Her Texas New Year's Wish Page 6

  “I’m not sure,” Nicole said, her tone hesitant. “She barely knows you.”

  Exactly, Wiley thought to himself. He needed an excuse to spend time with her. Maybe that would quench the thirst he had deep in his soul when it came to Grace. “She won’t think I have an ulterior motive with regards to her job security.”

  Callum barked out a rough laugh. “You’re an attorney. She’ll think you have an ulterior motive. Your profession isn’t known for rampant altruism.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Wiley grumbled. “Come on, Callum. I want to help while I’m here, and I’m here until all of this gets settled.” He turned his attention to his sister. “I promise I’ll be nice to Grace and make sure she knows her healing is our top priority. At least let me start the conversation with her. If it doesn’t go well, you can take over.”

  Nicole looked like she wanted to argue, then glanced at Callum. “We’re overextended as it is. If Wiley wants to talk to Grace, I guess that would be okay. But being nice is no joke.”

  “Nicole is right.” Callum leveled him with a steely stare. “Don’t go corporate attorney and terrify her or offend her family. The whole point of the hotel’s training program is to generate goodwill within the community by offering opportunities to Rambling Rose locals, and now one of them has been hurt on the job. Any way you look at it, the situation is a PR nightmare. We have to keep Grace happy.”

  Wiley wasn’t about to go into all the ways he wanted to keep Grace happy. “I understand,” he said, hoping his expression didn’t give away the anticipation building inside him now that he had a reason to visit her. “Nicole, would you text me her parents’ address? I’ll stop by tomorrow and then check in with you both and let you know how it went.”

  He said goodbye and headed for his car. All he could think about was the impending visit to Grace’s house and how he couldn’t wait to be near her again.

  * * *

  Grace sat on the overstuffed couch in her parents’ cozy family room the following morning, staring at the book in her hand and realizing she’d read the same page three times. With a groan, she flung the paperback across the room. It slammed into the wall and dropped with a thud to the floor just as her mother appeared in the doorway.

  “I guess you’re not a fan of romance novels,” Barbara said with a shake of her head. “Grace, if you’re done with the outburst, you have a visitor.”

  “Sorry,” Grace muttered. “I just hate lying around like this. I feel so useless.” She raised a brow when she finally met her mother’s gentle gaze. Barbara’s cheeks were flushed, and she worried her hands in front of her. “What is it? Who’s here, Mom?”

  Her mother glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the front hall and gestured the visitor forward. “It’s...um...”

  “Hello, Grace.” Wiley came to stand next to her mom. “I apologize for not calling first. It actually didn’t cross my mind until your mom answered the door. If this isn’t a good time...”

  “It’s... No...this is...great...fine... I’m happy to... It’s fine...” She started to straighten, nervous energy scrambling her brain cells. Wiley Fortune, the man who had consumed her thoughts since he’d walked out of her hospital room two days earlier, had come to see her. He was standing in her parents’ modest house, staring at her like—well, like she was someone special.

  “Grace appreciates you stopping by,” her mother said, the corner of her mouth twitching.

  Realizing she wasn’t going anywhere gracefully with the cast, Grace settled back onto the cushions and offered Wiley a friendly smile. She hoped it came off as friendly and not deranged, although he made her feel just a touch unbalanced. “What she said,” Grace muttered.

  Barbara picked up the book Grace had thrown against the wall and handed it to Wiley. “Have a seat,” she told him. “I’ll check on the two of you in a bit. Would you like a glass of iced tea, Wiley?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

  Color crept up Barbara’s cheeks as Wiley focused his attention on her. See, Mom, Grace thought. You can be suspicious all you want, but a man that handsome is hard to resist.

  When her mother disappeared toward the kitchen, Wiley took another step into the room, glancing down at the book he held.

  “Don’t you dare make fun,” Grace said, tugging on the hem of the Rambling Rose High School sweatshirt she wore. She hadn’t dressed expecting visitors. Her parents had grabbed a random assortment of clothes from her apartment, so this morning Grace had thrown on an old high school sweatshirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants after cutting off one leg at the knee. Now she wished she’d thought to dab on a bit of lip gloss or at least a spritz of perfume.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Wiley promised. “I assume the duke mentioned in the title would be the brawny man on the cover.”

  “You’d assume correctly.”

  “I never imagined old-time aristocrats to be gym rats—” He held up the book and tapped a finger on one of the duke’s broad shoulders “—but this one is quite the impressive physical specimen.”

  “He fences and boxes,” Grace said, hiding her smile.

  “Ah.” Wiley placed the book on the coffee table. “That explains it. Although not why I heard the book crashing against the wall when I arrived. Too much throwing punches and not enough wooing for your taste?”

  “Plenty of wooing,” she confirmed. “But I’m already sick of sitting around.” She reached out a hand and brushed an invisible crumb off the cast. “I’m going to go crazy by the time my ankle heals.”

  Wiley offered her a smile so sweet it made her knees go weak. “We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” he promised.

  Grace desperately wanted to believe Wiley. Still her family’s warnings ricocheted through her brain, and she told herself not to be taken in by his charm. Was that even possible? “Shouldn’t you be back in Chicago?”

