her to meet my parents tomorrow. Does that count?”
“She said yes to that? Good.”
“She did.” He couldn’t help sounding proud. “I told her she was doing me a favor.”
“If you hurt her I will take all of your fancy, expensive knives down to the beach and use them to cut firewood.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Nico said. “Duly noted.” He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he locked them up at night.
HE MISSED HIS chance to help Grace to bed. He had to deal with seventeen text messages and nine voice mails. The texts, from his sisters and his nephew, involved food, dog care and requests for wine recommendations. The voice mails were from his father, his mother, three friends vacationing in Mexico and his agent in LA.
His cell phone rang again once he arrived back home with Grace in tow. She’d insisted on using the ramp and managed just fine by holding on to the railing. It was clear she was feeling better, which meant he’d soon have to let her go.
But maybe not for long. She’d kissed him last night as if she’d meant it.
He had hope.
A lot of hope.
She blew him a kiss before she limped down the hall, Al following devotedly behind her, just as Nico wished he could.
“MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE. Nice dress.” He held out a cup of coffee as she hobbled into the kitchen.
“I try to match the wedding colors. Merry Christmas Eve to you, too.” She sat down and leaned her crutch against her chair before taking the cup. “Thank you.”
It was early, not quite eight o’clock, but Grace had set the alarm on her phone. She knew that the earlier she was at work today the better. She’d showered and dressed in a burgundy lace dress that she could wear all day. The shoes were an issue. She needed flats—well, a left one—for her one uninjured foot. The garnet Manolos she’d planned on wearing were not going to work.
“Wedding day,” he said, taking a big gulp of coffee. “Got to get the caffeine working.” He was dressed casually, in a black sweater and jeans. His hair curled, damp from the shower, and he looked sleepy. “I’m looking forward to it, but I am not a morning person.”
“What should I bring to your parents’ house? I can’t arrive empty-handed.” She’d thought about that the moment she woke up: hostess gift!
“Not food,” he said, looking at his watch. “I can make breakfast here or at work. It’s up to you. Maria’s doing muffins today, for the Christmas buffet tomorrow.”
“Muffins. Well, half a muffin,” she amended, thinking about the feast that awaited later at the Vitellisʼ house. “Nico, give me an idea for today. I woke up at five o’clock worrying about it.”
“Women are strange creatures.”
“Yes, we are. Strange creatures with manners.”
“Get a bottle of scotch. My father loves single malts.”
“Single malt,” she repeated seriously. “Got it. And your mother?”
“Candle freak.”
“Seriously?”
“Like I could make that up?”
“Any special scent?”
“For what?”
“The candles.”
He frowned, stared absently into the distance. “Not that I know of.” He reached for his cell phone and punched out a text. “Cath will know.”
Sure enough, two minutes later he got an answer. Nico showed Grace the screen: Any. Bigger better.
So Grace would buy single-malt scotch and a humongous candle before one oʼclock, along with preparing the rooms for the wedding and getting the staff set up with their assigned chores.
Piece of cake, even on one foot.
“Drink up,” she said. “We have to get going. Do you mind stopping at my place to pick up some shoes? And drop off my things?” She thought about that for a second. Nico rummaging through her closet. It was clean and organized to the max, which would amuse him no end.
“No problem.” He fiddled with his phone. “There’s a storm coming. We’re going to get some snow.”
“A lot of snow?” She’d have to factor in more time for guests to arrive if that was the case. Snow slowed things down, wreaked havoc on tight schedules.
“‘A significant amount,’ according to Accuweather.”
She’d need to wear boots. Grace hobbled back to her room, grabbed her bag, iPad and phone, put her suede boot on her left foot and wrapped the soft azure scarf from her Secret Santa around her neck. She’d packed everything, but Nico would have to put her clothes and suitcase into the car. She looked around the room to make sure she hadn’t left anything behind. She wondered if Al would miss her.
She wondered if Nico would.
“I’ll take those now,” Nico said, stepping into the room. “Unless I can talk you into staying longer.”
“I have tomorrow and the next day off,” she said. “I’ll stay home and rest. And then I think I’ll be as good as new.”
“All right. But Al is going to be devastated when he has to sleep on the floor tonight.”
He took her things and left, the dog following him down the hall and outside. They returned quickly, Al shaking a dusting of snow off his fur and moving immediately to his bed by the fireplace.
“He’ll sleep until Brian comes to take him to my parents’,” Nico said, chuckling. He helped Grace with her coat. “He knows it’s going to snow and he really hates this kind of weather. Why are you smiling?”
“I love weddings. I love big days like this when all of the planning and work pays off and everything is beautiful. And then something goes wrong but it doesn’t matter because I can fix it.” She grinned at him. “I live to organize.”
“Wow.” He took a step back. “The adrenaline’s pumping already?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know exactly what I’m talking about,” she said. “You love parties. Everyone knows that. You sing while you cook.”
Nico launched into a rendition of “Winter Wonderland” and ushered Grace out the door and into the cold.
