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Good Night, Gracie
Kristin Gabriel
Two men. Totally different. Which one to choose?Bookstore owner Gracie Dawson's fantasy comes true when she manages to seduce classmate Gilbert Holloway, her former best friend, at their ten-year reunion. There's only one problem–Gilbert isn't Gilbert. His real name is Zack Maddox and he's investigating the missing Holloway for criminal activities. But now the only activities Zack wants to indulge in are between the sheets with Gracie….


A note from the editor…
Well, this is it—the last month of Harlequin Temptation. We’ve had a good run, but everybody knows that all good things have to end sometime. And you have to admit, Temptation is very, very good….
When we celebrated our twentieth anniversary last year, we personified the series as a twenty-year-old woman. She was young, legal (well, almost) and old enough to get into trouble. Well, now that she’s twenty-one and officially legal, she’s leaving home. And she’s going to be missed.
I’d like to take this opportunity to thank the countless number of authors who have given me, and other Harlequin Temptation editors past and present, so many hours of enjoyable reading. They made working at Harlequin an absolute pleasure.
I’d also like to thank our loyal readers for all their support over the past twenty-one years. Never forget—you are the reason we all do what we do. (Check out the back autograph section if you don’t believe me.)
But this doesn’t have to be the end….
Next month Harlequin Blaze increases to six books, and will be bringing the best of Harlequin Temptation along with it. Look for more books in THE WRONG BED, 24 HOURS and THE MIGHTY QUINNS miniseries. And don’t miss Blazing new stories by your favorite Temptation authors. Drop in at tryblaze.com for details.
It’s going to be a lot of fun. I hope you can join us.
Brenda Chin
Associate Senior Editor
Temptation/Blaze

Zack’s self-control was crumbling fast
“I think it’s time to say good-night, Gracie.”
She leaned toward him and whispered, “Not yet.”
He knew he’d lost the battle the moment her lips met his. His conscience tugged at him to stop, but Zack couldn’t pull back now. Not yet. Not when she tasted so good. Not when his hands on her breasts evoked those soft, needy whimpers in the back of her throat.
Somewhere in a corner of his lust-fogged brain he knew this wasn’t right, that making love to Gracie while impersonating Gilbert wasn’t fair to her. But when he broke the kiss to tell her, she pushed him back on the bed, then slid one hand down to his waist and placed it over the bulge in his pants.
Zack groaned aloud. He was lost now. And he didn’t care if he ever found his way back.
Good Night, Gracie
Kristin Gabriel


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear Reader,
One of my favorite quotes is “A dream is just a dream. A goal is a dream with a plan and a deadline.” (Harvey Mackay) We all have dreams, and my heroine, Gracie Dawson, is no different. But it’s not until she turns her dream of seducing her best friend into a goal—with a plan and a deadline—that her life suddenly takes a turn in a new and exciting direction.
My goal in writing this latest installment of the fabulous WRONG BED miniseries was to make it both exciting and entertaining for my readers. I hope I succeeded.
I’d love to hear what you think about Good Night, Gracie. Please write to me at P.O. Box 5162, Grand Island, NE 68802-5162.
Happy reading—and may all your dreams come true!
Kristin Gabriel

Books by Kristin Gabriel
HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION
834—DANGEROUSLY IRRESISTIBLE
868—SEDUCED IN SEATTLE
896—SHEERLY IRRESISTIBLE
909—PROPOSITIONED?
932—ENGAGING ALEX
966—STRANGERS IN THE NIGHT
996—NIGHT AFTER NIGHT…
To all the wonderful authors of Harlequin Temptation—thanks for the memories.
The Temptation Years
1984–2005
Autographs













Contents
Prologue (#ufb28fb0f-0077-596d-b633-d609f0a5db07)
Chapter 1 (#ubdf074da-0173-5675-ac3d-3c76b58f9fb6)
Chapter 2 (#u55bb9377-834f-59d3-bfb2-a6a44cd2d93d)
Chapter 3 (#u9d683ca5-986d-521c-ab12-2c9fb423c12a)
Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue
“IT’S OVER.”
The words she’d been dreading to hear rang in Gracie Dawson’s ears. It’s over. Her dreams of attending law school—of finally embarking on a life of her own—were over. Goliath had won again.
“I knew those biddies at the historical society would reject us.” Cat Sheehan mixed drinks behind the mahogany bar while Cat’s sister Laine sat shell-shocked on a bar stool between Gracie and waitress Tess Applegate.
As usual, the bar was empty of customers. Temptation was owned by the Sheehan sisters and housed in the same old brick building as Between the Covers, the bookstore Gracie had inherited from her aunt. Recent road construction had caused business to dwindle at both establishments, but that didn’t make accepting their loss any easier.
This time Goliath had come in the form of city hall, with plans to demolish the building in order to widen the street. Appealing to the Kendall Historical Society to have the building declared a landmark had been their last hope.
Temptation was like a second home to Gracie and these women like a second family. She’d let them down. Just as she’d let down her aunt Fran, unable to challenge the insurance company that had refused to cover all the medical expenses incurred during her decade-long fight against kidney disease. They’d gone to lawyers for help, but none of them had been willing to take on the sprawling legal department of a huge corporation.
That made them gutless wonders in Gracie’s estimation. She’d heard too many stories of people like her aunt at the mercy of bureaucrats and pencil-pushers. Gracie was ready to do some pushing herself—or shoving, as the case may be. But she needed a law degree first and that took time and money. Both would be in short supply now that she’d be forced to relocate the bookstore.
But she believed in loyalty—and keeping promises. Before her aunt had died, she’d told Gracie that as long as Between the Covers existed, a part of her would live, too. Gracie had vowed to keep her legacy alive.
She owed Aunt Fran that much.
Anger flared inside of her at the unfairness of it all. Her aunt had died eleven months ago, worn-out from the struggle of battling both the disease and the bill collectors whom she just managed to satisfy. She’d left everything to Gracie. The house. The bookstore. Her prized collection of Harlequin romance novels. Though she’d never married, Fran Dawson had been a romantic at heart.
