she had done the opposite.
Gus moved to stand beside her by one of the tables. “I like these.” He was admiring the birdcage of flowers, running a thick finger along the cage much as his son had earlier. Grace shoved away the thought of Owen’s hands caressing anything, even a stone bird, but her ears were attuned to the conversation he was having with his mother and sister. And she had to lecture herself not to inhale deeply before his scent drifted away, replaced by lemon cleaning products, the spicy shrimp appetizers being passed around and her own grapefruit-and-mint perfume.
“You’ve done a fine job, Owen. Julia and Donovan are going to love this.” Evelyn laid a hand on her son’s arm. “Really love it.”
“I hope so.” Owen’s tone was cheerful, as though Grace hadn’t just brushed him off. Again. “Grace certainly worked hard enough.”
A curl of pride wound through her. Not that she didn’t believe she deserved the accolades, but it was always nice to be recognized. And then she felt guilty for brushing him off, since he hadn’t been trying anything. Not this time.
She flicked a glance at him. He was looking back. She felt her breath catch, took that deep breath she’d been avoiding and caught a full breath of that smoky sweetness that was all Owen. Her knees wobbled. Or they might have wobbled on a less tightly controlled person. Grace simply locked her knees and turned her full attention to Gus, who was now scarfing down both the spicy shrimp and the slices of warm baguette being served with it, wearing the beatific look of a man on a diet.
“Not too many, love,” Evelyn called.
“I know, I know. I’ll eat some green stuff, too.” But Gus winked at Grace as he grumbled and then leaned forward as though to impart some wisdom. “She’s always pushing me to eat green stuff. But I really only like it when I grow it myself. You didn’t by any chance create a green-free menu?”
Grace laughed at his hopeful look. “I’m afraid not. But since Julia is a French-inspired chef, it’s all been cooked in lots of butter.”
Gus’s eyes lit up as he called over his shoulder to his wife. “I’ll eat some green veggies when they come out, dear.”
Evelyn smiled. “It’s a celebration. Try everything, just don’t overdo it.”
Gus went back to stand with her, the two of them drawing Mallory into a conversation about a guest they wanted her to meet. Owen moved closer to Grace, hovering by her side, not touching, but close enough.
She got another whiff of him and tried to take only shallow breaths. “My dad had a heart attack at the end of last year.” His voice was low in her ear, his breath warm on her neck. “She’s still worried.”
“Of course she is,” Grace murmured. Mallory had excused herself and left Gus and Evelyn standing together, their heads almost touching as they whispered and smiled. Grace had known them for only a couple of minutes and already she could see how in love they were. It would be hard to recover from losing a love like that. Her heart skipped a beat. Of course, she had to find a man she liked enough to go on a second date with—okay, fine, a first date—before she jumped ahead to love and marriage and a lifetime of togetherness. “That must have been hard.”
“It was. For all of us.”
Grace tilted her head to look at him. His mouth was close to hers and she knew she should step back, but she was afraid she’d bump the table. Yeah, right. The table. That was what was holding her in place. “He looks good.” But she didn’t turn her head toward Gus. She was caught in Owen’s gaze.
“He does.” Owen reached out to brush a strand of hair off her neck. Grace felt the sharp buzz of attraction race through her. “He’s doing well.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” And although she hadn’t known Gus Ford even an hour ago as anything more than the founder of the family company and father to Owen and Donovan, she was glad. Grace didn’t always understand her own parents and she knew they didn’t understand her, but despite their sometimes contentious relationship, she loved them and would be devastated if they fell ill.
“Thanks.” Owen brushed the side of her neck again, though Grace was pretty sure that the strand of hair wasn’t there anymore. She knew she should mind, should take that step back, table or not, and remind both Owen and herself that their relationship was strictly business. She didn’t move.
“And how are you handling it?” Her voice was soft.
“Fine. Most of the time.” He shrugged and moved closer. She could feel his body heat radiating through her thick silk dress, could imagine the hard bunch of his muscles beneath that stylish summer suit. “Maybe you want to hug me? Make it all better?”
And just like that the moment dissolved and washed away on the realization that Owen wasn’t serious. Not about anything. Grace took that step away and didn’t bump the table. “Nice try.”
Owen grinned. If he weren’t so charming, he’d be obnoxious. Actually, she bet he could be obnoxious despite that overabundance of charm. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
She could, but she didn’t. Instead, she pretended that one of her employees was calling her through her earpiece and excused herself from the little family grouping, but she risked a glance over her shoulder as she strode away and saw Owen watching her go, a sleepy appreciation in his eyes.
Grace didn’t want to find him appealing. Not with his insouciant manner, his casual attitude toward most things and his bright green sneakers. But she did. She made herself keep walking as a quiet ache unfurled in her chest.
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