Good Night, Gracie. Kristin GabrielЧитать онлайн книгу.
don’t have time to be picky.”
Gracie looked at the two items circle in red ink, guilt welling up inside of her. She hadn’t given enough attention to their impending eviction, leaving all the work to Trina as she’d worked on the presentation to the historical society. That would change after this weekend. Then she’d make finding a new home for Between the Covers her first priority.
But right now all she could think about was Gilbert.
She wondered if he really had changed much physically since high school. Not that it mattered. He made her feel special and that was more important than a handsome face or a buff body. Still, a few doubts lingered in her seduction plan. What if the sparks simply weren’t there? A wild weekend of hot sex wasn’t worth ruining their friendship.
Was it?
The fact that she could even ponder such a question was proof that her long sex drought had taken its toll. Between running the bookstore and taking care of her sick aunt, Gracie hadn’t been able to find much time for a social life.
“Here,” Trina said, digging into her purse. “You’d better take these.”
Gracie looked up from the newspaper to see Trina pull out a handful of colorful condom packages. Paul made a strangled noise in his throat at the sight of them.
“What?” Trina challenged, looking up at him. “You think a gimp can’t get lucky?”
“You’re not a…I never said…” Paul sputtered.
“Thanks,” Gracie interjected, taking the condoms from her.
Why couldn’t Trina see that the guy was totally in love with her? Or maybe she did see and just chose to ignore it. Paul wasn’t exactly Mr. Exciting.
“Now go out and have fun,” Trina said, propelling her toward the door. “And don’t worry about the store. I can handle everything here.”
“I’ll help her,” Paul said, then added quickly, “not that she needs it.”
Trina laughed and Gracie was surprised by the pinprick of envy inside of her. She’d never had a man look at her the way Paul looked at Trina. The closest she’d come was in high school when Gilbert had asked her to the senior prom. She’d suggested they go out for pizza and bowling instead, fearing he’d only made the offer because she’d whined so much about not having a date. Now, ten years later, she was about to invite him to sleep with her.
She hoped it was an invitation he couldn’t refuse.
ZACH STOOD IN THE BALLROOM of the Claremont Hotel wondering how he ever thought he could pull this off. The class of 1995 milled around him, their excited chatter punctuated by occasional shouts of recognition and giddy laughter.
He’d skipped his own high school reunion last year, where he no doubt would have felt as alien as he did now. Those days were a blur to him, mixed with unhappy memories of his father’s abandonment when he was thirteen years old.
After he’d been made the man-of-the-house by default, Zach had given up sports and other school activities so he could go to work and help his mother keep their household afloat.
More than once, Zach had fallen asleep in class, exhausted from working double shifts at his job at the all-night delicatessen.
That was where he’d first considered a career in law enforcement, since it was a prime spot for the cruising patrolmen to take their breaks. He’d listened to their stories as he worked, enthralled by the excitement of it all. Compared to slicing salami and shredding lettuce, it had seemed like a dream job.
Now he knew that excitement came at a price. Like almost losing your partner. Or leaving a case unsolved. That still bothered him and he found himself scowling at the blond woman approaching him.
“Well, hey there,” she said with a slight Southern drawl, “you don’t look like you’re having a very good time. Maybe I can fix that.”
He pushed thoughts of the case out of his mind, forcing his face to relax into a smile. “I’m sure you can,” his gaze dropped to the name tag on her ample chest, “Sandra.”
She laughed. “You don’t remember me, do you? Nobody’s recognized me yet. I used to be a brunette back in high school. And a bit of a tomboy. Now, don’t tell me your name. Let me guess.”
He wondered how long it would take before she gave up, but he didn’t mind waiting. Gracie hadn’t shown up yet, so he had nothing better to do.
Sandra tilted her head to one side, looking him up and down. “You’re Gilbert Holloway, aren’t you?”
Zach blinked in surprise. He and Holloway were close to the same height and both had dark hair and eyes, but nobody would ever mistake them for twins. “How did you know?”
“Because I’m the official reunion greeter and the only two men who haven’t picked up their name tags yet are Gilbert Holloway and Mitch Putnam.” She laughed again. “But even with that Boston accent, I know you’re not Mitch.”
“Of course not,” he agreed, wondering how she made the distinction. But he didn’t want to blow his cover by asking. He was certain Gracie would realize he wasn’t Gilbert as soon as she saw him. He just hoped she’d give him a chance to explain before revealing him as a fraud to everyone in the room.
Zach realized now that he’d been crazy to come here. Gracie wanted to see Gilbert, not him. She didn’t even know him. Or realize that she’d been communicating with a complete stranger these past few months, telling him all her desires, spilling all her deepest secrets.
Making him fall in love with her.
Zach shook that unsettling thought from his head as soon as it appeared. He wasn’t in love with her, just intrigued, maybe even infatuated. But that’s as far as it went. That’s as far as he’d allow it to go.
Despite his second thoughts, he’d come too far to back out now. Once he met Gracie and satisfied his curiosity, he could put her behind him. It might not be easy, but he’d done it before. All he wanted now was this one weekend with her. One weekend to fulfill the fantasies he’d had about her since her very first e-mail had touched something inside his soul.
Sandra peeled back the adhesive on Gilbert’s name tag, then slapped it on his chest. “Can you believe how much everybody’s changed? I wouldn’t have recognized Stacie Winston if I’d passed her on the street and we started kindergarten together.”
“A lot can happen in ten years,” Zach replied, feeling more confident about pulling off this charade. Sandra didn’t hesitate in accepting him as Gilbert Holloway.
Of course, he’d picked up on a few of the guy’s mannerisms and speech patterns while acting as his bodyguard. Zach knew all Gilbert’s favorite foods and little idiosyncrasies. And he’d read his journal, as well as all the e-mails exchanged between Gilbert and Gracie for the past decade, which were saved in a special file on Holloway’s computer.
In some ways, he knew Gilbert better than he knew himself.
“I still can’t believe it’s been ten years since we graduated.” Sandra leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Did you know Andy Winkleman’s been married three times already? And Kendra Nebbles has four kids from four different men. I guess her parents shouldn’t have forbidden her from taking that sex education class.”
He knew all their names, having memorized them from the yearbook during his flight to Texas. Zach had treated this like any other undercover assignment, covering all his bases before he went into action. Only this assignment was personal and there was no set strategy—other than meeting Gracie.
He checked his watch, hoping he didn’t have to wait much longer. “Do you know if Gracie Dawson’s arrived yet?”
“Not yet.” Sandra gave him a sly smile. “So tell me, were you two really just friends back in high school or was there more going on?”
That