Marrying a Delacourt Read online

  And what she believed with all her heart was that Jamie and Josh deserved a better shot than they’d been given. Instead of coming unglued, she should have been making calls, rallying allies who could make that happen for them.

  She paced her room for a while, debating alternatives to Michael’s plan to call in the authorities, but nothing she came up with made a lick of sense. In the end, bottom line, the authorities would have to be notified. Did it really matter if it was tomorrow or the next day? Once they were on the scene, the real work of fighting for Josh and Jamie would begin. Maybe it was better if it began sooner, rather than later. She always focused better once the fight had begun.

  That acceptance of the inevitable didn’t mean she wasn’t sorely tempted to steal down the hall, wake the boys and spirit them away from the house while Michael was sleeping. Only the knowledge that he would probably catch them in the act kept her from trying it.

  She was determined about one thing, though. No call would be made until after she and Michael had made good on their promise to take Josh into town for new boots. There were no guarantees for the future, but she refused to renege on that particular promise. Something told her there would be enough broken promises to come after that.

  Bracing herself to fight Michael over her decision, if need be, she was in the kitchen at dawn making waffles. When the boys came downstairs, they were subdued, as if they sensed that something had happened.

  “You okay?” Jamie asked, studying her. “You look kinda funny, like you been crying or something.”

  “I’m fine,” Grace reassured him.

  Jamie didn’t look convinced. “If Michael’s made you cry, Josh and me will beat him up for you,” he said gamely.

  Grace bit back a smile. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

  “Are you guys, like, dating or something?” Josh asked.

  “We did a long time ago,” Grace said. “Now we’re just friends.” Even as she said it, she realized it was true. Despite all the pain, Michael was her friend. His decision had been made the night before not to be cruel to Jamie and Josh, but, as he saw it, to protect her.

  “Oh,” Josh said, clearly disappointed.

  He and Jamie exchanged a look she couldn’t interpret.

  “Me and Josh have been talking. We were kinda hoping it was more than that,” Jamie explained.

  “Oh? Why?” Grace asked, though she thought she knew.

  “’Cause if you were gonna get married, then maybe you could be our new foster parents,” Jamie said, then sighed. “I guess that won’t work, though, will it?”

  Now there was a solution she hadn’t considered. She could just imagine Michael’s reaction to such a suggestion. Once he stopped laughing, the answer would be a resounding no. He didn’t have time to fit a wife into his life, much less two boys.

  “No,” Grace said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Couldn’t you be our foster mom, though?” Josh asked hopefully.

  The very same idea had occurred to her more than once in the past forty-eight hours, but Grace had dismissed it as illogical and impractical. A pipe dream.

  But was it? She was as qualified as anyone. She had the financial resources. She already cared deeply for the two of them.

  She sighed. She also had a one-bedroom apartment and a demanding law career. How could she possibly bring two young boys into her life and give them the time and attention they needed? And it wasn’t as if she could walk into the courthouse, make the offer and walk out with them. There were background checks and mounds of paperwork involved.

  As her mental debate raged on, the boys watched her intently, clearly sensing that she was actually struggling with their suggestion.

  “So, what do you think?” Jamie finally dared to ask.

  “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “This is a very complicated situation.” Probably more so, precisely because she had kept them here, rather than turning them in immediately. The court would probably view that as blatant evidence that she had no regard at all for the regulations governing foster care.

  “We’d be really good,” Josh promised.

  “Yeah, we wouldn’t give you any problems. No more running away or nothing,” Jamie vowed. “And we can help around the house and stuff, do a lot of chores like taking out the trash.”

  “I’m sure you’d be a wonderful help, but I just don’t know. There are a lot of things to consider before making a commitment like that.”

  “It’s because there are two of us, isn’t it?” Jamie said, sounding defeated. “If that’s it, take Josh. I’ll go someplace else.”

