Too Good to Be True(73)

Imagined him turning to look at me, his expression incredulous, then disgusted, rolling his eyes and muttering something less than flattering about my emotional state. I sure as hell didn’t want that. Callahan O’ Shea was asking if I was done with Wyatt because he…yes, there was no denying it…he was interested. In me.

I bit my lip. “Um…Wyatt’s…he was better on paper than in real life,” I said, swallowing hard. Not exactly a lie. “So yeah. So we called it quits.”

“Good.” Then he did turn to look at me. His face was serious, his eyes unreadable in the dim light from the stars.

My heart slowed, and suddenly the smell of lilacs was dizzying. Cal’s lashes were so long, his eyes so lovely. And it was scary, too, looking at him like that, so close and available, so warm and solid.

Very slowly, he reached out to touch my cheek with the back of his fingers. Just a little caress, but I sucked in a sharp breath at the contact. He was going to kiss me. Oh, God. My heart clattered so hard it practically bruised my ribs. Cal smiled.

Then Margaret’s voice split the quiet air. “Grace? Grace, where are you? Nat’s on the phone!”

“Coming!” I called, abruptly lurching to my feet. At the realization that his mistress was on the roof, Angus exploded into yarps, breaking the quiet into shards of noise. “Sorry, Cal. I—I have to go.”

“Coward,” he said, but he was smiling.

I took another step closer to the ladder, then stopped. “Maybe I could come back up here again sometime,” I said.

“Maybe you could,” he agreed, sitting up in one quick, graceful move. “I hope you do.”

“Gotta run,” I breathed, then scuttled down the ladder as fast as I could. Cal’s low, ashy laugh followed me as I trotted into my own yard where Angus finally quieted. My heart thundered as if I’d run a mile.

“What were you doing out there?” Margaret hissed as I burst onto the patio. “Were you up there with Callahan?”

“Hi, Margaret,” Cal called from his roof.

“What were you guys doing up there?” she called back.

“Monkey sex,” he answered. “Wanna give it a try?”

“Don’t tempt me, Bird Man of Alcatraz,” she said, shoving the phone into my hand.

“Hello?” I panted.

“Hi, Grace. I’m sorry. Was I interrupting?” Nat’s voice was small.

“Oh, no. I was just…” I cleared my throat. “Just talking to Callahan next door. What’s up?”

“Well, I was wondering if you were free this Saturday,” she said. “Do you have anything at school? Or any battles?”

I went through the slider into the kitchen and glanced at my calendar. “Nope. All clear.”

“Think you’d like to go dress shopping with me?”

My head jerked back slightly. “Sure!” I said heartily. “What time?”

“Um, maybe around three?” Nat sounded so hesitant that I could tell something was wrong.

“Three would be great,” I answered.

“You sure?”

“Yes! Of course, Bumppo. Why do you sound so weird?”

“Margaret said maybe I should cut you a break and go without you.”

Good old Margs. My older sister was right—it would be awfully nice to skip out on this particular wedding event, but I had to go. “I want to come, Nat,” I said. Part of me did, at any rate. “I’ll see you at three.”

“Why do you baby her so much?” Margaret demanded the minute I hung up. Angus raced in, almost tripping her, but she ignored him. “Tell her to open her eyes and think of someone else for a change. She’s not lying in a hospital bed anymore, Grace.”

“I know that, Margaret dear. But for crying out loud, it’s her wedding dress. And I’m over Andrew. I don’t care if she’s marrying him, she’s our little sister and we should both be there.”

Margaret dropped into a kitchen chair and picked up Angus, who licked her chin with great affection. “Princess Natalie. God forbid she think of someone else for a change.”

“She’s not like that! God, Margs, why do you give her such a hard time?”

Margaret shrugged. “Maybe I think she needs a little hard time once in a while. She’s lived a charmed life, Grace. Adored, beautiful, smart. She gets everything.”

“Unlike your poor, orphaned, troll-like self?” I asked.

“Yes, I’m all soft edges and peachy glow.” She sighed. “You know what I’m talking about, Grace. Admit it. Nat has glided through life on a fluffy white cloud with a f**king rainbow over her head while bluebirds sang all around her. Me, I’ve stomped through life, and you…you’ve…” Her voice broke off.

“I’ve what?” I asked, bristling.

She didn’t answer for a second. “You’ve hit a few walls.”

“Andrew, you mean?”

“Well, sure. But remember when we first moved to Connecticut, and you were kind of lost?” Sure I remembered.

Back when I was dating Jack of Le Cirque. Margaret continued. “And that year you lived with Mom and Dad after college, when you waitressed for a year?”

“I was taking time off to figure out what I wanted to do,” I bit out. “Plus, waitressing is a life skill I’ll always have.”