievable.” But she couldn’t hide her grin.
“I think that there was in the SI article too.”
The next twenty minutes passed and the two of them chatted about music (he was a huge country fan and had met her sister-in-law Donovan once) and entertainment (he loved chick flicks—who knew). Grace was just starting to relax when the door to The Grill opened, bringing with it a gust of wind and twenty or so men. They spilled into the place and instantly the energy changed. The guys all headed toward the bar, along with the few women who’d followed them in. Grace watched from the shadows and tried to remain calm. But she somehow knew. Her heart sped up and she nearly choked on a nacho chip.
The last man to walk into the bar strode into the place as if he owned it. Dressed in jeans and black leather with a black knit hat pulled low over his head, he had his arm around a slim redhead. Smiling widely at the guys ahead of him, he took Grace’s breath away. She wanted to look away but couldn’t, and when he reached down and swept a kiss beside the redhead’s mouth, her heart actually hurt.
“Shit,” she whispered. This was worse than she thought it could ever be. Not only had her feelings stayed, they’d intensified.
“So that’s it then.”
Slowly she came back to earth and tore her eyes from Matt to focus on Josh.
“What?” Mouth dry, she licked her bottom lip and reached for her mug of beer. She needed to do something with her hands. No. She needed to be somewhere else.
“Your deal.”
“My deal?”
Josh nodded. “That guy over there. He’s your deal.”
Grace stared across the table at Josh Hayden for several long moments. The men got louder as the beer started to flow, and the music cranked up a notch. There was no point in lying.
Slowly, her eyes returned to Matt, who had sidled up to the bar and was chatting with handlebar-guy. “Yeah,” she said softly. “That’s him. That’s Matt.”
Josh sat back in his seat and signaled the waitress. “So what are you going to do about it?”
Grace glanced back at Josh but she had nothing. For the last six weeks, she’d envisioned what she’d say to Matt Hawkins should she ever get the chance to see him again. And now that the moment was at hand, she was hiding.
That wasn’t who she was. That wasn’t who she wanted to be.
The waitress came over. “You guys want another round?”
Did she? The redhead slid onto the seat beside Matt and an ugly wash of something rolled through Grace. It was time to put this crap to rest. She’d say her piece and move on.
“Uh huh,” she murmured, tearing her eyes from Matt to nod at the waitress. “One more.”
Josh raised an eyebrow and drained his mug before slapping it down on the table. “Good call.”
Grace didn’t answer. Her stomach was in knots. Her heart rate would make any doctor insane. And she was pretty sure that her cheeks were the same color as the cranberry juice in the glass at the next table. She was hot and bothered and more alive than she’d felt in weeks.
Good call? Only time would tell.
4
“You going to the arena tomorrow?”
Matt wiped the foam at the corner of his mouth and shrugged. He’d been planning on it but he had Rosie to deal with, and he wasn’t so sure that situation was going to work itself out in time.
“Not sure yet,” he replied, reaching for the basket of popcorn Duke Everett had placed on the bar.
The bar owner huffed. “We need you there for indoor volleyball. Not to mention the hockey game. They’re bringing in some big guns and I don’t like to lose to a bunch of Hollywood pansies and spoiled athletes.”
“Better not let Betty hear you talking like that, Duke. Her husband is one of those Hollywood-type pansies.”
“Bah,” Duke barked. “Beau’s all right. Besides. He won’t be here.” Duke’s eyebrow shot up. “Or will he? You know something I don’t? Did he come to town with Betty?”
“Betty doesn’t fly in until tomorrow, but no, she’s coming alone. Beau’s stuck filming in New Orleans for at