Page 30 of Moonlit Colorado

“Sounds like Ms. O’Neal can do no wrong,” I said.

“I say, we all need to do a little wrong sometimes. Life is a bore otherwise.” Dixie tapped my bicep. “I suspect you’re a man who knows what I mean. See if you can talk Grace into joining in.”

“Oh believe me, I’ve tried.”

Grace’s eyes bugged behind Dixie’s back, and she made a slashing motion over her throat. But Dixie assumed I was kidding. She was laughing along with me. “He’s a wily one, Grace.”

Maisie looked up from her coloring. “Dixie, what’s wily mean?”

“It means smart enough to be dangerous, and dangerous enough to be a heck of a lot of fun.”

Grace muttered something like, “Exactly my problem.”

“Am I wily?” Maisie asked.

“You certainly are. Ready for some snacks? There’s quite the spread in the kitchen.” Dixie coaxed Maisie toward the promise of food, and I hung back a moment with Grace, pausing to set her bag of craft supplies on the coffee table.

“How’s your week been?” I asked. “Haven’t seen you since the festival.”

Grace spun to face me. “Don’t act so innocent,” she whispered. “You have to quit dropping hints about…the other night. Dixie thinks it’s a joke, but someone else will catch on. I think Emma already suspects something.”

I stuck my hands in my pockets. “I’m not going to tell anyone. Besides, nothing happened, right? There’s nothing to tell.”

“Exactly. Nothing.”

“You don’t need to worry about me causing problems for you. I’m harmless.”

“I don’t believethatfor a second.”

A grin tugged at my lips. “Are you hungry?” I gestured toward the kitchen.

She crossed her arms over her stomach. “Kind of.”

“Then you should eat.”

Grace sighed. “Wait. I wanted to say thanks for being so great with Maisie. Looks like you were coloring with her just now. And the snow globe was really sweet.”

“She’s a wonderful kid.”

“She really is.”

We found the others gathered around the kitchen table, where they’d set out the appetizers. Emma gave Grace a quick hug, and Ashford handed her a plate. “Wondered when you’d get here, Gracie,” Ashford said. “Dane brought like ten kinds of cheese. You’re going to be in heaven. Look at all this.”

“Oh, do you like cheese, Grace?” I asked, keeping my tone neutral.

Her jaw dropped for a moment before she shut it, staring at the platter.

I’d ordered the restaurant’s fanciest cheeseboard, then made a few requests of my own. There were local and imported cheeses, nuts, stewed and dried fruits, house-made crackers, thinly sliced prosciutto. Plus three different kinds of olivesandthe tiny pickles she’d mentioned the other night at the party.

“This looks amazing,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.”

When she glanced at me, I gave her my most boyish grin.

I didn’t intend to pursue Ashford’s sister. But I still wanted Grace to like me, and I had no shame about trying to make that happen.

NINE

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