Page 6 of Good Girls Don't Kiss and Tell

Gracie looked around Eric and Charlie to find Travis still on the couch, looking unconcerned for his son’s safety.

“Don’t mess with his face! We got family pictures later,” Gemma joked.

“Mom!” Eric’s other hand found Charlie’s ribs, and, despite the kid’s advanced age, Gracie knew how ticklish Charlie was.

He screamed and squealed desperately crying between breathless laughter, “Aunt Gracie! Help!”

The fun was contagious, and Gracie shrugged out of her jean jacket. “All right, that’s it. You unhand my godson, or I’m going to pluck all the hairs from your chinny chin chin.”

Eric’s dark eyes twinkled at her. “Bring it on, Blondie—ow!”

Gracie had grasped his beard in her hand and gave it a gentle tug. He quickly released Charlie, but before Gracie could escape, she found herself caught in Eric’s steely arms, pressed against his tall, hard body.

Her fingers fell away from his beard and rested against his chest. The air around them turned up to a hundred and three, and despite the heat, Gracie shivered.

“Caught you. Now you’re going to pay.”

* * *

Eric was breathing hard, aware of Gracie’s small, round breasts against the front of his body. Despite the fifteen inches that separated her five foot two to his six foot five, it seemed as though their mouths were much closer.

Eric realized he was bending over, about ready to lay one on Gracie in a room full of people, just as Charlie decided to launch himself onto his back. Charlie wrapped his arms and legs around Eric like a spider monkey and yelled in his ear, “Run, Aunt Gracie! I got him!”

Gracie slipped slowly from his arms, the moment obliterated by a cock-blocking twelve-year-old.

Eric might beat the kid after all.

But I thought you were done with her?

Eric wrestled with Charlie for a minute, and by the time he had the upper hand, Gracie had disappeared from the house.

“Geez, kid, don’t you know I’m too old to play with you? I think you strained my back.” Eric hunched over, pretending to be in extreme pain and the boy actually appeared contrite.

“Sorry, but nobody messes with Aunt Gracie.”

Eric knew that Charlie loved Gracie. He remembered when Gemma had given birth to Charlie, a nineteen-year-old kid herself and scared to death. Gracie had been there for everything and defended her best friend like a rabid raccoon. It was one of her most admirable qualities; her deep, abiding loyalty to those she loved.

And I’m not one of those shiny special people, so I need to just get over it and get out of here.

Alarmed cries echoed through the living room, and Eric turned his head just in time to watch Gemma crumple to the floor.

Chaos ensued as Travis pushed his way across the room to his wife. “Gem. Gem, baby!”

Gemma’s mother and sister cried out and crowded next to Travis on the ground, kneeling beside Gemma.

Eric pulled out his cell phone just as Travis hollered, “Someone call 911.”

Charlie saw his mom, started running, shoving into people. Mike caught him and held him against his chest. Eric had no idea what Charlie’s godfather said to him, but the boy stopped trying to pull away and sobbed hard.

The operator came on the line, and Eric calmly relayed what he knew, realizing his voice was shaking.

“Just stay calm, sir. Is she breathing?”

“Travis, is she breathing?” Eric called.

“Yes! Yes, she’s just out cold.”

“Yeah, she’s breathing, but she’s not waking up.”

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