Gracie had come to live with her in Kendall, Texas, when she was fifteen years old, after her parents had answered a call to become missionaries. Adjusting to life in Kendall had been difficult at first, made even more so by the tight cliques at her new high school. Losing herself in all those romance books had helped ease the transition.
So had Gilbert Holloway, the high school’s resident computer geek, who had become her best friend. They’d spent most of their free time together watching vintage comedy shows on television and making big plans to attend the same college somewhere on the East Coast after graduation.
Then her aunt had been diagnosed with kidney disease and Gracie’s plans had drastically changed. Chronically ill, Fran had depended on her for care and to help run Between the Covers. Gracie had never told anyone how much she’d missed going off to college like the rest of her classmates.
Just like she’d never told anyone how much she hated the bookstore.
Except for Gilbert.
He’d left for Boston after graduation and never looked back. For the past ten years, they’d corresponded almost daily by e-mail, his messages like a lifeline to her as her aunt’s condition had worsened. He let her whine and rant and worry without judging her. Gilbert was the only man who understood her. The only man who knew how much her dreams meant to her.
Perhaps that’s why she had so much trouble meeting men in Texas. Even while taking night classes over the past ten years to obtain her bachelor’s degree, dates had been few and far between. None of the men she met ever lived up to Gilbert.
Maybe he was just safe. A man she could dream about without ever having to follow through. And dream she did, though Gilbert would never know about those fantasies. That was the one thing about her life that she didn’t share with him.
Though she’d done plenty of looking, Gracie had never found a local version of Gilbert. She hadn’t seen him in over a decade, but he was still the example she measured other men by.
Not that she’d done a lot of measuring lately. Running the bookstore didn’t leave much time for a social life. This latest news meant putting everything in her life on hold indefinitely.
So be it. She wasn’t about to surrender to the Goliaths of this world. Gracie Dawson would find a way to survive. She always did.
Laine visibly deflated beside her, making Gracie realize she’d only been thinking about herself. Temptation had been in the Sheehan family for over twenty years, handed down to the sisters by their mother, Brenda. Cat ran the bar while Laine worked full-time as a magazine photographer. They loved Temptation as much as she hated the bookstore.
“The city wants a new road, so we’re out,” Cat said, breaching the silence. She looked over at Gracie. “Did you really think we’d change anything tonight?”
Despite knowing it was a long shot, Gracie had counted on it. Which was ridiculous, since nothing in her life ever turned out as she planned. At twenty-eight, she was certainly old enough to know that by now. It was time to start coping with reality.
“Where am I going to store all those books if I can’t find a new place in thirty days?” she wondered aloud.
Nobody had any answers for her. Gracie knew she’d have to use every cent of her savings to make this move once she found a new location. A place that would undoubtedly charge higher rent for the bookstore than she was paying now. Add to that the advertising dollars needed to retain their old customers, as well as garnering new ones, and the task seemed overwhelming.
“How will I find another job as good as this one?” Tess asked. She’d hired on as a waitress a year ago, forming a fast friendship with Gracie, Cat and Laine.
Gracie wished she could offer Tess a position at the bookstore, but she’d be lucky to retain her assistant manager, Trina Powers, once they moved the store. Her budget had already been sliced and diced to the bare bones.
Laine looked up at her sister. “How are we going to explain this to Mom?”
Tess reached over and patted her hand. “Brenda will understand. She’ll be pissed but she’ll deal with it.”
Angry tears gleamed in Laine’s eyes. “I just can’t believe it.”
Cat pushed a cosmopolitan toward each of them. “Had faith in the system, Lainey dear?”
“Yes, I did,” Laine replied, crushing the letter in her hand. “This isn’t right. How can they just take away everything we’ve worked for?”
“Because they can.” Gracie took a sip of her drink, knowing this news had them all reeling—even Cat. She was just better at hiding it than the rest of them. They were at the mercy of the people in charge, powerless to change anything now.
She hated that feeling. That’s why becoming a lawyer had been her dream for so long. She wanted to make a difference in peoples’ lives.
Gracie watched Laine get up and turn away, making her wish she could have done something to make this situation turn out differently. It had been her idea to approach the Kendall Historical Society, hoping her exhaustive research into the history of the old building would sway them enough to name it a landmark. She’d handed it all over to Laine to make the presentation, but Gracie obviously hadn’t given her enough ammunition.
Gracie slipped off the barstool and walked over to Laine, then put her arm around her shoulder. “This isn’t your fault.”
A bitter smile flickered on Laine’s mouth. “Sure it is. If I’d talked to the right person, made the right argument…”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. The city would still be steamrolling over our businesses.”
“Maybe.”
Gracie knew all too well how futile it was to imagine what might have been. You had to face life head-on and find a way to survive.
Her parents hadn’t made it, succumbing to a jungle fever only six months after moving to South America. Neither had Aunt Fran. Gracie had survived through a lot of loss. But she was tired of just surviving. Tired of existing in limbo.
Now she wanted to live—really live.
“What are you going to do now?” Laine asked her.
“Find someplace cheap to lease for Between the Covers.” Gracie looked around the bar at the oak paneling on the walls and the unique architectural detail on the high ceiling that matched that of the bookstore. “Whatever I find, it will never live up to this place.”
“I’ve got money from my new job, if you need anything—”
“I’ll be fine.” Gracie knew she’d be able to handle the expenses by using her savings for law school. She’d been accepted at the University of Texas for the upcoming fall semester, but now that would never happen.
Maybe it was time to find a new dream.
Laine was watching Gracie, a mix of worry and self-recrimination in her eyes.
“You shouldn’t take so much on yourself,” Gracie told her, searching for some way to comfort her. “There’s nothing more you can do here. Why don’t you go away for a few days? Take some time for yourself.”
