Full of Grace

  FULL OF GRACE

  MISTY PROVENCHER

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2013 by Misty Provencher

  Cover & Interior Design by Misty Provencher

  Publication Date: April, 2013

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

  Connect with the author online at: http://mistypro.blogspot.com/

  or on Facebook and Twitter: @mistyprovencher

  DEDICATION

  For Kelly,

  who became so smitten with Landon in one read that I wrote the rest of the book for her. Thank you for being my muse, my Kel.

  Oh, and just to clarify, this story is for Kelly (and not for Jimmy). BWA HAHA

  This book might never have been written if Dani Morales hadn’t fallen for Landon and insisted I give her a story about him. I do believe you were his first fan, Dani, and he raises a glass (and all ten bananas) in gratitude.

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE DJ ANNOUNCES US and Sher giggles the moment I put my hand on her back. From the second Hale introduced us, I knew I wanted to know a whole lot more about Hale’s best friend. Sher’s got this long blond hair that I want to hold in my fists and her giggling makes me feel like I swallowed a fish tank full of champagne bubbles. Right on the heels of the whole Psycho Amy debacle, I’m totally down for a diversion and Sher seems like the perfect girl for that. Her whole face lights up as we begin to dance. She could illuminate the candlelit dance floor all on her own.

  “It could be that I’m already a few bananas to the wind, but damn...” I tell her. What almost popped out of my pie hole is that I want to kiss her. But we’re swaying on the dance floor to Clapton’s Wonderful Tonight, Hale’s pick for the wedding party song, and I don’t want to mess anything up. Sher smiles up at me and instead of asking me to finish my thought, she says, “A few bananas?”

  I laugh.

  “Drunk,” I clarify. “You’re a few bananas when you’re feeling good.”

  She giggles. “How come your rating system is banana-based?”

  “Easy. When someone holds up their fingers to see if you can count them—if they look like bananas and all you can think of is how hungry you are, you know you’re too drunk.”

  “But a few bananas is okay?”

  “Anything under seven bananas is preferable.”

  “We’ll have to keep you under seven then,” she giggles. Then she says something about how great the wedding is going, and I tip my head down closer to her lips, as if I can’t hear her. Actually, I just want another whiff of her. She smells like girl sweat, which is almost always the most incredible perfume stew ever invented. It’s the warm mix of body lotion, layered with perfume and all the stuff girls put in their hair, their make-up, and even their deodorant. Sher doesn’t let me down. Breathing her in makes me want to push her against a wall and hike her legs up around my hips.

  I have to work to keep my mind where it should be, on the dance floor, in front of a polite audience of innocent wedding-goers. But it doesn’t help any that Sher bride’s maid dress keeps dipping a little lower on her chest than it should and that when her giggle mixes with the music, it’s like a siren song to what keeps stirring just beneath my zipper.

  “This is great, isn’t it?” she repeats.

  “Yeah, it’s great,” I murmur and she giggles. My hand is on the small of her back and her hand is soft and tiny in my palm. I don’t pull her any closer, only because I don’t want her to feel what she’s doing to me. At least not in front all of the Maree’s wedding guests, who are largely business clients too. I’m sure it would be the frosting on the wedding cake, if Oscar returned to his office after the honeymoon to messages like, It was a lovely wedding, really, Oscar. Does your best man always walk around with that enormous boner?

  Oscar and Hale glide by us, in their own world. Sher sighs, her little ribs shifting beneath my grasp.

  “Isn’t Hale gorgeous?” she giggles.

  “Absolutely,” I say. We swing to one side and she grazes me. I have to clamp my lips shut, so I don’t groan. I don’t know why this little girl is having such a big impact on me, but she totally is.

  “Hale said you were dating Amy?” she asks. Amy. Considering that she just tried crash my buddy’s wedding by making a complete spectacle of herself, I’m sure all the guests know her name. I was hoping that none of them knew I had dated her briefly, only a few days ago. I wonder how many know what happened and how it ended. The way Sher’s asking, it seems totally innocent, and I don’t know if Hale told her the whole sordid tale or not. I was hoping the whole affair would be immediately forgotten, but at lease I can give Sher the answer that I think she wants to hear.

