Written in the Stars (20 page)

“Then, go for it.”

“Ha, I've never been good at following my own advice.”

“But you've never followed rules either.”

Becca smiled. “Ah, so true,” she said, but then her smile faltered.

“What, Mum?”

“There's something in his past that he's not telling me. Something that caused pain, I'm afraid.”

“Ask him. Whatever it is, you need to know before you can go forward.”

“I did. I suppose he will tell me when the time is right.” She looked at Grace. “Now back to you.”

“After that bombshell?” Grace heard her phone ring and knew it was going to be Mason. She was right. She silenced her ringtone.

“Mason?”

“Yes.” She almost smiled.

“Are you going to answer him?”

“I'm going to ignore him and give him the cold shoulder at the tasting party.”

“And what good can that do for anybody, you included? Some sort of misguided satisfaction? What if he says he's sorry and has been a wanker?”

Grace laughed. “He won't say wanker.”

“Jackass.”

“Douche bag.”

“Oh how horrid.” Becca grimaced. “Okay—­well?”

“I'd cave in, of course. Why do you think I've been avoiding him for the past couple of hours?”

“You need to be at the event, Gracie.”

“Um, yeah, and maybe he should realize the hard way that I need to be there.”

“He already knows that, darling. This isn't about him wanting you to stay. That's a given. This is about you thinking that you need to leave.”

“I don't think it. I know it. What's that old saying about a zebra not being able to change its stripes, or something like that?”

“Oh, that silly saying doesn't hold water with me. Love changes things, Gracie. I know you're thinking of me and Rick and me and your father. Funny, but I used to view those marriages as failures, but they were part of my journey.” She tapped her chest. “Part of what made me who I am right now. I don't have regrets, really. Changing the past would mean I wouldn't have my three lovely children and my adorable Lily.”

“Did you love Rick?”

She looked off into the distance for a moment. “Madly.”

“So what went wrong?”

“I resented his absence. I guess you could say that I was jealous of his music. Perhaps if I'd gone on the road with him like he asked, he wouldn't have gotten out of control and he would have bonded with Garret early on. I didn't say that I didn't make mistakes. We all do. But I don't have regrets. Does that make sense? Besides, we can't change the past anyway, so what good does it do to dwell upon it?”

“You're right.” Grace nodded. “What about Dad? Did you love him?”

“Oh, I thought so. Marcus was so very different from Rick, and I suppose that was the initial attraction. Instead of a wild rocker, I had a buttoned-­up businessman. But as you know, your father loved making money more than spending time with his family. Pity, really. He's missed out on a lot. I just don't think he was meant to settle down. Marcus does love you and Sophia in his own way. And Garret too, really. He just doesn't know how to be a father. We grew apart early on and stayed together out of...convenience, I suppose.”

Grace felt icy fingers of fear slide down her back. “Sometimes I'm afraid I'm like him.”

“You've never worshipped money, darling. Far from it.”

“But what if I can't settle down?”

“Maybe you need to give yourself the chance to find out.”

“And break Mason's heart in the process?”

“It sounds like it's a risk he's willing to take. Now, get down there and have fun. I'm going to watch Lily so that Miranda can attend her son's big night. Are you okay with that?” she asked, and stood up.

“Of course.” Grace pushed her chair back and gave her mother a hug. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you, Gracie. And I am also so very proud of you. Not just of your achievements, but of the lovely person you've become. I'll be here for you, whatever you decide.”

“I always know that I can count on you.” She tilted her head and chuckled.

“What?”

“Wouldn't it just be something if we all ended up living in a small town in Kentucky?”

Becca tossed her head back and laughed. “Yes, indeed, it certainly would. And it's charming here. Now, go meet your prince at the witches' ball.”

“Oh, I don't plan on making it easy on him. If he wants me, he's going to have to work really hard.”

“That's okay. Makeup sex is the best.”

“Mum! I can't believe you just said that.”

“Well, you know what? Maybe I'm a bit tired of being so prim and proper. I think I'll buy me some cowboy boots, let my hair down, and live a little.”

“You're a grandma now.”

“All the more reason. I'm not going to live forever.”

“Mum!”

“Will you quit saying that like I'm some kind of loony toon?”

“Then stop talking about sex and dying.” Grace stuck her fingers in her ears.

Becca laughed. “It's so fun getting you riled up.”

“Why does everyone say that?” she sputtered, but then laughed. “I don't have answers for this crazy life of mine. But you've made me feel much better.”

Becca cupped Grace's cheeks. “It was easy when you all were children and I could fix things with a lollipop and a hug.”

Grace kissed her mum's cheek. “You're here and that's enough, but I'll never turn down a lollipop or a hug. Okay, I'm off to the party. Wish me luck.”

“Somehow, I don't think you'll need it, but good luck anyway.”

Grace blew her mother a kiss over her shoulder and gave her one last smile, but her heart skipped a beat as she walked over to her car. After all of her boasting about how tonight's event would be the talk of the town, she'd have egg on her face if Broomstick Brewery flopped.

After starting the engine, she squeezed the steering wheel for a moment, and then put the car in drive. Well, she was about to find out.