Laine shook her head. “I can’t. I just turned in my first assignment. I don’t want it to be my last. Not to mention Aunt Jen is making me crazy. Those wildfires in California are threatening…” her voice trailed off, then she looked up at Gracie. “June 30, right?”
“That’s D-day apparently. Less than a month away.”
Gracie’s mind whirled with everything that needed to be done in that time. But she simply couldn’t deal with it at the moment. Maybe she should take her own advice and get away from the bookstore for a few days. Her ten-year high school reunion was coming up this weekend in Kendall. That would be a perfect excuse to make a temporary escape from her responsibilities.
And a perfect excuse to fulfill the one dream she’d never dared to pursue.

1
ZACH MADDOX SAT illuminated in the blue glow of the computer screen. He’d been there for hours, cross-coding files and making another security sweep of the hard drive. At least, that was the excuse he was using to stay on the job. The reality was that he’d been waiting to hear from Gracie. He knew this was the day the decision was due from the Kendall Historical Society. He hoped her silence meant that she was out celebrating.
Yawning, he stretched his arms over his head, trying to ease the stiffness in his shoulders. He’d spent more time in this chair the past few months than he had in his own bed. Despite his efforts, they weren’t any closer to discovering where Gilbert Holloway was hiding. The man had disappeared three months ago.
Holloway, a key witness in a conspiracy case involving credit card theft, had demanded police protection in return for his testimony. Closing his eyes, Zach wondered for the thousandth time why he’d let his partner stay alone with Holloway that night. The rookie had been determined to prove himself, but Zach should have followed his instincts and pulled the duty himself.
That mistake had gotten Ray shot and cost him the use of his legs.
Some thug had broken in shortly before dawn, apparently to scare Holloway into silence. Ray had fallen asleep on the living room sofa. When he’d heard a window break, he’d panicked and pulled his gun before taking cover.
According to Ray’s story, the thug had wrestled him for it while Gilbert escaped out the back door. The gun went off, wounding Ray and scaring the thug away. Zach still remembered coming in that morning to find his partner unconscious on the floor in a pool of blood.
The kid had taken a bullet in the back and it had been touch-and-go for a while. Long enough for Zach to feel out of control, a sensation he always did his best to avoid. So he turned his attention to something he could control—bringing the shooter in. He was certain Holloway could identify him—now he just had to find the guy.
Footprints in the dew-laden grass had led them to a neighbor’s garage, where Holloway had apparently hot-wired a Jeep Cherokee before taking off to parts unknown. Three days later the Jeep had been found abandoned on a back road in southern Ohio, but there was no sign of Gilbert Holloway anywhere.
His best guess was that their star witness had staged a disappearing act for his own safety, not trusting the police to protect him anymore. Zach supposed he couldn’t really blame the guy—though he thought Holloway was a bit of a wimp. One of those computer jockeys who lived, ate, and slept in front of a keyboard and monitor.
Like Zach was doing now.
At least he had a good reason. All of their leads had turned out to be dead ends. The only hope of finding Holloway now was connecting with one of his friends in cyberspace. Someone who might drop a clue as to where the man would hide.
It wasn’t much to go on, but Zach didn’t have any alternatives.
A ding resounded from the computer, signaling an incoming e-mail. Zach sat up straight in the chair, his pulse picking up speed.
Gracie.
His reaction had nothing to do with the case and everything to do with the woman on the other side of that e-mail. A friend of Holloway’s from high school, the two of them had corresponded daily for the past ten years. After Holloway had disappeared, Zach had taken up the slack, pretending to be Gilbert. At first, he’d hoped to catch a break in the case, thinking Gracie Dawson might reveal something useful. After all, it seemed she knew the guy better than anybody.
But he soon discovered she knew nothing of Gilbert’s foray into the criminal world. Zach should have stopped corresponding with her when he realized she couldn’t help him locate Gilbert, but something kept drawing him to her e-mails. Something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Her witty, irreverent style? The way she made him laugh? Or maybe the loneliness he glimpsed between the lines. The same loneliness that engulfed him when he stopped working long enough to notice it.
He soon found himself caught up in the details of her life and in the woman herself. Zach knew how much she’d loved her aunt. How much she hated working at the bookstore. How long she’d dreamed of going to law school so she could become a plaintiff’s attorney and fight all the injustices in the world.
A noble ambition. One that made him admire her all the more. Zach had tracked down an old high school yearbook in Gilbert’s house to find her picture. He knew people changed over ten years, but she’d still have those same wide blue eyes. That same enticing smile.
He knew it was crazy to lust after a woman he’d never even met—one who lived over a thousand miles away. But maybe that’s why she appealed to him.
Zach wasn’t looking for a close relationship with a woman. He had seen too many fellow officers leave a wife and family behind to risk inflicting that kind of heartache on anyone. That’s why he kept his relationships short-term, preferring to devote himself to his work. Everybody had to make choices in life.
Zach chose to go it alone.
He reached for the mouse, clicking on the e-mail. The subject line read Plan B. That wasn’t a good sign.
Hi Gilbert,
I guess I’m not cut out to chase ambulances. Besides, who wants to graduate from law school when they’re thirty-four years old? If you haven’t guessed by now, the Kendall Historical Society turned down our application. So that means I’ll have to find a new place for Between the Covers in the next twenty days and work there for approximately the next twenty years to pay off all the bills.
But no more whining. I promise.
Did you get your invitation to our high school reunion? Are you coming? It’s been ten years since we’ve seen each other. That’s much too long. I miss you, Gil, and I really need to see you.
Please say you’ll be there.
Love, Gracie.
Zach read her e-mail again, feeling the pain behind her words. Giving up law school was killing her, no matter how she tried to brush it aside. Just last month she’d sent him an e-mail telling about her acceptance at the University of Texas. Her excitement had jumped off the computer screen.
Now she was in pain, though he knew she’d never reveal it to anyone else. Zach just wished there was some way to make her feel better. The same helplessness that had come over him in the hospital gnawed at him now.
Please say you’ll be there.