  He lowered himself into the chair beside the couch, and she tried to see her parents’ house through his eyes. It looked much the same as it had when she’d been a kid, with wood-paneled walls, bookshelves filled with family photos and her father’s collection of historical nonfiction books.

  “I’ve decided to stay in Rambling Rose until the hotel opens.”

  She tried to keep her features neutral even as excitement spiraled through her. Did that mean he wanted to see her more over the next few weeks? She should know better than to read too much into the way he looked at her, but she couldn’t seem to stop her body’s reaction to the intensity of his gaze.

  “I’m sure that makes your brothers and sisters happy.”

  “For now.” He laughed softly. “I’m going to make sure everything is in order with employment agreements and contracts for the various businesses they’ve gotten involved in. They’ll be happy to have me here unless it makes more work for them.”

  “I doubt that. I can tell from seeing them interact at the hotel that your family is really close.”

  “They are,” he murmured.

  “Why doesn’t it sound like you include yourself in that ‘they’?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve always been a sort of odd man out when it comes to our branch of the Fortune family. For me, it was important to feel like I’m making my own way, which is why I left Florida for college and didn’t return even after law school. I wanted my life to be my own.”

  “I know how that feels.” She swallowed back the emotion that clogged her throat. “You’re lucky you’ve been able to accomplish it.”

  “Lucky,” he repeated, then frowned. “I suppose you’re right.”

  A few seconds of silence descended between them, and although it was weighted, the quiet didn’t feel uncomfortable. In fact, Grace’s chest loosened as she drew in air laced with Wiley’s spicy scent.

  She snapped back to attention at the sound of a bag crinkling. Her eyes had zeroed in
on his handsome face, and she hadn’t even seen the sack he held.

  “I didn’t come here to bore you with my family dynamics.” Wiley flashed a self-deprecating smile. “I’m here to deliver a get-well care package.”

  “You’ve already brought me flowers.”

  One thick brow arched. “Is there a limit on the number of gifts I’m allowed to bring you?”

  She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of that question. “I’m not going to put one on you.” She reached for the bag he now held out. “I’m just not used to being on the receiving end of so much generosity.” She inwardly cringed, embarrassed to admit she was comparing Wiley to her ex-boyfriend. Craig had been steady and reliable—or so she’d thought—but never the romantic type.

  Grace had convinced herself she didn’t care. She thought it was important to have a man she could build a life with, not someone who lavished her with gifts and romantic gestures. She got enough of that vicariously through books and movies.

  As she peeked in the brown paper bag with the Hotel Fortune logo stamped on the outside, she tried to remember that Wiley was just being nice because she was a hotel employee. His brothers and sisters were all busy with preparations for the opening and taking care of their other businesses in town. Chances were good that they’d designated him as the family liaison for the injured employee. At least that’s what Grace’s brother would tell her.

  She put aside thoughts of her ankle and her brother as she pulled out a stack of puzzles, a candle and a box of chocolates. “How thoughtful. I love all of it. You didn’t have to...” She glanced up at him as she continued to remove items from the seemingly bottomless bag. “Did you buy one of everything in the hotel gift shop?”

  Wiley scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Just about. I didn’t know what type of games you might like, so I got word searches, sudoku and crossword puzzles.”

  “I like word searches,” she told him with a smile.

  He nodded. “They had both dark chocolate and milk, and I can tell you my sisters are very specific with their chocolate, so I got a box of each.”

  “I like both.” She held up two candles.

  “They both smelled good,” he said, sounding almost embarrassed that he’d packed so much into the bag. “But not as good as you. You smell like a spring rain shower.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “Do I sound like a sad imitation of your romance duke?”

  “No, but for the record I smell like water,” she said with a laugh, then reached out and patted Wiley’s leg when he frowned. “I’m joking. The lotion I use is actually named Rainforest Mist so you’re right on the money with that.”

  Wiley’s eyes darkened even more and the space between them seemed to shift—growing thick with a yearning that Grace didn’t understand, although it sent shivers rippling along her skin.

  “Thank you,” she managed after a weighted moment. “I appreciate all of this and you coming to see me. I haven’t reached out to many friends because I don’t want to talk about the accident. People are so curious, and I just want to forget.”

  There was an immediate shift in Wiley, as if she’d just doused him with a bucket of icy water. “I figured people would be talking to you about the incident. In fact, a reporter came by the hotel on Sunday. The local paper is doing an article on the circumstances of the accident.”

  The thought of having her name associated with the event that was bringing the hotel bad publicity made Grace’s stomach clench, but she nodded. “He reached out to me, as well. He wants to interview me for the story.”

  “Are you going to talk to him?”

  She shrugged. “I guess I should, but I’m not ready yet. Don’t worry, though. I’ll be sure to make it clear that the hotel had nothing to do with the balcony’s collapse.”

  “You don’t have to do that. We appreciate your loyalty, Grace, but you can speak freely.”

  “I know,” she whispered, distressed by the formality that had seeped into his tone. “But it’s true. Obviously, I wish it wouldn’t have happened, but the hotel isn’t responsible.”

