I, Gracie - Sharon Sala Page 0,69

still have some phone calls to make before it gets any later, and I have a dinner date tonight."

"Ooh! May I be so nosy as to ask who with?"

"John Gatlin. He mows your—"

"Girl, I know who he is. He's a good friend, and a good man. I didn't know you two had met."

"On my first day in Branson," Gracie said.

"Small world," Lucy said. "Before you go, I want to send something with you. I made blueberry muffins today," she said, and took off into the house on the run.

Blueberry muffins sounded amazing. And Gracie had nowhere else to be. A couple of minutes later, Lucy was back carrying a pretty little gift bag and a small jar of jelly.

"I like jelly on my muffins," Lucy said, and handed them over.

"This is homemade jelly!" Gracie said.

"Yes...strawberry. I get it from Silver Dollar City. Their craft stores are amazing."

"Thank you," Gracie said. "Such an unexpected treat."

"Any time," Lucy said, then watched until Gracie went into the garage, closing the door behind her. "Bless her heart," Lucy muttered. "Just bless her heart."

Cool air wrapped around Gracie like a hug as she entered the kitchen and set her gifts on the counter. Of all the welcome changes in her life, having a cool place to come home to was best. She danced herself down the hall doing a two-step, and then dropped her purse on the bed and kicked off her shoes.

"I, Gracie, am now a productive member of society!" she announced, flopped down on the bed, and got her phone to send Darlene a text.

I have a job at Majestic Floral Design, and I'm going to dinner tonight with John.

Within moments, she got a reply.

Yay for you, and who the hell is John?

Gracie laughed.

A nice guy who owns his own landscape business. That is all.

She hit Send, and then got up to change into shorts and a t-shirt. She was full of pent-up energy from the excitement of her success, so she got the lemon oil and a dust rag and began going through the apartment, wiping down the woodwork. Next, she took a dust mop to the hardwood floors.

When she was through, she ate half a blueberry muffin because they smelled too good to wait for breakfast. As she was eating, she thought about dinner tonight with John and shivered. The unknown was unnerving, but she felt happy—really happy—for the first time in a very long time.

John got the crews in early and locked up the office as soon as his men drove away. Satisfied, he headed home to shower and change. He wanted tonight to be special for Gracie because she was so special to him.

Traffic was frustrating, and by the time he got home, he drove fast enough down the drive to his house that it sent the little rabbit into a race to get beneath the deck.

"Sorry, little guy," John said, as he slid to a stop, then got out on the run.

He stripped, leaving his dirty clothes in the floor of the utility room, and took off upstairs. One quick shower and a change of clothes later, he was back out the door. He got in the car, then glanced in the rearview mirror, combed his fingers through his still damp hair, backed up and drove away.

Gracie was dressed and impatiently waiting. She hadn't seen John Gatlin since the day he'd given her back the angel she'd lost, and she was wondering if the image she had of him in her mind was real or exaggerated. What she remembered was dark hair, high cheekbones in a very handsome face, and eyes that flashed when he smiled.

She also knew that if this was going anywhere, then she wasn't hiding one thing about herself, including the scars. She didn't dress to exhibit them, but she also didn't choose clothes to conceal them.

The black slacks and sandals she had on were comfortable, and the turquoise-colored blouse she'd picked to wear with them had three-quarter length sleeves with a scoop neckline. She knew her scars were going to show, but it was now or never. If he was going to bolt, she wanted it to happen before it mattered.

She kept glancing at the time, and then getting up to go to the window, but when she finally saw a big SUV pulling up at her apartment, she almost panicked. Then he got out, and the wide set of his shoulders and his easy stride as he jogged toward the outer stairs made