Zach was so tempted. But how could he fly off to Texas when he had a job to do? Besides, she wanted to see Gilbert Holloway, not him. She didn’t even know Zach existed.
He hit the reply button, then poised his fingers over the keyboard, hating the thought of causing her more disappointment. For a moment, he considered putting off a reply until tomorrow, but he didn’t think he should give himself that time to mull over his response. His strong desire to see Gracie might overcome his better judgment.
Staring at the blank screen, he searched for the perfect words to let her down easy. At least she could commiserate with Cat, Laine, Tess and Trina. He’d read enough stories about them in her e-mails to make him feel as if he knew them all personally.
But Gracie was the one he saw when he closed his eyes at night. The one he made love to in his dreams.
“Just do it,” Zach muttered to himself, hating any kind of procrastination. He believed in taking action, no matter what the consequences. That philosophy had saved his life on more than one occasion.
But as he started to type Gracie’s name, a pop sounded from the computer and the screen went black, leaving him in total darkness. He rose from the chair and flipped up the light switch on the wall. Nothing. The electricity was off. What he didn’t know yet was the reason why. A simple power failure or something more sinister?
Pulling his gun from his shoulder holster, Zach moved into the hallway. He didn’t have a flashlight on him, but he knew the house well enough to navigate his way through the darkness and into the living room. Once there, light from the street lamps shone through the large picture window, illuminating his path. He could see the shadow of the bloodstain on the carpet where Ray had fallen—a daily reminder of how much was at stake in this investigation.
He cocked the gun, then moved into the kitchen. Two voices, both male, emanated from the garage. Zach stopped when he heard a door open into the house and leaned back against a cupboard.
“Yeah, it sucks, but at least we get overtime,” said one of the men.
“Does overtime include the last four hours we spent at the bar watching the Red Sox?” asked the other.
“Hey, I’ll earn a lot more than that if the Sox can win that thing. I’ve got a couple hundred bucks on ’em.”
Zach holstered his gun. He recognized the voices and knew he wasn’t in any danger. They belonged to the department’s technicians, Shawn Foy and Jason Billings. Now he just had to find out what the hell they were doing here.
As the two men rounded the corner, the beam of a flashlight landed directly on Zach. They both jumped in surprise when they saw him.
“Damn,” Shawn exclaimed. “You scared the crap out of me, Maddox.”
“The lights were all off,” Jason said. “We thought the house was empty.”
“You were wrong.” Zach held one hand in front of his face to shadow it from the beam. “Turn that thing another direction before you blind me. Did you two shut off the electricity?”
“Sure did,” Shawn replied. “We’ve got orders from Brannigan to close up the house and pack up all the equipment—including the computer.”
Thomas Brannigan was Zach’s commanding officer and in charge of the Holloway case. Aveteran detective, he worked strictly by the book, which had caused more than a few skirmishes between the two of them. But he’d never done anything behind Zach’s back before.
“Do you always work in the dark?” Zach asked, looking between the two of them.
Jason scowled. “It’s not my fault. Shawn here thinks I’ll turn on the ball game and leave him to do all the work.”
“I don’t think it, I know it,” Shawn quipped. “That game was going into the fourteenth inning when I finally dragged him out of the bar. It’s not worth losing my job over.”
But Zach, once a rabid Red Sox fan, hadn’t cared much about baseball over the past three months. All he cared about right now was solving this case. “Brannigan didn’t say anything to me about moving the operation.”
“We’re not moving it,” Jason said. “We’re shutting it down.”
Zach stared at him. “Like hell.”
Shawn moved past him. “Sorry, Maddox, but we’ve got our orders. If you don’t like it, you’ll just have to talk to the boss. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner I can get back to the game.”
Zach followed them into the small office and watched them unplug all the cables from the computer. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Adding to his irritation was the fact that he hadn’t gotten a chance to reply to Gracie’s e-mail.
Certain there had to be a misunderstanding, Zach left the house and drove to Brannigan’s home. The trip from Holloway’s home on the south side of Boston took almost an hour. It was only when Brannigan answered his door wearing a robe and a scowl did Zach consider that he should have called first.
“Why the hell are you banging on my door at this time of night?” Thomas growled. “It sure as hell better be an emergency. My wife and kids are trying to sleep.”
“We need to talk.”
“Now?”
“It won’t take long.”
Brannigan’s scowl deepened, but he opened the door wider and waved Zach inside. “Make it quick.”
Zach crossed the threshold, almost tripping over a stuffed teddy bear in the foyer. Brannigan had four kids under the age of ten, a fact that was evident everywhere Zach looked. The toys littering the floor. The family pictures covering the wall. The cookie crumbs on the coffee table.
A sharp contrast to Zach’s place, which barely had any furniture. Just a sofa, a bed, and a thirteen-inch television set. Not that he minded the Spartan environment, since he didn’t spend much time there anyway.
“Well, get to it.” Thomas tossed a Barbie doll off the sofa cushion before taking a seat.
“I heard a rumor that you’re shutting down the Holloway case.”
“It’s no rumor,” Thomas replied. “You know as well as I do that this case has reached a dead end. We can’t afford to waste any more time on it.”
Waste time? Zach was certain he couldn’t be hearing him right. “So we just forget about it? Forget that Ray will never walk again? Forget that the scum who shot him is still out there somewhere?”
Brannigan’s face hardened. “I’ll never forget what happened to Ray. But you’ve been pushing the boundaries with this case ever since Ray got shot. I’ve given you some leeway, because he was your partner, but enough is enough. There are other cases to solve—other perps who need to be apprehended.”
Zach rifled a hand through his hair, grappling for a way to change Brannigan’s mind. His boss was a stubborn Irishman, but even he had to know this was a big mistake.
“You look like hell,” Thomas said, scowling at him. “When was the last time you shaved?”
“Why the hell does it matter? I’ve been busy.”
“You’ve been obsessed,” his boss countered. “I tried to call you at home tonight to give you the news about the investigation, but I had to leave a message on your machine. You were sitting in front of that damn computer at the Holloway house again, weren’t you?”