  His opened his mouth as if to deny her claim, then closed it again. “Speaking of the hotel...” He flashed a smile that was different from the one he’d given her before. It didn’t reach his eyes. “I do have a speck of official business to discuss with you.”

  “Sure.” Grace ignored her disappointment and reminded herself that she could read whatever she wanted into the way Wiley looked at her. That didn’t make the promise in his gaze something real.

  “Callum, Nicole and I talked about coordinating a small community event before the official grand opening. Nothing elaborate or time-consuming for the staff, but something that would...”

  “Make people forget that I could have died in the balcony collapse?”

  He blew out a shaky breath. “Yes.”

  She nodded, appreciating that he didn’t try to sugarcoat the motivation. There was nothing wrong with what the hotel wanted to do. The Fortunes were running a business, and they needed positive PR. They couldn’t run a successful hotel without paying customers. If the hotel didn’t make money, Grace wouldn’t have to worry whether her injury would prevent her from earning the promotion. There would be no promotion to be had.

  “It’s a great idea.” She sat forward on the sofa, lifting her cast leg and placing her foot on the floor. The doctor had told her it was important to elevate the leg, but somehow she felt too much like a blushing maiden from one of her historical romances sprawled out on her parents’ sofa as she and Wiley discussed actual business. Grace was thrilled to talk about something other than the accident, even if she wasn’t officially on the clock. “I’d actually recommend focusing on other local business owners. We should also involve the spa and Provisions. Nicole and Roja can provide the food—samplings from the regular menu. I bet even the vet clinic could set up a booth in conjunction with a local animal rescue. It’s important to remind the community leaders how much your family has already contributed to the town and give a glimpse of how good it’s going to be. A Rambling Rose partnership would benefit everyone.”

  “Those are great suggestions.”

  Grace held up a hand. “I’m not done.” She shifted again, wishing she could get up and pace as she worked through the possibilities in her head. Her crutches rested against the stone fireplace on the wall across from the seating arrangement, but she didn’t want to bother with hopping over to retrieve them. Plus, she’d look like a complete fool trying to pace using crutches. For what felt like the millionth time since Saturday night, she cursed that blasted fall.

  “Tell me more.” Wiley reached out and squeezed her hand, as if he could sense her frustration. His touch had the immediate effect of calming her, and she drew in a breath before continuing.

  “We want Rambling Rose businesess to feel connected to the hotel. Do you think your brothers and sisters would consider offering a ‘locals’ weekend’?”

  “Um...probably.”

  She clapped her hands together. “I should have thought of that even before the accident. The hotel can give a discounted rate for a particular weekend, one during a slow season where occupancy would naturally be down. They’d get the great deal if they booked during the reception, and we could do a raffle for a free dinner for two at Roja.” She paused and scrunched up her nose. “I keep saying ‘we,’ but I mean ‘you’ obviously. The Fortunes and the employees who are actually working. I’m sure other people will have ideas, as well.” Jillian, Grace thought inwardly, would have plenty.

  “Are you interested in the ‘we’ part?” Wiley asked and, once more, Grace’s brain seemed to short-circuit. All she could think about was a “we” that involved her and Wiley. She was interested like nobody’s business.

  “Yes,” she managed, hoping he assumed she was talking about being engaged on a professional level.

  “There’s no pressure,
of course.” He smiled at her again, encouraging and warm, and she felt it all the way to her toes. “I’m being nice, right?”

  She frowned. “Is that a trick question?”

  “Nicole warned me I had to be nice,” he said with another laugh. “Callum told me not to act like an attorney.”

  “I actually haven’t been thinking about you being an attorney during this visit,” she admitted. “If that helps.”

  “Good.” He nodded. “If you think you’re up for it, we’d like you to handle the reception. You can take care of a lot of the planning from here. Whatever works best for your recovery. Obviously, you’re qualified based on the rush of ideas you just offered. Getting more buy-in from local business owners makes sense to me, although you’ll have to run that focus by my siblings. Again, only if you feel like it wouldn’t be too much.”

  “No.” She tried to breathe around the knot that had formed in her chest. This was her dream come true as far as the scenario for the weeks of her recovery.

  “No, you’re not up for it?” His brows drew together.

  “No, it’s not too much. I’d love to be involved in any capacity. If you feel like I can handle it, then absolutely yes. I’d love it.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  At the sound of the booming male voice, Grace glanced at the door to find her father standing next to her mother, his arms crossed over his chest in a stance Grace knew all too well. Barbara held a tray with iced tea glasses and a bowl of pretzels. The look she threw Grace was both resigned and apologetic.

  This would be a battle, and it was one she didn’t intend to lose.

  Chapter Five

  Wiley stood as Grace’s father entered the room. “Hello, sir. Grace and I were just discussing—”

  “She’s not going back.” Mike narrowed his eyes at Wiley, then switched his glare to Grace. “You aren’t going back.”

  “Dad, I’m a grown woman.” She made to stand, but her cast hit the edge of the coffee table, and she sat back down, wincing as pain radiated up her leg.