Page 85 of Saving Grace

She rolls over and bites my earlobe. I grab her with one arm and hug her to my chest. She squeals but nuzzles my neck. A moment later, resting her palm over my heart, she traces the angle of my jaw.

“Sleep, gorgeous, it’s past midnight. We need rest.”

A gentle kiss presses to my lips. “Goodnight, Mackinlay.”

I wait and watch as she falls asleep. Her breathing steadies to a soft and slow rate. Shallow, almost. Her face slackens a little. Her fingers curl against my chest. I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, letting the pad of my fingertip glide over her jaw.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, my girl.”

Eyelids heavy, I fold her in closer. My chin resting on the crown of her head, my heart wraps around hers.

The overwhelming need to keep this girl safe and loved sends a burn behind my eyes.

Who woulda knew a man could need a woman this much.

So damn much.

Chapter Twenty-Two

GRACE

Two weeks after my birthday party, I’m standing outside the Lewistown Arts Center. Despite the printout of my resume Ruby helped me write up, I’m nervous as hell. She’s good at this stuff and makes everything sound so easy. I wish I had her confidence. Instead, I cling to my portfolio with one hand, my bag with the other as I lock up Blue and cross the sidewalk to the large building in front of me.

I have no intention of leaving this small town now that I have finally found somewhere safe and stable. But I refuse to be deadweight. Hence, the job hunting. And when an opening for the arts program teacher came up, I knew I’d be kicking myself if I didn’t apply.

Getting to spend my days putting my half of a Fine Arts degree to use is a win in my opinion. But I never finished it, and that makes me nervous. The first question they’re going to ask is why. It’s for the stupidest reason under the sun. My parents were right about that part, at least. I just never thought that it would be all it took for them to drop me from their lives.

I push on the glass door and walk into the spacious front showroom. The woman sitting at the small counter stands with a smile. “Can I help you?”

“Um, hi. I’m Grace Weston. I’m here for an interview about the arts teaching position?”

Did that sound like a question? Ugh, I can even fake an ounce of Ruby’s confidence. Heat flushes my neck, and I grip my portfolio to my chest like a complete idiot. She moves out from behind the desk and gestures for me to follow.

We walk through the showroom, its walls covered in art of all types. My gaze snags on an oil painting of a landscape. I stall my pace, taking in the fine detail of the green hills, the thin, winding stream that flows between craggy rocks and tall piney trees. It’s mesmerizing...

Maybe I could paint the mountains one day? Camp out under the night sky, and when the sun finally cracks over the horizon the next morning, I would be set up. Easel. Brushes. Blues and whites. Browns and gold?—

“Miss Weston?” The small brunette lady’s eyes volley between me and the landscape painting. “I can’t blame you for your fascination, it’s a stunning piece. A local artist, to boot!”

“Are you serious?” I ask, face lit up.

“Oh yes, she doesn’t paint much anymore. Once she was a bit of a local legend. I’ll introduce you the next time she comes in.”

Assuming I get the job, I guess she means.

“That would be amazing. Thank you.”

She continues to the back of the room and pushes through the door labeledstaff only. Down a short hall, we arrive at a door on the left. “Well, this is you.” She knocks before pushing the door open. “Your interview is here, Don.”

“Come in, come in,” the voice of an older man says.

The woman steps aside, and I step into the small office. An elderly man stands at his desk, hand offered over the desk in a welcome. I take it and shake it firmly, hoping I appear more confident than the complete mess I feel right now.

“Don Anderson. You must be Grace?” He smiles and drops into his chair before waving at the one on my side of the desk.

“Yes, thank you for seeing me.”

“Of course. We were hoping to find someone to fill the arts program teacher last month. With all the talent in this old town retired, we had no luck. What have you brought with you there?”

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