  “I didn’t date her long enough to see the psycho coming.”

  “So she’s not your girlfriend anymore?”

  I puff a laugh. “Hell no. I don’t have a girlfriend right now. Unless you’re available.”

  She breaks into a fit of giggles and people look up from their tables at the edge of the dance floor. Sher wiggles in my arms. The giggle dies.

  “Problem?” I ask.

  “I just hate that everyone is staring at us,” she says. It seems pretty ironic, considering that chainsaw giggle she’s got.

  “Forget them,” I say. “Just look at me.” I grin as she does and she giggles again. I laugh. “Do you do anything without giggling?”

  She erupts in another fit. I don’t know how she has the breath for it.

  “Guess not.” I laugh again. We swirl around the dance floor as the DJ offers the guests to join us. As more and more couples crowd the floor, we’re swallowed up in the swaying beat. I squeeze Sher dangerously close. “See? No one even knows we’re here now.”

  Sher peeks around at the crush of dancers. The ambience that Mr. Maree’s wedding planner has created is pure, girly romance. Besides the faux candle light, the place smells like warm vanilla, the table tops and chairs flow with white linens and wherever I look, there’s a tiny sparkle waiting to be seen. It’s like one big sexy bedroom, except there are about 500 people stuffed into it, all desperately trying to ignore each other so they can rub up against their dance partner’s fancy wedding attire in peace. At least, that’s they way I think of it.

  When Sher looks back at me, she cuts her giggle short to say, “You’re right. It’s like we’re all alone out here.”

  Something about the way her chin tips toward mine, sends me in for the kill. I tighten my arm around her waist, pulling her close enough that she’ll feel exactly what I’m thinking of her. Her eyes bulge a little the second we make contact and then she lets out a giggle that draws a few annoyed glances. Although it ruins the moment and I don’t kiss her, it still works for me. She turns candy-apple red and plops her forehead against my chest, to hide. I laugh and hold her close and when she finally does look up again, I make the play, holding her chin steady with soft fingertips, so she doesn’t just giggle and duck away.

  The song ends and the guests clap as my lips meet hers. I only get a quick peck before she pulls away.

  “It’s like they’re clapping for us,” she giggles and I just grin. Moment over. This girl’s going to take some work.

  “How about we get a drink?”

  The giggle drowns a few beats of the next song. “I’m only eighteen!”

  “You can have root beer,” I say, dragging her off the dance floor. I throw my arm over her shoulders as we step up to the edge of the packed bar. Hale’s dad turns so quickly, he just about dumps his drink all over Sher.

  “Hi Mr. Simmons,” Sher giggles, reaching out to steady her friend’s old man.
<
br />   “Oh! Hey Sher!” He smiles at her, glassy eyed, and swoops down to peck her cheek. Then, as he tries to scan the tightly packed crowd around the bar, he asks, “So, is your lovely mother here tonight?”

  “No, she couldn’t make it.” Sher clasps her lips and shakes her head as if she’s really sorry about her mother’s absence. “Since I was in the wedding, she didn’t have a babysitter. It’s too expensive, so she had to stay home with the kids.”

  “Oh yeah. I forgot that. She’s got lots of kids already, doesn’t she?”

  “She sure does,” Sher says and then turns back to me, rolling her eyes, as Hale’s dad trips away through the throng.

  I order myself a shot of whiskey, but the bartender notices my arm slung over Sher’s shoulders and knocks two shot glasses across the bar to us. I try to get his attention again, to order Sher something else, but the guy has his hands full. Sher tugs on my sleeve.

  “I want to taste it,” she says in my ear. She giggles, giving me an up-and-down look that makes me twitch against my zipper. “Let me try it.”

  Before I can argue, she grabs the extra drink off the bar and slams it back. She thunks the empty glass down, shaking her head wildly and shrieking, “WHEW!”

  “Easy does it!” I’m half-shouting, half-laughing at her. “You need to be careful with this stuff!”

