Page 48 of Good Girls Don't Kiss and Tell

“You haven’t said anything.”

“We’ll talk about this in the car.”

Well, that’s definitely a bad sign.

* * *

Gracie barely resisted slamming out of the house three hours later. Her mother had hardly said a word the whole way home, and when Gracie had finally lost patience, her mother had gone off.

“I thought that you would be grown-up when you hit thirty and finally start looking for a mature relationship!”

Gracie climbed into her car and screamed, banging her fists on the steering wheel. She’d tried to be calm and reasonable, but of course, she couldn’t hold on to her temper for long.

“What the hell is wrong with Eric? He runs a successful business, is stable, and owns his own home.”

And then the real fun had started. Bombarded with question after question, she’d just sat there, stewing as they came.“Is this what you really want for your life? To be tied to not just one but two small businesses? Riding on the back of his motorcycle like Connie does with Buck?”

They became more and more insulting as the drive wore on. Her dad tried to intervene a few times, but her mother cut him off.

Finally, Gracie had exploded.“I get it! I am a big fucking disappointment to you! You wanted more from me, and I just keep screwing up. But you know what? I’m happy! I am a happy freaking person, so if you can’t be happy for me, then maybe you should stay elsewhere!”

They’d arrived at the house, and her parents had disappeared into the bedroom, where she’d heard them arguing. It reminded her of when she was a kid and they would fight; only now she was an adult with a set of keys and cakes to make.

She’d told them she had to run an errand and was going to grab dinner on her way back. Her dad had come out and given her a hug.

“I’ll talk to her, kiddo.”

Gracie started her SUV and drove out onto the road, heading toward The Local Bean. What she really needed was something to help relax her. And since sex was out of the question, she would have to settle for baking.

* * *

Eric drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he headed down Main Street. It was just after five in the evening, and the empty street looked slightly eerie in the glow of the setting sun.

As he passed The Local Bean, he saw that Gracie’s car was still in the parking lot. He hadn’t heard from her since she’d left for Boise to pick up her parents this morning. Why would she be at work, especially after hours?

He pulled into the dimly lit lot and drove around the back alley. He reached for his cell phone and called Grant.

“What’s up, bro?” The sound of clanking bottles sounded in the back ground.

“Hey, dude, I’m gonna be a little late. Can you guys cover it?” Eric glanced around. and not a soul was moving outside.

“How long you gonna be?” Grant sounded more curious than anything, probably because Eric was never late.

“I don’t know. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.” He hung up without saying anything else and could almost hear his brother muttering,“Dick.” He got out of his car and went to the back of the coffee shop and banged on the door. No one answered.

“Gracie? Gracie Lou?” Eric yelled.

Still nothing.

He reached for the metal knob and gave it a twist, surprised to find it unlocked. He opened it and stepped inside, heading down the hallway that soon spilled into the kitchen area.

Gracie was shaking her butt and dancing around the room, singing an off-key version of a Miranda Lambert song. He grinned as he watched her slide two cakes into the oven, closing it with a bump of her hip.

Her iPod must have switched over to Limp Bizkit’s “Faith,” because she started singing it at the top of her lungs.

Eric’s smile dimmed a bit and his mouth dried up as she rolled her hips slowly in a circle, slapping her hands on her thighs.

When she caught sight of him, she jumped straight up in the air. She had one hand on her chest, while the other pulled her earbuds out.

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