The Brightest Light of Sunshine

I’ve never taken a knife to the gut, but I suppose it feels a lot like seeing Grace cry.

Having a baby sister, I’m no stranger to tears. I don’t feel awkward when someone breaks down in front of me, but the sight of her tears hurts all the same. I can only sit still and feel my chest tighten as Grace sobs quietly with her face turned to the car window, probably thinking I won’t notice her breakdown that way.

“Grace,” I call out gently. The last thing I want is to upset her any further, but I need her to calm down. “Look at me. You’re okay.”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m not. I’m broken.”

The only thing that is about to be broken is my damn heart. “Why would you say that?”

“Because.” She sniffles.

The distant sound of music from the party drifts over to the inside of the car. Something or someone inside that frat house upset her, so I figure the first step towards calming her nerves would be to put some distance. A quick glance at her tells me her seatbelt isn’t on. “Come on, Gracie, I’ll take you home. Buckle up,” I say, hoping the nickname boosts her mood.

Without a word, she does as I say. It’s evident how badly she wants to get out of here. However, not long after I start the car and take a few turns, Grace speaks again, “I don’t want to go home.”

I steal a quick glance at her. She isn’t hiding her face anymore, and her eyes are swollen from all the tears. “Where do you want to go, then?”

Another sniffle. “I’m a bit hungry.”

“Got you.”

Mentally crossing my fingers so that the place I’m thinking of is still open, I turn the car down the next street. Grace sits in silence besides me, not quite crying anymore but still shaken up. My body aches to kill the engine right here in the middle of this dark street and pull her into a hug, but deep down I know that would be a mistake. I’m not sure she wants to be touched right now.

“Where are we?” she asks after a while, her voice strained.

I pull into the almost empty parking lot and point to the food truck a few feet away. “Over there. Fancy some vegan junk food?”

Grace narrows her eyes towards the vehicle and chuckles. The soft sound makes my heart do something funny. “Are you vegan?”

I mimic her smile. “No, but I appreciate all kinds of good food. Let’s go.”

Once she gets out of the car and we walk together to the food truck, I allow myself to look at the dry tears on her cheeks and the puffiness of her eyes. She’s calmer now, and I can only hope she’ll feel better after a full stomach.

“What do you want to get?” I ask her as she scans the menu, which is plastered on one of the truck’s windows. “I’ve tried all the burgers and they’re incredible. Tastes just like meat.”

“Mm-hmm. Okay. I’ll trust you on this one.” She turns to the woman inside the truck. “Can I get a double cheeseburger, please?”

“And two hot dogs. Do you want water?” I ask Grace. She nods. “And two bottles of water, please.”

I take my wallet out of my back pocket to pay for our food when I feel Grace’s surprisingly firm grip on my wrist. “Nope. Put that away.” She glares at me with such fierceness I can only stare at her in awe. “You’ve done enough for me tonight.”

“Grace, I really don’t mind.”

“Well, I do,” she states firmly. “Put that back in your pocket or I’m throwing it across the parking lot.”

I chuckle at the mental image of sweet little Grace with her short arm tossing my wallet like a football. “Fine. No need to go through with your threats.”

She gives me a proud smile as she takes her own purse and pays for the burger, hot dogs and two drinks. Luckily—because I hate eating in the damn car—there’s an available picnic table right next to the truck.

Only then do I allow myself to take in what she’s wearing. Just for a second, my eyes scan that tight black dress. It’s not particularly low-cut, but the slit happening along one of her legs is enough to send my mind into overdrive.

No. Get a fucking grip.

I avert my gaze because I know it makes her uncomfortable, yet my head still pictures her beautiful, soft features. Anyone who says Grace isn’t stunning would be lying out of their asses. Blonde hair; observant, big eyes, and plump lips. However, it’s the way she lights up a room by simply walking in that makes my heart do fucking cartwheels inside my chest at the thought of her.

And I can’t stomach, not for a single second, the fact that she’s just been crying her eyes out in my car. I don’t want to bring it up, but I’m also not going home without an explanation.

“Hey,” I start in the gentlest tone I can manage, just to get her attention. “What happened at the party? Did someone upset you?”

To my surprise, she doesn’t dismiss the conversation. “You could say that,” she whispers, biting down on her lower lip.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” She sighs. “But I guess you deserve to know.”

“You don’t have to tell me—”

“The guy I went to the party with only invited me to hook up with me,” she blurts out. The captive beast within me starts to roar, fighting to be set free from its cage. “I mean, I suspected he was interested in me, but… I don’t know. He got really drunk and forgot I was there at all. Then he tried to take me upstairs and… Yeah. Not my best night.”

The beast tears up the bars of the cage one by one, melting them into a pool of wrath. “Did he force himself on you?”

I don’t know who this fucker is, and I’ve never been a violent man, but snapping someone’s neck sounds way too appealing right about now.

“No,” she says quickly. “I promise he didn’t. I stormed out the second he suggested going upstairs.”