“That’s my job,” Zach reminded him.
“Don’t give me that crap,” Thomas spit out. “You’re not on duty twenty-four hours a day. You’ve lost weight and look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
“Maybe if you worried as much about this investigation as you do about my appearance, we’d have found Gilbert Holloway by now.”
Thomas slowly rose to his feet. “I’ve about had it with your attitude, Maddox. Don’t push me.”
But Zach didn’t back off. “Hell, somebody’s got to do it if we’re ever going to find the bastard who shot Ray.”
Thomas stared at him, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “I think it’s time you took a vacation.”
“I don’t need a damn vacation. I just need to work this case.”
“That’s not going to happen. You’re off the case and off the force for the next thirty days. Effective immediately.”
His words were like a sucker punch to the gut. “You’re suspending me?”
“Call it a mandatory vacation,” Brannigan replied. “There’s more to life than the job, Zach. You’re going to burn out at this rate. You need to find yourself a beach somewhere in the Caribbean and start hunting for women instead of criminals.”
He recognized that obstinate glint in Brannigan’s green eyes. The man wasn’t going to change his mind. Zach had gone too far this time.
“Now go home,” Thomas ordered, ushering him to the door, “and get some sleep. I don’t want to see you for at least a month.”
Before he could say another word, Zach found himself standing outside, the door slammed in his face. He’d blown it. Standing on the front porch, he replayed their conversation over in his mind, wondering if there was something else he could have said to convince Brannigan to change his mind.
It was too late now. He was off the case. But he had no desire to play beach bum for the next four weeks. There was only one place he wanted to go—one person he wanted to see. And the reasons why he should stay away didn’t seem to matter anymore.
“Gracie Dawson, here I come.”

2
THE NIGHT OF HER HIGH SCHOOL reunion, Gracie stepped into Between the Covers wearing her borrowed black dress and matching stilettos, feeling a little like Cinderella. Only she didn’t intend to run away from her Prince Charming at midnight. Just the opposite, in fact.
She’d spent hours preparing for this night, grateful the reunion was in Kendall so she didn’t have to factor in travel time. Yet, there was something pathetic about the fact that she hadn’t left this place for the past ten years. Most of her classmates would be coming in from long distances.
“How do I look?” she asked her assistant store manager, turning in a slow circle.
“Sensational.” Trina Powers walked out from behind the counter, the prosthesis on her left leg visible beneath her denim miniskirt. A motorcycle accident eight years ago had led to an amputation just above Trina’s knee. Some days she used a wheelchair, but most of the time she wore the prosthesis, ignoring the stares of the customers and challenging anyone who tried to pity her.
Despite her disability, nothing ever stopped the thirty-two-year-old from performing her duties at the bookstore—or voicing her opinion.
“That’s a Let’s-Have-Sex outfit if I ever saw one,” Trina said with a smile.
Gracie looked down at the slinky halter dress she had on loan from Tess. The four-inch heels belonged to Cat, who never seemed to have any trouble attracting men. “That’s good because I’m definitely aiming for provocative.”
“I know what we should do,” Trina replied. “Let’s ask the expert. Hemingway’s around here somewhere.”
Paul Toscano, an aspiring writer whom Trina had nicknamed Hemingway, was a daily fixture at the bookstore. Every morning he arrived with his laptop and a sack lunch, then settled into his favorite nook to work on his book-in-progress until closing time.
“Hey, Ernest,” Trina bellowed, “come out here. We need your opinion on something.”
Paul emerged from between the bookcases, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses up on his nose. His shirt and jeans fit loosely on his slight build and his auburn hair and beard were in need of a trim. His soulful brown eyes fixed on Trina and Gracie could see a blush form beneath his whiskers.
“You called?” he asked Trina.
“Gracie has a hot date tonight,” Trina began, “and we need someone with a Y chromosome to tell us if this outfit she’s wearing will trip his trigger.”
His blush deepened as he turned his gaze to Gracie. “It’s very nice.”
Gracie wasn’t going for nice. She wanted Gilbert’s eyes to pop when he saw her. She wanted him to drag her up to his hotel room at the Claremont and ravish her. On second thought, she’d do the ravishing. After reading all those romances in her aunt’s collection, she was ready to bring some of those erotic scenes to life.
“Nice?” Trina echoed, staring at Paul. “You’re a writer. A wordsmith. Is that really the best you can do? How about sexy? Stunning? Irresistible?”
“Maybe I should take you with me to the reunion,” Gracie said to her, “in case Gilbert needs some prodding.”
“He won’t,” Paul said. “You look lovely.”
Gracie wished she could be as confident. Gilbert hadn’t responded to her e-mail, which wasn’t like him. So she’d made a call to the reunion coordinator, who’d confirmed that he’d be there.
She took a deep breath, wondering what it would be like to see him again after all these years. Though there had been some gaps in his communications to her the past couple of years, he’d recently started e-mailing her more than ever.
Their exchanges seemed more personal somehow, with a sexual undercurrent that intrigued her, made her feel closer to him than ever. Maybe because they were both nearing thirty and still single. Whatever the reason, it was long past time to discover if their friendship could lead to something more.
“I looked Gilbert up in an old yearbook,” Trina said, pulling one off the shelf. Between the Covers had every yearbook from Kendall High School dating back to 1934. “He’s not exactly what I expected.”
Gracie looked over Trina’s shoulder as she paged to the senior picture section of the yearbook.
“There he is,” Trina said, her finger tapping on his photo.
A stout teenage boy with shaggy dark hair, chipmunk cheeks and Coke-bottle bottom glasses that magnified his brown eyes stared back at Gracie. He wore a frayed denim jacket and a sullen expression, neither of which made him appear very appealing.
“Gilbert was never photogenic,” Gracie said in his defense. “And he told me he lost a bunch of weight five years ago and had Lasik surgery, so the glasses are gone. Besides, I’ve gone out with plenty of guys who looked great on the outside but were jerks on the inside. At least I know Gilbert isn’t a jerk.”
