Mended Hearts (New Beginnings Series) (20 page)

Maybe fifteen minutes later
, the door opened and a small woman wearing a short skirt and boots swung out . . . the long-haired man with the crutch following. He tucked her under his free arm and they moved toward the parking lot. He said something to her and she looked up at him, laughing, just as they passed under the streetlight. He first recognized her laugh—then he saw her face. It was his Gracie! What was she doing with this guy? Rob gulped in air—his breath ragged—as he watched them walk over to her car. She turned to lean back against it and raised her hands in front of her. The man pressed his palms to hers and they linked fingers, as he leaned into her. They were talking quietly—he couldn’t hear what they were saying. The man leaned fully against her, pressing her back into the side of her car. Letting go of her hands, he lifted his to cup her face and they kissed. Rob waited for her to push this stranger away, but she didn’t. She wrapped her arms around his middle and pulled him closer, continuing to make out with him.

Another group walked out of the bar and toward the lot. This must be the rest of the band. Some of them were carrying
guitar cases. He recognized the one in the beat up cowboy hat. It was a friend of Gracie’s from San Francisco. Rob had never liked him—what was his name—Cody . . . Colton . . . whatever. Hoots went up from a couple of the guys as they rounded the corner into the parking lot and saw Gracie with the stranger. He pulled back and said something to the band, and Cody . . . Colton . . . whatever . . . responded, causing all of them to laugh. It was obvious they were all well acquainted. Everyone went their separate ways, hopping into their cars. Gracie and crutch-boy said a few more words to one another, pecked each other good night, and he opened her door for her. She slid in, showing way too much leg, Rob thought, and crutch-boy shut the door. He stood and watched her pull out, Gracie blowing him a kiss as she did. Only then did he get in his truck.

Rob made a quick decision. He forced himself to pull out slowly, so as not to make anyone suspicious, and followed in the direction Gracie had driven. He’d catch up
with her when he was out of sight of anyone in the Savannah’s parking lot. He just wanted to see where she lived. Even though he had her address, he hadn’t staked it out yet. He hoped she wasn’t headed to crutch-boy’s place—or that
he
wouldn’t show up at hers.

He noticed she didn’t live far from the bar. She pulled up to a Spanish-style house, which had obviously been converted into apartments. He stopped halfway down the block, not wanting to drive past her and risk her seeing him.
Sure enough, she stepped out of the car, carefully locked it and walked up the short walk to the front door. She had to use a key to get into the building. He was happy to see it was a secure building for her safety, but disappointed too. What if he needed to get inside to lie in wait for her . . . if he couldn’t find another way to see her alone? He rubbed his forehead. He wouldn’t think about that right now. He really was ahead of the game, he thought. He knew where she worked and where she lived—and it was just his first day in town. He couldn’t rush it. This was too important.

Rob waited around for another fifteen or twenty minutes, but the long-haired stranger didn’t show up. That was something, at least. Rob couldn’t imagine Gracie picking up someone at a bar. But . . . he hadn’t seen her for a while. He knew he’d hurt her pride with his affairs, and maybe she’d just been blowing off steam. He couldn’t really blame her, he supposed. Once they were back together, though, she wouldn’t think about anyone else. She never had before.
He pulled out and headed back toward his budget motel. He would go ahead and sleep there tonight, but check out in the morning and find one closer to Gracie.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Friday night was hopping at Savannah’s again. Sonny and Charley showed up during the band’s first set and decided to make their way toward the stage end of the bar. As Sonny rounded the end closest to the door, he glanced up and saw a man, baseball cap pulled low over his eyes turned toward him. Sonny couldn’t see his eyes, but had the feeling the guy was watching him. Oh well . . . maybe he thought he knew Sonny or something. That happened all the time. He and Charley continued on their way, speaking to several regulars and employees as they went. One of the bouncers, Rocky—which was interestingly enough, not a nickname in honor of the tough boxer of film lore, but a shortened version of his given name, which was Rockwell—stopped Sonny with a shoulder-bump guy-hug. He knuckle-bumped Charley on his way past too. Sonny and Charley found stools at the far end of the bar, closest to the dance floor and stage and ordered beers.