  “Absolutely not,” Grace said at once. “You’re not going to be separated again. I’m going to see to that, no matter what.” She game Jamie’s shoulder a squeeze. “Let me give this some more thought, okay? I’m not ruling it out, but I’m not saying yes either.”

  “Think really, really hard,” Josh pleaded. “We need you, Grace.”

  Jamie’s gaze locked on hers, regarding her with an understanding that was wise beyond his years. Then he turned to Josh. “Stop bugging her, okay? Let her think.”

  “Think about what?” Michael asked, walking into the kitchen in jeans and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the collar open. His hair was still damp from a shower.

  Grace’s heart skipped a beat as the vivid memory of several steamy, shared showers rushed back. It had been six years and she hadn’t been able to shake the way the man made her feel with just a glance. She could all but feel his hands on her body, feel him deep inside her. The memory alone was enough to make her cheeks burn.

  Right now, though, he was a threat to this make-believe family of hers. He wanted to tear the four of them apart with what he viewed as a necessary phone call. And even though she knew in her head that he was right, in her heart she suspected she might wind up hating him for it.

  “Okay, everybody, eat up,” she said as she placed plates of waffles and bacon on the table. “As soon as we’ve finished breakfast, we’re going into town.”

  She regarded Michael with a touch of defiance as she said it, daring him to contradict her announcement.

  “We’ll get Josh’s new boots, maybe do a little shopping, then have lunch,” she added for good measure. “I vote for pizza. How about the rest of you?”

  “All right!” Josh enthused.

  “Pizza’s okay by me, too,” Jamie responded.

  Grace met Michael’s gaze. “And you? Any objections?”

  “Not a one,” he said, regarding her with a look that spoke volumes.

  It was evident he intended to keep silent about any real objections until they were alone. Grace just had to make sure that didn’t happen. She didn’t need another well-intentioned lecture. She had a few more hours at most with Jamie and Josh. She wasn’t going to have them spoiled by nagging reminders that time was running out.

  She actually managed to avoid being alone with Michael until after they got into Los Piños. As Jamie and Josh raced ahead to the shop where she had bought the cowboy boots, Michael clasped her arm in a firm grip and held her back.

  “This is a temporary reprieve, because you made him a promise, understood?”

  She frowned at his commanding tone. “This is not your decision to make,” she retorted.

  “Maybe not entirely,” he agreed. “But I’ve made it, because I don’t think you can.”

  “And the rest of us just have to live with it, is that it? This isn’t Delacourt Oil, Michael. You’re not the boss. We’re equal partners,” she declared, then added pointedly, “All four of us.”

  He regarded her with evident frustration. “You can’t expect Jamie and Josh to know what’s in their best interests.”

  “And you do?” she retorted. “Mr. No-time-for-anything-that-isn’t-business? Who made you an expert in child-rearing? My hunch is you don’t even spend any time with your niece and nephews, except maybe holidays.”

  His pained expression told her she’d gotten it exactly ri
ght.

  “Okay, Grace, maybe I’m not a dad, maybe I’m not even the most involved uncle in the world, but I can spot a disaster when it’s just waiting to happen. We’ve got to settle this today. Those boys are getting too attached to you and you to them. It’s not good.”

  She knew he was right and, as she’d anticipated, she despised him for it. “Fine. You make that call whenever you decide it’s right. I’m going to get those boots for Josh.”

  She jerked out of his grasp and stalked down the block. Of course, he caught up with her before she reached the store.

  “Sweetheart, I’m not the bad guy here.”

  “Couldn’t prove it by me,” she said.

  “Do you think I want those boys to go back to the kind of lives they were living? Do you think I can’t see how awful it was for them to be separated? Hell, I think about something like that happening to me, Tyler, Dylan and Jeb and I can’t even imagine it.”

  “Then help me to do something,” she pleaded, gazing up at him. “Don’t make that call until we have a real plan, one that nobody with any sense of decency can challenge.”