  But that little girl hangs over the edge of the bar and hollers at the bartender, “Hey, you! Hit me again!”

  I flag the bartender, shaking my head and slicing my hand back and forth in front of my neck, to let him know he needs to cut her off. But the guy just puts up two fingers to Sher, she nods, and he slides two more shooters down the counter at us.

  “No, no! Just a couple cokes!” I shout, but he’s already moved down the bar to take care of another guest.

  Sher slams her shot, then grabs mine and downs it too. Same as before, she pounds the shot glass back down on the bar. She throws her head back with a squint-eyed hoot that dances over the top of the DJ’s music.

  “What are you up to over here?” Oscar’s voice is at my elbow and I turn to see Hale standing beside him. I point at Sher.

  “Your girl’s auditioning for Bridesmaids Gone Wild over here!” I shout to Hale. She laughs and Sher grabs her arm, pulling her friend close. Sher whispers in Hale’s ear and Hale giggles as her eyes sweep over me.

  “Sounds like a plan, but lay off the booze,” Hale tells her friend. “I want you to remember my wedding so we can talk about it years from now!”

  “Roger that,” Sher says with a salute.

  “I’ll keep an eye on her,” I tell Hale, slipping my arm around Sher’s shoulders. Sher bursts into giggles and I rub her back with my thumb, trying to stopper up her nerves, but I’m pleasantly surprised when Sher melts in closer to me.

  “You sure you’ll be the one keeping an eye?” Oscar chuckles in my ear. The DJ announces that the cake will be cut in a couple minutes and Oscar grabs Hale’s hand. “Sounds like they need us, Mrs. Maree.”

  Sher grabs my hand and follows our two best friends, pulling me along behind her. I only avert my eyes from her rear once before we reach the cake table. I’m handed champagne on the way there, more while we’re waiting for the photographer to take all the angles, and a third glass as Oscar and Hale sink the knife. My buzz is going good, so I don’t want to go over the edge with it. I cheer, sloshing my third glass of champagne on Sher and she, of course, giggles. When Hale creams Oscar with icing, people start tinging their champagne glasses for the bride and groom to kiss again, and I’m having a harder and harder time looking away from Sher’s lips.

  “You want to dance again?” she asks.

  “Sure,” I say. But the second we’re on the dance floor, she moves in so close that my whole body goes on overload. I feel the rhythm of her body moving beneath my hands and I can’t get it out of my head how she’d feel moving beneath me. I dip my face into her hair and take a deep breath. She’s humming the song. It’s just a faint little hum, caught deep in her throat, where I want to be. It sends me right over the edge. I’ve got to kiss this girl.

  And touch her.

  And taste her.

  I grab her hand and drag her giggling ass off the dance floor. I weave through the tables with her fingertips in mine, waving, instead of stopping to talk to all the guests who know me. Sher’s keeping pace with me, squeezing my hand and leaving a trail of giggles behind us. My only goal is to get her someplace a little more private, so I can kiss her, long and hard and not have to worry about stopping.

  We leave the tent, grabbing champagne on the way, and Sher keeps on giggling as I drag her along the cobbled walkway. Good thing I know the grounds. First we pass clusters of guests who are smoking, then some who are just standing around talking, and finally, we pass the stragglers, who are trying to get away from the crowd to do exactly what I want to do with Sher.

  I turn on the bricks, toward the guest house. The entire time, Sher’s vocal cords are on a giggly rampage. I wish I was kissing her already, to either feel that vibration on my tongue, or to just shut it down all together.

  I figure the front steps of the guest house will be the perfect place—a kiss in the moonlight—but when we get there, there’s already a couple on the front steps. One of the Maree’s security guards is there too, shooing the couple away. The guard closes the gate leading to the front porch as we approach.

  “Good evening, Mr. Grace,” he says, resting one hand on the two-way radio attached to his belt.

  “Hey Saul,” I say, holding out my hand with my empty champagne glass still in it. I’m not letting go of Sher. The guard just takes the stem of the glass and then shakes my hand. “Miss...uh, Sher and I are going to sit out back, in the garden, if that’s alright.”