“Good.” My anger is nowhere near disappearing, though. Knowing some stupid fucker is the reason she left a party to cry her eyes out in my car is enough to make me see red.

Her small hand reaches out to touch mine. My eyes lock on those delicate, gentle fingers on my tattooed skin and my breathing calms down. “Cal,” she starts, then promptly stops. “Wait. Can I call you Cal?”

I snort. “Why couldn’t you?”

It’s so dark outside that I can’t quite see if she’s blushing, but my bet would be yes.

“I don’t know. I thought maybe only your friends called you that,” she says with a hint of shyness.

I close my much thicker fingers around hers and squeeze before letting go of her hand completely. “Grace, we are friends.”

She blinks. “We are?”

“Of course we are. Call me whatever you want.”

The moment that mischievous gleam shines in her eyes, I know I’m in trouble. “Even Sammy?” she teases.

Rolling my eyes, I watch as that beautiful mouth curves into a wide grin. “Maddie thinks it sounds funny, so it stuck, but nobody else calls me that. Don’t push your luck, Gracie.”

“‘Gracie and Sammy’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” she muses out loud, pursing her lips in the most adorable way I’ve ever seen. “It sounds like the name of a low-budget rom-com that got canceled after one season.”

“Why a rom-com, though? Why not a show about two badass detectives or something?”

She glares at me with a serious look on her face. “Really, Cal? You think ‘badass detectives’ is the first thing that comes to mind when you hear Gracie and Sammy? Sounds more like a cartoon show to me.”

“Okay, so maybe you have a point.” My lips twitch. This girl. “We’ll settle for a trashy rom-com about two badass detectives, then.”

The sound of her laughter gets interrupted by the loud beeping of her phone’s ringtone. She takes one quick look at the screen, and her face pales. “Shit.”

“Who is it?” If it’s the fucker that upset her at the party, I swear to fucking—

“It’s Aaron.” She swallows. “I told him I was going out tonight, and I totally forgot to text him.”

“Well, pick it up.” A pissed-off Aaron is the last thing neither of us needs right now.

She’s quick to slide her finger on the screen to accept the call. “Hey, sorry I didn’t text you. I’m all right.” A pause. “No, I left. I’m fine. Cal’s here.”

At the sound of my name, my spine turns rigid. It’s not that I expect Aaron to beat me up for hanging out with his cousin, but I’ve got a little girl I worry about too—I know how he’s probably feeling right now. Like nobody is good enough to share her breathing space. I get it.

So when she puts her phone on speaker with panicked eyes, I make sure to stay calm. This is my friend, for fuck’s sake. And it’s not like my tongue was down Grace’s throat just a second ago.

Not that the mental picture is doing anything to help me out right now.

“Hey, man,” I say casually. “We’re at Monique’s Vegan Cookout. The food truck. Wanna come?”

“Nah. I’m beat,” he answers, but there’s a weird edge to his voice that I shouldn’t ignore. But I do because I’m a damn coward. “Everything all right over there?”

It’s Grace who answers a bit too briskly. “Yeah. I got tired and Cal was around, so he picked me up.”

“And you ended up at a vegan food truck,” Aaron says with a hint of suspicion.

Grace looks at me and grimaces. I shrug, not really knowing how to handle this side of him that is so new to me. An overprotective Aaron isn’t the kind of guy I’d like to deal with.

“I was hungry,” she opts for. “Do you want me to die of starvation, A?”

He snorts. “Fucking dramatic.” I can practically see him shake his head in my mind. “‘Kay. I’ll leave you to it. Text me when you get home, all right?”

“Okay, Dad.”

“So funny, G. You’re gonna be at the shop tomorrow, Cal?”

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Yeah.”

“Good.” And he doesn’t add anything else, which for some reason makes my skin prickle.

Thankfully, the woman at the truck calls my name at that exact moment to go pick up the food, and I bolt out of that bench as if it were on fire. I don’t hear what Grace tells her cousin and, by the time I’m back with our dinner, her phone is back inside her small bag.

“Wow. This looks amazing.” She beams at her burger as if she’s never seen one before tonight. I can’t hide my own smile at her excitement. “Want a bite?”

“Nah, I’ve had them before, but you must try the hot dogs. Here.”

I grab one between my fingers and hold it over to her side of the table. When she takes a bite, I have to peel my eyes off her mouth to avoid doing something stupid like keep thinking about her mouth.

“Oh my god.” She moans. That’s it. I’ve lost my fucking mind. “It’s so good.”

“I know, right?” I give her a smile that I hope doesn’t come out too weird. “They make the best vegan food in town.”

“I believe you now.” She nods eagerly, talking with her mouth full. She’s such a sight, eating a juicy hot dog in a tight black party dress with her immaculate skin and her slightly untamed blonde hair. I wish I could capture this moment forever, but I don’t think we’ve crossed the taking-pictures-of-each-other line just yet.

I’m a patient man, though. And I have the feeling that everything related to Grace Allen will be worth the wait.