“You’re absolutely right.” Trina closed the yearbook. “Besides, who am I to judge? It’s not like I have a Gilbert or any other man knocking down my door.”
Paul cleared his throat and started to say something, but before he could get the words out, Trina abruptly changed the subject.
“I found a couple of possibilities in the real estate section today.” She moved to the counter and swiped the newspaper off the green marble top. “Not the best locations, but we obviously 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 was a question Zach couldn’t answer, so he hedged a little. “We’ve always been close.”
She laughed. “And you’ve always been so secretive. I never could get any juicy tidbits out of you.”
“I guess I’m just not a juicy kind of guy.”
“Maybe not back in high school,” she replied, her gaze roaming voraciously over his body. “But you have definitely improved with age.”
Zach sensed it was time to move on, but before he could make an excuse to end their conversation, Sandra sidled closer to him.
“Can you believe it?” she asked in a hushed whisper, her gaze fixed across the room. “I think that’s Allison Webb. Right over there, next to the punch bowl. Imagine her just showing up here like she graduated with all the rest of us! That certainly takes some nerve. Especially since I didn’t even send her an invitation.”
Zach followed her gaze and saw a tall blonde scoping out the room. “Did she drop out or something?”
Sandra looked up at him with a snort of disbelief. “How could you forget? It was the talk of the school for months. Allison just disappeared in the middle of our senior year. No warning. No explanation. Some people said she got pregnant. Others claimed she got busted for drugs and thrown in jail. But nobody ever knew for sure.”
Now it clicked. In the back of the yearbook had been a mock-up of a wanted poster with Allison’s picture on it and text underneath that read:
The senior class of Kendall High is offering a reward of one dollar for any information about AWOL classmate Allison Webb. She was last seen in the computer lab, wearing a pink sweater and white denim jeans.
“Well, it looks like the mystery will be solved tonight,” Zach said. “All we have to do is ask her where she went and why.”
Sandra smiled as she swept her arm in Allison’s direction. “Be my guest, Mr. Holloway. I’ll be waiting to soak up all your juicy tidbits.”
Zach walked across the room, driven more by a desire to escape Sandra than any curiosity about Allison. As he approached her, she caught sight of his name tag, her eyes widening in surprise.
“Gilbert Holloway?” she said, looking him up and down.
“That’s right,” he replied. “How are you, Allison?”
“You know how I am.” She moved closer to him and whispered, “The question is, what are you doing here?”
“Catching up with old friends,” he replied, caught off guard by her reaction.
“Are you nuts?” she hissed. “This isn’t the time to be playing games. There’s too much at stake.”
His instincts as a cop kicked into high gear at her words. It looked like there was more to the mystery of Allison than anyone here had imagined. There was something going on between her and Gilbert. Not a physical relationship, obviously, since she didn’t realize he was an imposter—which left another incriminating possibility.
“I guess I like to live dangerously.”
“I know why you’re here,” she accused, her gaze narrowing on him. “You want to see goody-two-shoes Gracie.”
The jealousy in her tone was unmistakable. But he still couldn’t be sure about her connection to Gilbert. He needed to draw her out and make her reveal something that would lead him in the right direction. “What makes you say that?”
“Maybe the fact that you’re compromising the entire plan by showing up here tonight. Why did you insist that I make contact with Walker Mullen if you were planning to be here?”
Walker Mullen? The name didn’t sound familiar. Just how many alumni from the class of ’95 were involved in this case?
“In case you’re interested, he bought my story about the stalker and is making the plans for us to travel incognito. I’m supposed to pick up the airline tickets at his agency on Monday.”
So Walker Mullen was a local travel agent—and a dupe. That answered one question but still didn’t get him any closer to finding Gilbert.
“Now you’re taking a chance of blowing everything. And for what?” She rolled her eyes. “A chance to moon over Gracie Dawson?”
Zach wished he knew what she was talking about. He was floundering here and had no idea how to dig for more information without revealing himself.
“Let me buy you a drink,” he offered, noting the empty glass in her hand. He could smell the alcohol on her breath and hoped a little more would help her loosen her tongue.
She shook her head. “I’m leaving now. Besides, I prefer to keep a clear head. It’s safer that way. And I suggest you do the same—especially around Gracie. If she gets in the way…”
“What?” he prodded, his skin prickling at her tone.
“Just follow the plan and Gracie won’t get hurt,” Allison replied. “I know where she lives, so if anything goes wrong—and I mean, anything, then she’ll be the one who pays. Got it?”
Before he could reply to her not-so-veiled threat, Allison turned on her heel and walked away. Zach started to follow her when another woman came into his view. The woman he’d flown over a thousand miles to meet. The woman he’d only seen before this moment in a yearbook and in his dreams.
Gracie.

3
GRACIE STOOD in the crowded ballroom at the Claremont Hotel, her gaze skimming over the faces of her old classmates. Some were familiar to her, some she barely recognized anymore. A few of them cast glances her way, but most were engaged in conversation, gathered in small clusters at tables or standing around the bar.
The one classmate she didn’t see was Gilbert. Her heart sank when she realized all her preparation—the dress, the shoes, the romance books, just might have been for nothing. It looked like Gilbert was a no-show. Maybe her e-mail had sounded too desperate, too needy. She’d scared the man off. That was probably the reason he’d never bothered to reply to her.
Gracie walked over to the punch bowl, telling herself not to obsess about it. She could still have a good time tonight and reacquaint herself with all of her old classmates—although the thought of hearing all of their success stories depressed her even more.
“Gracie Dawson, is that really you?”
She turned around to see a buxom blonde barreling down on her. The woman held a name tag in one hand and a margarita in the other. Her face looked somewhat familiar, but Gracie couldn’t place her.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?” the woman said, laughing as she slapped the name tag onto Gracie’s dress. “It’s me, Sandra Atley. And here I thought geeky Gilbert would win the award for Most Changed Since High School.”
“Geeky Gilbert?” she echoed, her heart skipping a beat. “Is he here?”