  “We’re going hobbit hunting,” Sher giggles, but it doesn’t derail Saul in the least. He nods, stepping out of our way.

  “Certainly, Mr. Grace, Miss Wright. Mr. Maree has already informed us that both of you have full clearance on the grounds.”

  “Thanks,” I say, opening the gate. Sher hands Saul her glass to, before gliding past the guard. Saul accepts it with an accommodating smile. Sher doesn’t say anything, at least, I don’t think she does. It could be obscured beneath the crazy avalanche of giggles she’s letting loose.

  We climb the steps to the front door, but I take a right at the top, following the porch around the side of the house, until we reach the back porch. The second we turn the corner to the back side of the house, I just can’t wait anymore. I round on her, pushing her flat against the siding so I can bury my tongue in her mouth.

  Her muscles tense for a split second, but then her hands are in my hair, pulling me to her. I laugh against her mouth. Her kiss is all over the place, and all over my face, but it’s not like I care. Her tight little body is squirming around in my hands and it feels like Christmas.

  “You taste like booze,” she mumbles against my cheek.

  “You taste like...great,” I tell her and she giggles. That damn giggle.

  I brush my fingertips from her earlobe to her chest and she shudders, with a giggle of course, but we’re both startled by the sound of footsteps traveling up the front steps. Saul’s voice follows almost instantly. He apologizes, but tells the guests that the porch and house are off limits. We hear the grumbled acceptance, the footsteps moving back down the steps, and then I’m sure we are alone again.

  I go back to kissing Sher. We’re working up to a nice, breathless pace, but just as I let my touch drift down to her chest again, there are more footsteps and Saul’s voice again, apologizing and getting rid of some more guests.

  I know the Maree’s lawn is decked out to look like the most romantic place on earth, but the way people keep popping up, it’s like the bar’s pushing Viagra Shooters. If Sher and I want privacy, Grand Central Porch wasn’t the place to come.

  “Let’s go inside,” I murmur to her.

  “I’m sure Ocker’s got it all locked up,” she giggle
s. I try to think of the giggling as something as involuntary as hiccups. I take her hand and retrieve the backdoor key from where it always is, on the ledge over the back window. I pop open the door and Sher giggles some more. I pull her inside and then drag her to the bedroom with a trail of her god-forsaken-giggles spraying behind me like buckshot. The moment I get her into the bedroom, my mouth is on hers. With my hand behind her head, I don’t let up on the kiss as I lay her back on the guest house bed.

  I pull off my jacket and unbuckle my belt. She giggles wildly, throwing an arm over her eyes as I strip off my pants. I’m so damn hard I could cut a mirror into a glass chandelier with my junk.

  I lean over the top of Sher, taking her hand from her face and placing it on my neck. Her fingers weave into my hair as I simultaneously kiss her and slide up her dress. My brain is spinning in an awesome free-fall from the alcohol and Sher’s mouth and the way her hips wriggle a little beneath mine.

  Oh, hell yes. A soft bed beats a wood porch any day of the week.

  But even with our tongues twisting, she still manages a giggle. I pull away from her with a smile.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing,” she says, suddenly straight-faced. Ahhh. That one was a pressure-valve giggle, letting off the steam of excitement.

  “Okay,” I chuckle, moving back in for her lips. She grabs my hair and pulls me to her, but her kiss changes. It’s a little intense, more hurried, and a whole lot sloppier. She crams her tongue into my cheek and when the probe is done, she clamps down on my lip. A few more seconds, and her kiss takes on the wild desperation of a frightened wolverine. I pull away from her again.

  “You alright?” I ask. She nods, but she’s gone so stiff, she’s almost planking. “You sure? We don’t have to...”

  “No, I want to,” she says, shaking out her hands at the wrists. “I want to.”

  She reaches for me again and this time, when I kiss her, her mouth is soft. She places her hands on my shoulders, like she’s holding me to her. As if I’d want to get away.