Sonny was in high spirits. His shopping excursion with Kelli and Meg had gone well, and they found the perfect ring. At least that
was what the girls had called it—“perfect.” He could only take their word for it. The jeweler described it as an art deco crown solitaire setting with scrolls etched around the band. It was made of rose gold and he’d also gone ahead and purchased the matching band, with the same art deco scroll design etched around it. After coming by to see Gracie for a few minutes the night before, he’d gone home and spent hours staring at those rings . . . imagining sliding them on her finger. They would look beautiful on her delicate hands.

Charley was scoping out the girls, trying to decide if he should ask someone to dance. Sonny watched him for a minute. “Misty didn’t last too long, huh?”

“Nah. She went back to her old boyfriend . . . some guy named Duke . . . her personal trainer.”

“Sorry to hear that, dude,” Sonny said sympathetically.

“Oh, don’t be. Saved me the trouble of having to shake her loose,” Charley took a slug from his beer bottle. “She wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. My usual hints wouldn’t have worked on her. I might’ve had to get mean . . . and you know I hate that.”

They both turned their attention to the band. Sonny got caught up in the enjoyment of watching Gracie charm the entire room. She was looking particularly hot
tonight in a turquoise ruffled blouse, hanging over her hips with skinny jeans and bright pink peep-toed platforms with stacked stiletto heels. The neckline of the full blouse plunged, and her black camisole and multi-colored beaded necklace teased as the shirt gaped open occasionally. She was watching Sonny as she sang Sara Evans’
I Could Not Ask For More
. She really shouldn’t look at him that way in a crowded room like this, he thought. He got lost in her eyes, and felt like they were the only two people in the room. As the last note faded away, she kept watching him. The corners of his mouth tipped up and he winked at her, causing her to grin back at him. The spell finally broke as the band broke into one of Colby’s numbers—Marshall Tucker Band’s
Heard It In a Love Song
—featuring Les playing the flute solo parts on the steel guitar.

That was the last song of the set, and Gracie skipped over and threw her arms around Sonny’s neck. Charley looked insulted.

“Oh, sure! Sonny gets first hug,” he complained. “What about me, pretty girl? I just got dumped. No sympathy for
me
?”

Gracie laughed
, “Sure you did. Your heart looks completely shattered,” she said sarcastically. Then she leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek, keeping her arms around Sonny’s neck. He pulled her closer, between his knees and she turned around and leaned her back against him, as she continued chattering to Charley.

Sonny interrupted, “Angel, let me slide off this stool and you sit for awhile.”

She looked startled. “Why?”

He looked her up and down. “While
—as a red-blooded American man—I can appreciate what those heels do for you, your feet have got to be killing you. Or, at least they will be by the end of the night.” During his little speech, he had stepped back, grabbed her around the waist, lifted her up and plopped her on the stool. “Take a load off.”

She had squealed when he swept her off her feet and had everyone around them laughing.
Meg and Trace walked up about that time, followed by Tobi and her date, with Beth and Titus. Savannah walked up and leaned across the bar. “That table over there . . . they’re about to get up and leave. Come on over and I’ll clear it off for you.” So the group—except for Sonny—followed her over. He stayed with Gracie until it was time for her to start the next set, and then joined the others.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Rob had watched crutch-boy and some red-haired man walk through the bar like they owned the joint. It kind of reminded him of that old sitcom where everyone yelled, “Norm!” when the guy walked in. They seemed to know most everyone and most everyone seemed to know them. But, more than that, they seemed to be well respected. Rob’s waitress showed up at his elbow to see if he needed another beer.

“Sure, I’ll take another one
.” He jerked his head toward the two men just sitting down at the other end of the bar. “You know those guys?” he asked her.

“Dark-haired, dangerous-looking guy, and the one with red hair?” she asked.

Rob nodded.