“Of course he’s here,” Sandra replied. “And wait until you see him. You won’t believe your eyes.” She grabbed Gracie by the elbow and pivoted her around. “He’s right over…” Her voice trailed off and she frowned. “Well, he was right over there. I’m not sure where he is now.”
Gracie smoothed down her dress and tried not to hyperventilate, aware that he could appear at any moment. “So how have you been, Sandra?”
“Fantastic,” she replied. “I just got transferred to the Kendall State Bank from the main branch in Houston. It’s great to be back home again. I’m still a teller, but I’ve got my eye on a management position. It’s all about networking, you know, and I’ve already scored some great dirt on the current bank manager.”
Gracie forced herself to maintain eye contact instead of looking around for Gilbert. Let him come to me.
“So what about you, Gracie?” Sandra asked. “Are you married? Any kids?”
“Oh, no,” Gracie replied. “Not yet, anyway. The bookstore keeps me too busy.”
Her smile softened with pity. “Are you still working there? It’s such a sweet little place. I heard about your aunt passing away and meant to send you a card, but time got away from me. That’s why I’m so excited to be moving back to Kendall. Everything in the big city is just rush, rush, rush!”
“So I’ve heard.” Gracie didn’t know what else to say, reminding her of how little she’d had in common with most of her classmates at Kendall High. She’d thought ten years might have changed that, but a quick perusal of the ballroom showed that many of the old cliques still remained, though the lines were a bit more blurred now.
She’d always been an outsider, along with Gilbert. Now she wanted to find him again and see if the bond they’d shared a decade ago was still there. A bond that had grown even stronger these past few months. He seemed more thoughtful in his e-mails now. Less cynical. Though he still had the ability to make her laugh.
She wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one who had really changed, especially since Aunt Fran’s death. After working through her grief, she’d become more driven than ever to pursue her dream to become a lawyer. Not that she’d ever succeed now—but Gilbert had always believed in her.
And that had made all the difference in the world.
“There’s Honey Tate.” Sandra pointed across the ballroom. “Rumor has it that she’s marrying some senile oil tycoon from San Antonio. Remember how she was always flirting with all the male teachers in school? Looks like she was polishing her skills for the geriatric set.”
“I don’t recognize half the people here,” Gracie said, still amazed at the changes in some of her classmates. She wondered if she looked as different to them as they did. Her hair was shorter than it had been in high school and she’d gained a few pounds. Though she’d skipped the boob job that had dramatically altered Sandra’s appearance.
“Who is that over by the palm tree?” Gracie asked.
“Mitch Putnam,” Sandra replied. “Isn’t it a hoot? The guy’s at least six inches taller than he was in high school. He must have gotten lifts or something.”
“Maybe he just had a late growth spurt.”
“It’s certainly possible.” Sandra adjusted her cleavage. “That’s what happened to me.” Then she dug her arm into Gracie’s ribs. “Don’t look now, but here he comes.”
“Mitch?”
“No, Gilbert!”
Gracie’s breath caught in her throat as she turned to see a man approaching them. But as soon as she saw him she realized it wasn’t Gilbert. This man was too handsome. Too confident. Too…sexy.
Despite her disappointment, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She barely heard Sandra’s whispered plea to put in a good word for her before she found herself standing alone with him.
“Hello, Gracie.”
The way he said her name sent a shiver of awareness down her spine and she forced her gaze from his dark brown eyes to the name tag on his jacket.
Gilbert Holloway.
Her gaze flicked to his face again and she searched for some hint of familiarity. But without all that weight, and those glasses that had distorted his face, he looked like a stranger.
“I can’t believe it’s you,” she breathed, still staring up at him.
“I can’t believe how beautiful you look tonight.”
His voice had changed, too, deeper now and more resonant. The boy she’d known had become a man in the past ten years. A sexy, virile, irresistible man.
“I don’t know what to say,” she sputtered, realizing she’d already blown her plan to be cool and alluring. She was gaping like an idiot and no doubt sounding like one, too.
“Then don’t say anything. Dance with me?” he asked, holding out his hand.
She grasped it, relishing the way his broad fingers closed around hers. He led her onto the small dance floor, then pulled her into his arms.
Gracie was still in shock, but she managed to avoid stepping on his toes.
“We’re finally together again,” she said, “after all this time.”
“Finally,” he agreed, drew her even closer until her head rested against his shoulder. The old Gilbert had always smelled like pepperoni, due to his daily diet of frozen pizza. This new Gilbert carried the aroma of musk and man, an erotic combination that almost made her dizzy.
“When did you get here?” she asked, trying to regain her equilibrium. This was just Gilbert, after all. Her oldest and dearest friend. There was no reason for her heart to be tripping in her chest this way or for her knees to feel weak.
“My plane arrived in Dallas this morning and I drove a rental car from the airport.”
“How was your flight?” Another stupid, mundane question, but she was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that Gilbert was here, in her arms, and more incredible than she’d ever imagined.
“Fine. I slept most of the way.”
She smiled up at him. “Slept? Does that mean you don’t have anxiety attacks at thirty thousand feet anymore?”
He hesitated, then gave a short nod. “People change.”
That was the understatement of the millennium. But Gracie wasn’t going to question it, not when this reunion had turned out better than she’d ever imagined.
She swayed to the music, feeling like she was born to be in his arms. “Where did you learn to dance like this?”
A smile kicked up one corner of his mouth. “The Internet.”
“No, really.”
His smile widened. “It’s the truth. I always wanted to learn how to dance, but never had the time. So I used a search engine to locate online dance lessons.”
“Online dance lessons,” she echoed, still skeptical. “Nobody learns to dance like this all by themselves.”
“I might have honed my skills at a few clubs on the weekends.”
His admission evoked a pang of envy at the thought of another woman in his arms. A ridiculous reaction, since they hadn’t seen each other for ten years. The new-and-improved Gilbert had no doubt slept with countless women. He probably had to turn them away at his bedroom door.