  Michael raked a hand through his hair, his expression torn. “Grace—”

  Sensing that he was weakening, she made one more plea. “Please. I’ve never begged for anything from you before, Michael, but I’m begging now. Not for myself, for Jamie and Josh. They deserve a real chance, a real family.”

  He visibly struggled with her request. “We’ll make that plan this afternoon, though, right? No more putting it off?”

  “I swear it,” she said. “The four of us will sit down and think of something as soon as we get back to the ranch.”

  “No,” he corrected. “You and I will make the decision. Then we’ll sell it to the boys together. Deal?”

  She had a feeling it was the best she was going to get. “Deal,” she agreed.

  She started to move away, but Michael snagged her hand again. “Grace?”

  She lifted her gaze to his.

  “I love it that you care so much.”

  She sighed. She couldn’t help wondering what he’d say if he knew that over the last two days she’d realized that she cared just as much about him.

  Chapter Nine

  At the Italian restaurant, Josh could barely sit still. He kept poking his feet out to stare at his new boots. Then he’d get up and clomp around the table, trying to imitate the rolling gait of a cowboy. Apparently he’d watched a lot of westerns, since as far as Michael knew he’d never met any real cowboy besides Slade and Slade walked with a limp thanks to a tragic accident that had cost him his rodeo career and almost his life.

  “I think he likes the boots,” Grace noted.

  “What was your first clue?” Michael responded, chuckling.

  “He’s acting like a jerk,” Jamie declared with adolescent disdain. “They’re just shoes.”

  Michael exchanged an amused look with Grace, then regarded Jamie intently. “Guess that means you’d rather we’d gotten you something else, instead of letting you keep the boots that were too big for Josh.”

  Jamie squirmed uncomfortably. “Nah, they’re cool.”

  “Then let’s not make fun of your brother,” Michael chided.

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  Grace grinned at Jamie. “There’s one advantage to Josh being away from the table,” she leaned over to confide.

  “What?”

  “More pizza for you.”

  Jamie’s expression brightened. “Hey, yeah. Gimme that last piece.” He was already reaching for it, when he thought better of it. He glanced at Michael. “You want it?”

  “No, but you might check with Grace.”

  “It was her idea for me to take it.”

  “Ask anyway. It’s only polite.”

  Jamie rolled his eyes, but he dutifully turned to Grace. “You want another piece of pizza?”

  “No, it’s all yours.”

  Jamie shot a triumphant look at Michael. “Told you so,” he said, grabbing the piece and taking a huge bite out of it to stake his claim.

  As soon as he’d wolfed down the pizza, he went off to join Josh, who was watching some kids play the video games at the back of the restaurant. In minutes, he was back again.

  “Could we have some quarters to play?” he asked. “We’ll do extra work at the ranch to earn them.”

  Michael was impressed with Jamie’s willingness to work for the money. The kid had learned a lot of lessons, either from the foster parents he claimed to disdain or from his struggles to make it on his own whenever he came for Josh. He took nothing for granted. He expected to work for whatever he got.

  Michael handed him a couple of dollars. “Ask them to change them for you at the register,” he said. “Consider it payment for the work you’ve already done feeding the horses.”

  “Thanks,” Jamie said.

  “Those kids are so eager to please,” Michael said. “How could they have given their foster parents so much trouble?”

  “Maybe we’re seeing another side of them just because they’re so grateful to be together,” Grace suggested.

  “You ever see a kid who could pull off a charade like this for more than a few minutes at a time? These are good kids, Grace.”

  “I’m not about to argue with you. I think they’re terrific. But maybe we’re seeing them at their best, because they see us as their last chance,” Grace said quietly.

  Michael didn’t know what to say to that. But he did know a lot about last chances. If this was the last one he was going to have with Grace, then he was going to have to make the most of it. He glanced at her, saw the wistful way she was staring at Jamie and Josh.