“That’s Sonny and Charley. They’re Navy SEALs,” she said in a reverent voice. “Sonny is tight with Sugar Creek’
s lead singer.” She turned toward the order station halfway down the bar. “I’ll have that beer for you in a jiff.”

Navy SEALs. Rob didn’t know much about them, other than
the fact that the SEALs were legendary. He settled back to watch them—his stomach clenching as he watched Gracie sing that song to this Sonny guy. It appeared it might not be as simple as a bar pick up. After she left the stage and made a beeline for him, throwing her arms around him, Rob gritted his teeth. They were obviously very close.

The waitress showed up with his beer and he paid her.
He nodded toward the couple. “Hey, how long have they been together?” He couldn’t resist asking her, but when he saw the curious look on her face, he regretted it immediately.

“Why? Do you know her?” she asked.

Rob thought fast, trying to find a plausible story. “She used to date my best friend and I’m trying to figure out if she was cheating on him before the break up.” He winced inwardly. What if the waitress took the story back to Gracie? Would his cover be blown?

“Oh, no . . . not Gracie. She’s like a Girl Scout,” she laughed. “I think they met in
August or September, shortly after she started singing here.” She tucked his money into her apron. “They seem pretty serious,” she added.

“Did you say her name is Gracie?” Rob tried to look perplexed. “Oh, that’s not my friend’s ex. Her name was
Sophie.” He gave a little laugh. “They say everyone has a double, huh?” He looked back down the bar at Gracie as she squealed and giggled at Sonny lifting her onto the stool. “No, that’s not her. Sophie’s a little taller, with shorter hair. My mistake.”

As the waitress
chuckled and walked away, he hoped his story had been believable. He didn’t want her rushing over to Gracie asking about an ex-boyfriend she might have recently broken up with. He watched the girl for awhile, but she just continued to work her tables and the bar, never venturing close to Gracie. He noticed more of the new boyfriend’s friends had shown up and he moved over to join them at a table the bar owner herself had saved for them. No doubt about it, Gracie—and Sonny—had connections . . . at least here at Savannah’s.

CHAPTER 15

Sonny hung up the phone Saturday
evening and breathed a sigh of relief. He’d not spoken to Mr. and Mrs. Laurent
—“call us Phil and Kitty”—
since he moved away when he was fourteen. It was a nerve-wracking situation, calling them out of the blue to ask permission to marry their daughter . . . the daughter he’d been dating for less than two months. He’d wondered what kind of hoops he might have to jump through. He even considered calling and talking to Mathias first, but that seemed like a coward’s way out. So he manned up and made the call.

Gracie’s parents were aware that she’d been seeing him. And they liked how it had affected her. She seemed more like her old self . . . content and happy . . . bubbly, even.
They knew some of it had to do with her job singing at the bar. Music had always been a haven for her. But, Sonny was a big part of her happiness, and they couldn’t deny it.

When Sonny explained the reason for his call they were a little—
maybe a lot—stunned. Kitty, especially, worried about Gracie jumping into something too soon. She didn’t want to see her little girl hurt again. Phil pretty much interrogated Sonny, and if they’d been in the same room Sonny wouldn’t have been surprised to see him whip out a bare light bulb to hang over his head while he did it. All he could do was answer the questions as honestly as he could . . . he did have a dangerous job and yes, he was trying his hardest to recover enough to get back into the thick of things . . . if he did, yes she might have to spend a lot of time alone, but he’d make sure she had a good support system during those times . . . he’d take care of her to his dying breath . . . he
needed
her in his life . . . yes, he loved her and he really thought she loved him . . . he’d give her as big a family as she wanted, it would be up to her . . . he wouldn’t rush her into the marriage, but give her all the time she needed . . .

The questions had gone on and on, but finally
Phil had given his blessing and welcomed Sonny to the family. Not ten minutes after he hung up from talking to the Laurents—and halfway through the beer he’d needed after that grueling experience—his phone rang. He picked it up hoping it was a call he could ignore—no such luck. It was Mathias. It hadn’t taken long for the news to get to the other side of the country.