Falling Grace. Melissa Shirley

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      “Wow. That must be some sale.”

      She gave Rory a wink. “Well, little missy over there took care of a tax problem for me. Any friend of Rory’s is a friend of mine. And in my store, she gets the friend and family discount.”

      “I guess we’ll see you tonight at the club?” Rory pulled the dress bag and shoebox off the counter, then shoved them against my chest. I was thankful she didn’t give Margie time to change her mind about the price.

      “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it. It’s not often I can get Hank into a tuxedo. ” She leaned closer to Rory. “Hank and I’ve been married so long I think he forgot a woman needs a night on the town every once in a while. I’m tired of seeing that man in the recliner in his underwear. You are a lucky girl to have a man like Jack. I would pay big money to have him sitting in my living room in nothing but his boxers.” Rory chuckled and Margie jumped to a new subject. “Did you get that Marshall girl to sit for you tonight?”

      All this marriage and family talk made my ovaries shrink back in shame, and I tuned them out as they discussed babysitters, then Rory’s brother and his wife’s pregnancy glow. I hadn’t been in a serious relationship in years and didn’t feel like I’d missed a thing. As I stood there half ignoring their conversation, it became clear to me the only thing that would ever make my skin glow was a good facial scrub.

      * * * *

      Rory whipped my hair into shape while her brother, Tyler, paced and complained in her living room and his wife, Krista, applied my makeup. As the clock chimed seven, we walked into a ballroom big enough to house the town square.

      A beaded chandelier the size of my bed hung overhead and refracted shards of muted light around the room. Candles provided dancing shadows on the walls and red and white rose petals lined the centers of the round tables circling the room’s perimeter. Arched windows emphasized by columns stretched up the walls and a domed glass ceiling let the moonlight shine through.

      “Wow. This is beautiful.”

      “Jack and I got married here.” She beamed a smile up at her husband. “Best night of my life.”

      He kissed her lightly, and Tyler elbowed her as a woman dressed in gold with Rory’s hair and Tyler’s eyes made her way across the room. “Straighten up. Mom’s coming.”

      He adjusted his tie as I watched her glide her way across the floor. When she finally stood on the outer fringe of our little circle, she reached out to pat Tyler’s lapel, smoothing it before he leaned in to lay a kiss on her cheek. “Don’t you look handsome.”

      She hugged Krista, put a hand on her belly, welcomed me with an air kiss, then moved to speak with Rory. “Something’s wrong. No one’s dancing. I knew the orchestra was a bad idea. I should have gone with a band.”

      Rory stepped from under Jack’s arm and took her mother by the shoulders. “Just breathe, Mom. It’s early. People are mingling. They’ll dance in a little while.”

      “Right.” Her mother lifted her head, pushed out her chest, and shook her mass of sunny blond curls. “It’s early.” She looked out at the crowd, some seated, some standing, not a frown in the bunch. “Should I have gotten a band? I should have.”

      “Mom.” At Rory’s sharp tone, Mrs. Jordyn jerked her gaze back to meet her daughter’s glare. “It’s early.”

      I took the time during their exchange to study the room. Pricey gowns, designer shoes, and tuxedos fitted by the gods themselves, decorated every single body in viewing distance. It took me a few minutes, but when I found him, the breath sucked from my body--Blane in a tuxedo. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks to God for creating the man who had the sheer and utter brilliance, and foresight, to design and market male formalwear. “Mrs. Jordyn, I have a sudden urge to dance. I think I can help you out.”

      “Grace, I wouldn’t be able to thank you enough.” She squinted at Rory as she spoke to me.

      I strutted across the floor to the man whose gaze locked on to mine with my first step toward him. “I guess you’re over being mad at me?” He stepped away from his friends. With the smallest whiff of his cologne, the slightest touch of his hand, he enchanted me, and I would have followed him anywhere he wanted.

      I pulled a crystal flute off a passing waiter’s tray and took a big gulp. Much better. “I decided you’re allowed to have your opinion.” I tilted my head and smiled. “Even if it’s short-sighted and wrong.”

      He chuckled and the melody of it sent the first flutters of a thrill racing along my flesh. “I think I like you, Grace Wade.”

      “Enough to dance with me?” I set the glass down and held out a hand, palm up.

      “No one else is dancing.”

      “In a minute, you won’t care.”

      With a grin capable of melting cold steel, he clasped our fingers together and walked beside me to the center of the polished dance floor. He lifted his hand, sending me on a stroll around him, then wrapped one arm around my waist. We moved as one in an inappropriate waltz as he nudged my body a bit too close to his. Soon other couples floated out around us, and Blane drew me closer. The spicy scent of his cologne tickled my nose and the hand I’d previously rested on his shoulder crept up to trace a line down his neck. I smiled as his eyes closed at the touch. “Your accent is very different from your brother’s.”

      He nodded, and for a moment, I believed it a mystery I’d have to solve on my own.

      “Our parents split when we were born. Dad was from London and he wanted to go home. Momma couldn’t leave her family behind. Jamie grew up with Dad in England and Mom kept me.”

      “They separated you guys?” Growing up without anyone of my sisters in my life would have changed me in ways I didn’t want to contemplate. I pushed those thoughts away and smiled as I smoothed a silky curl at the back of his neck. “And nothing short of a chick flick, you all ended up back here?”

      He nodded.

      “Your dad gave up London for her.” Some fairy tales had happy endings. I had hope.

      “I spent a whole summer with Jamie and Dad in London. When it was time for me to leave, I didn’t want to come home and be cheated out of all the things fifteen-year-old boys did with their dad and brother. I wanted to hang out and do more guy stuff, but I wanted to be with my mom too. Then, the good Lord stepped in and gave me appendicitis the day before my flight. She rushed over there. They fell in love over my hospital bed, and here we are.”

      His hand pressed more firmly into the small of my back, caressed the skin bared by the drop waist of the dress, and my heart fluttered. “Their own happily ever after?”

      “It took a little while to work out the logistics of Jamie leaving all his friends and Dad getting a job over here, but they figured it out. By Christmas, Jamie and I were sharing a room, and Dad had a job at the auto plant.” He brought our clasped hands up to his chest, fingers stroking soft and sure against mine. His heart thumped under the crisp white of his tuxedo shirt. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

      I nodded. “Seven sisters.” As I spoke, an unfamiliar pang of homesickness shot through my stomach. Homesick? Me? The little stab had to be something else.

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