Page 40 of Forever & Again
“I am afraid so.”
She exhaled through her nose in amusement, obviously unconvinced. “Keep your secrets. I will wear her down eventually.”
Oliver laughed, shaking his head as they continued along the path in companionable silence. If anyone could coax a secret from Grace, it would be Sarah.
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” she continued softly. “But if something ever does happen, promise me that you will not run from it.”
“I don’t plan to,” he said honestly. “Unless she chases me away.”
Chapter Eighteen
The makings of a grand summer picnic were spread across Somerton’s front lawn, the sunlight pooling over blankets and glistening off of champagne flutes. Matthew and Sarah had arranged the small gathering as a token of appreciation for the tenants who worked in the orchards.
The air was sweet with the scent of summer flowers, and the sound of children’s laughter rang through the trees.
Grace sat on the edge of a quilt, patiently guiding the hands of a young girl who had begged her to teach her needlepoint. Her own fingers moved over the fabric with practiced ease, but her attention kept drifting across the lawn towards Oliver.
She tried not to let her gaze linger, but it was impossible to ignore the easy way he laughed with the tenants, the golden shimmer of his hair in the sunlight, and the way he carried himself with that effortless confidence that both infuriated and entranced her.
It was the same gentle, easygoing presence he carried everywhere—from ballrooms to garden parties, and even now, tossing a ball for the children and laughing with a lightness that she still secretly envied.
Grace tried to look away as he caught her eye, but from the corner of her vision, she saw him jogging toward her with a faint flush on his cheeks and a slightly winded smile tugging at his lips.
“Do you approve of my athletic prowess, Lady Rockwell?”
Grace tried to ignore the flutter in her chest. She may have admitted her full feelings to herself, but she was not quite ready to confess to him the full effect he had on her. “I am not sure I would call tossing a leather ball impressive.”
Oliver laughed, not the least bit deterred by her jab. “Then allow me to prove myself in croquet.”
“I seem to recall you losing last time,” she said sweetly. She noticed the smile he tried to hide at her mention of their secret game in the garden. It was obvious he had let her win—most of the children here today were playing better than he had—but he had been so happy to celebrate her victory that she couldn’t bring herself to scold him for not giving her a true contest.
Looking back on every moment they spent together during the summer, Grace realized how truly blind she had been not to see how deeply they were becoming intertwined.
“I did not lose,” he said, dropping to the blanket beside her. “I was merely giving you a false confidence. When I defeat you today, it will be even more devastating.”
His proximity was unfair. The warmth of his arm nearly pressed up against hers, and the smell of soap and sunshine wrapped around him. She gave him a pointed look, arching a brow. “You are awfully confident for someone who tripped over his mallet.”
Oliver’s smile deepened, his eyes catching the sunlight in a way that made her breath hitch.
“I cannot blame the mallet,” he murmured, leaning in just enough for his breath to brush her ear. “My attention was fixed elsewhere.”
Heat crept up Grace’s neck, but she forced her tone to stay steady. “You forget yourself, sir,” she warned. “We have not yet officially called off our truce, and that was dangerously close to flirting.”
“I am aware,” he chuckled under his breath, leaning forward to meet her gaze. “And you need not worry—I am still fully operating under your terms.” He winked, sending Grace’s stomach into an unbearable flurry of delight and panic.
Her terms.No flirting without intention. How could she mistake that look, that tone, and those words, for anything other than intent? Every moment with Oliver seemed to teeter on a precipice—just one word away from shattering everything they’d so carefully hidden away.
He pushed himself from the ground, offering her a playful bow as he made his way back across the lawn.
Grace quickly scrambled to her feet, her pulse pushing her forward as he continued to walk away. By the time she caught up to him, her heart was pounding so fiercely she could barely remember what she had meant to say. “Why are you toying with me?” She called after him.
Oliver stopped. He turned to face her, his confident smile slipping away. “I am not toying with you,” his voice was soft and almost hesitant. “I swear to you, Grace.”
“Then what are you doing?” The tremor in her voice betrayed the feelings she told herself she should hide. “You say nothing,” Her throat tightened as her arms dropped helplessly by her side. “But you insinuate everything.”
Oliver dropped his eyes to the ground between them, his fingers fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve. She had never imagined him nervous, but when his eyes met hers again, the sparkle was gone and all that remained was uncertainty. “I cannot offer you something you are not ready to accept.”
Grace’s heart squeezed so hard the pain nearly stole her breath. Could he not see how far she’d come—how she thought of him every hour—and the space he filled in her heart was not simply a balm to soothe the emptiness that Benjamin left behind, but something wholly new and completely overwhelming.