  What was she hoping for, really? Did she merely want to find them a home where they could be together? Would she be satisfied with that? Or was she imagining providing a home for them herself?

  He thought about the latter and had the oddest feeling that his own expression was probably every bit as wistful as hers. Was he beginning to want the same thing? Not just Grace, Jamie and Josh as a family, but with himself in the picture, too? He wanted Grace back in his life, but did he want the rest? Marriage? A family? Was he truly ready to make the necessary changes in his lifestyle?

  The pitiful truth was that his work habits were as ingrained as breathing. His days were crowded from morning to night. Was that because he liked it that way, because it had to be that way? Or because he didn’t have anything else he cared about as deeply?

  And how the hell was he supposed to figure out the answer in the next couple of hours? Suddenly he regretted setting a deadline, but he knew he couldn’t back off now. That deadline was as right now as it had been when he’d insisted on it.

  That didn’t mean he couldn’t nudge it back just a little.

  “Hey, Josh, Jamie,” he called, drawing a worried look from Grace. “How about going down to Dolan’s for ice cream?”

  “Hot fudge sundaes?” Josh asked eagerly.

  “You bet,” Michael agreed. “Grace? Is that okay with you?”

  As if she understood that he was offering more than scoops of ice cream, her frown faded and a smile spread slowly across her face. “Have you ever known me to turn down a hot fudge sundae?”

  “Now that you mention it, no. It was the one way I always knew I could lure you away from your law books.”

  “Not the only way,” she teased with a surprising glint in her eyes.

  Michael recalled the other way all too clearly. “Maybe we’d better stick to the G-rated method for now, though I am definitely up for the alternative anytime you give the word.”

  “Is that so?” she asked with amusement.

  “Oh, yes,” he said fervently. “Try me.”

  “Maybe I will,” she said thoughtfully.

  Jamie and Josh scowled at them. “Are you two coming or not?”

  “We’re coming,” Grace said, sashaying past Michael with a provocative sway to her hips.

  He shook his head as he enjoyed the v
iew. The woman was definitely dangerous. In the last few minutes he had not only tossed aside his common sense where those kids were concerned, he was about to invite Grace Foster back into his bed, back into his life. He wasn’t sure which of them would be in more trouble if she said yes.

  Grace wondered how smart it had been to come to Dolan’s when she saw Sharon Lynn’s eyes light up with fascination the instant they walked in the door. She had a hunch they were about to be treated to a display of the famed Adams meddling.

  “Well, well, well, who do we have here?” she asked, her gaze traveling from Grace to Michael to the boys and back. She eventually settled on Michael. “You must be Trish’s brother. I can see the family resemblance, even though I barely caught a glimpse of you at Dylan’s wedding.”

  “Guilty,” he agreed. “Michael Delacourt.”

  “And I’m Sharon Lynn Branson.”

  “She’s an Adams,” Grace inserted pointedly, just so Michael would know what they were dealing with. It was apparent from his expression that he got the message.

  “I’ve heard about you,” he told Sharon Lynn.

  “Oh, I’ll just bet you have,” she said, laughing. “Stories about this family tend to get around.”

  “I was thinking of the way you helped Trish with her grand opening. She said it was wildly successful because of you and your family.”

  “We were just being neighborly,” Sharon Lynn insisted, her gaze shifting to the boys. “Now, then, I know Michael and I’ve met Grace, but who are you two handsome boys?”

  Again, Grace was quick to step in. “This is Josh and this is Jamie. They’re visiting us.”

  “Oh, really?” she said. “Nice to meet you, Josh and Jamie.”

  Grace had the feeling from Sharon Lynn’s vaguely curious expression that she wanted to say a lot more, but about that time a toddler crept into view from behind the counter. As if she were satisfied that her mother’s attention was elsewhere, she took off toward a shelf full of first aid supplies. Before anyone could react, she had tumbled boxes of bandages on the floor and was trying to get into one of them.