But he wouldn’t be turning Gracie away—not if she had anything to say about it. She even had a backup plan tucked away in her purse, in case he needed a little prodding in the right direction.
The thought of sleeping with him sent a shiver of uncertainty through her. Before, she’d envisioned the shy, gawky Gilbert from her high school days, a man who might be as inexperienced as she was between the sheets. But something told her that he was as good a lover as he was a dancer. No doubt another skill that he’d perfected over the years, and not from any online lessons.
She hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed—if they got that far. Maybe she needed to rethink this plan before she made a complete fool of herself.
The music ended, but Gilbert didn’t release her from his embrace. “Shall we find a table and have a drink or keep dancing?”
As much as she’d enjoyed their dance, Gracie needed a few moments alone to refocus. “A drink sounds good to me. Would you mind getting me a glass of champagne while I make a dash to the ladies’ room?”
“Not at all,” he replied. “Shall we meet at a table by the atrium?”
“See you there.” Gracie watched him walk away, then took a deep breath as she went in search of a restroom. She found one in the lobby, enjoying the brief respite from the music and milling crowd to get her head together.
She walked inside the ornate restroom, the sinks and stalls on one side and a plush lounge area on the other. As she headed to a sink, she recognized two former cheerleaders from Kendall High, Carol Ann Blume and Mitzi Mobley. They sat on a suede sofa together talking, unaware or unconcerned of her presence.
Just like back in high school.
Gracie smiled to herself, remembering how much their behavior would have wounded her then. Now she had much bigger things to think about. The biggest at the moment being the man waiting for her in the ballroom. The man she planned to seduce tonight.
She pulled a paper towel from the dispenser, running it under cold water, then wringing it out before pressing it to her flushed face. As Gracie stood at the sink, part of their conversation caught her attention.
“Did you get a look at Gilbert Holloway?” Mitzi asked her companion.
“Oh, I know!” Carol Ann exclaimed. “Talk about a transformation.”
“The guy went from geek to Greek god. Makes me wish I’d been nicer to him back in high school.”
Carol Ann laughed as they got up and headed for the door. “Makes me wish I’d left my husband at home tonight!”
Gracie pulled the paper towel from her face, then touched up her makeup. As she applied her lipstick, she became more determined than ever. Gilbert might have changed on the outside, but he was still the same sweet guy on the inside.
So she didn’t need to be intimidated by him. He was the guy who used to sing show tunes to her when she was feeling down. The same guy who had cried watching Schindler’s List. Women like Sandra, Carol Ann and Mitzi would never appreciate his inner qualities.
Which meant she’d be crazy to miss this opportunity to take her friendship with Gilbert to the next level.
Refreshed and resolved, she walked out of the restroom and into the ballroom. She looked toward the atrium and saw Gilbert already seated at a table. Sandra stood on the other side of him, leaning just far enough in his direction to give Gilbert an R-rated view of her surgically bloated breasts.
“We were just talking about you,” Sandra trilled as Gracie approached the table.
“Really?” She took a chair right next to Gilbert, then smiled up at Sandra. “You’re such a dear. Thanks for keeping Gilbert company while I was gone. I can take over from here so you can go have some fun.”
Disappointment flashed in Sandra’s pale blue eyes, but she hid it with a wide smile. “It was my pleasure. I’ll see you two later.”
“Bye,” Gracie said, watching Sandra turn and head in the direction of another lone male. Then she reached for her champagne, suddenly aware that Gilbert might have been enjoying Sandra’s little peep show. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”
“You’re amazing,” he said, turning to look at her. “You got rid of Sandra, but did it in such a polite way that she thanked you for it.”
“That’s called Southern manners. Also known as slopping sugar. Surely you haven’t been away from Texas for so long that you don’t remember how it works?”
He smiled. “I guess I just needed a refresher course. I’m a long way from home.”
“Is Boston really so different from here?”
He met her gaze. “It’s like another world.”
When he looked at her like that, Gracie felt like they were the only two people in the ballroom. She found herself wishing she could read his mind. That she could know for certain this desire sizzling inside of her wasn’t completely one-sided.
“By the way, I want to apologize for never responding to your last e-mail,” he said. “I’ve been having some computer problems.”
That made her feel better. “To tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure you’d be here tonight.”
“I should have called you,” Gilbert admitted. “But I wanted it to be a surprise. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Gracie drained her glass, sensing that it was now or never. If she didn’t make her move, she’d chicken out. But despite that she’d rehearsed this moment a hundred times in the last few days, Gracie couldn’t make herself say the words. Coming face-to-face with Gilbert, a man she didn’t even recognize anymore, was completely different than propositioning his picture in the yearbook.
So she settled for her backup plan.
“You’re full of surprises lately,” she said, setting the empty glass on the table. “I love the present you sent me.”
He arched a dark brow. “Present?”
“Last week. The video.” Gracie reached into her purse and pulled it out, almost spilling the condoms onto the floor. She hastily stuffed them back inside, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
Gilbert didn’t say anything, making her even more nervous.
“I brought it along in case the reunion got boring and we wanted to bail out and go watch it together,” Gracie said, aware she was talking too fast. “You know, like old times?”
She wanted to sink into the floor. It sounded so lame. And transparent. They weren’t in high school anymore. Gilbert spent his Saturday nights in clubs now, not watching old reruns on television.
His silence stretched into an eternity. Then he took the videotape out of her hands. “How about watching it right now? I think I have a VCR in my hotel room. I bet we can even order a pizza from room service.”
“Pepperoni?” she said, relieved that he hadn’t rejected her offer. That’s when Gracie realized just how much this night with Gilbert meant to her. She’d been alone for so long.
He grinned. “Is there any other kind?”
She looked around the crowded ballroom. “Would it look bad if we left this early?”
He tipped her chin up with one finger until her gaze met his. “I’m looking at the only person I came here to see.”
Gracie’s breath caught at the raw desire she saw in his brown eyes. So maybe the attraction wasn’t one-sided, after all. That very real possibility both excited and terrified her at the same time.

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