Shameless

A
LL
NIGHT
LONG
AT
THE
PARTY
,
G
R
ACE
KEPT
SLIPPING
away from Mason like quicksilver, almost as if she had some sort of superpower. Every damned time he got within arm's length of her, she managed to elude him, and he damned well knew it was on purpose. Mason tried catching her eye, called her phone, and at one desperate point considered following her into the ladies' room. He stopped when he got an odd look from a patron and gazed at the witch's sign on the door as if in surprise. “That was close,” he said, and walked across the hallway to the warlocks.

And of course Grace looked gorgeous...no, stunning, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by every male in the room. Mason wanted to drape his arm around her shoulders and stake his claim, but that was damned difficult when he couldn't get close to her.

Laughter and music filled the taproom. Mattie's food complemented the ales, which flowed from the taps as fast as Danny, Colby, and Avery could pour. The tasting by any standard was a huge success, and Mason and Grace should have been sharing this success together. Why he had the meltdown earlier had him so pissed off at himself that he could hardly see straight, and it had nothing to do with the ale he'd consumed.

After only a couple of hours into the night, the gift shop shelves were sold out and just about every woman in the room wore one of the witches' hats. About one million selfies were taken of witches riding the broomsticks parked outside. There was no doubt that the theme captured the festive feel that Grace was aiming for—­and there was no doubt that without it, not nearly as many women would be in attendance.

Grace knew her stuff.

Mason almost pinned Grace down while she chatted with Trish Marino for the newspaper article, but just as he approached, Grace excused herself and headed outside. Trish grabbed him and asked a slew of questions. He hoped he sounded somewhat intelligent, because his mind sure was elsewhere. He was eager to get outside and resume his search for his elusive girlfriend, and when he found her, he planned to pull her into his arms and tell her what a fool he'd been.

Mason weaved his way through the crowd. Once again, Grace seemed to disappear, and of course the whole witch's hat thing made it difficult for him to locate her. Every couple of steps someone stopped him and raved over the ales, the food, and the fun atmosphere. Nice, thank you very much, but he was on a mission.

Ah, Mason finally spotted Grace by the bonfire listening to Shane McCray play an acoustic set, much to the delight of the crowd. Laura Lee, his wife of just a few months, watched with adoring eyes, and Mason had to smile in spite of himself. He stood there for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts, knowing Gracie would stay put at least until the end of the song.

“What's that frown all about, Mason? Tonight is your big night.”

Mason turned from looking across the lawn at Gracie and spotted Jimmy Topmiller at his side. Mason lifted one shoulder, but when he heard Gracie's laughter, he turned his head in her direction.

“You need some help with the right bait?” Jimmy asked with a little nudge of his elbow into Mason's ribs.

“I'm not fishin' at the moment, Jimmy.”

“Oh, son, you're fishin', just not catchin'.”

“I'm not sure I follow.”

“I haven't seen you and Grace together all night long.” Jimmy rocked back on his boots and grinned. “It's been my experience that when you want a woman to take notice, all you gotta do is make her jealous,” Jimmy said, capturing Mason's full attention. “So toss some bait into the water and reel Grace Gordon in.”

“Are you kiddin'? I'm already in the damned doghouse. Somehow, I don't think that angle will fly,” Mason said. “But I'm listening, because at this point I'm desperate. So shoot.”

Jimmy jammed his thumb over his shoulder. “Just march over to those witch wannabes close to where Grace is standing and let the flirting begin.”

“Ah, flirting with other women doesn't seem like a good tactic,” Mason said, but at this point he really was willing to try anything. Anything at all. “Shameless” started playing in his head. One thing he knew for sure. He didn't want to lose Grace before getting the chance to have her in his life. The emptiness he felt after she walked out of the brewery wasn't something he thought he could stand, and it scared the shit out of him.

“They will flirt their cute asses off with you. When women drink, they flirt. It just happens like magic. And let me tell you, that craft beer of yours will do the trick. About this time of night, the beer goggles go on. Hell, they'd even flirt with Bubba Brown. A pretty boy like you is a shoo-­in.”

Mason had to chuckle. “You tell it like it is, Jimmy.”

“Yep, I've always been a straight shooter. Now, head over there and let them do the work for you. And you can be completely innocent. Oh, and flash that smile you like to keep in reserve.”

“Seriously?” Mason looked at Jimmy, who seemed pretty confident. “So you think this will work?”

“Like a charm.”

“If it doesn't, I'm gonna hunt you down like a dog.”

Jimmy laughed. “Well, let me know how it turns out for you. I'm gonna go help Becca babysit little Lily.”

Mason was taken off guard. “Really, Jimmy? You and Becca seein' each other seriously?”

Jimmy scuffed the toe of his boot across the grass. “Casual. We get a kick out of getting on each other's nerves,” Jimmy answered, but Mason got the distinct impression his feelings went deeper than he was willing to admit. Jimmy clamped his hand on Mason's shoulder and gave him a little shove. “Come on, a supermodel and an old fisherman like me?”

“Old fisherman? You mean world-­class pro angler? You were my idol and Danny says you still have the golden touch.”

“Would ya quit makin' me feel so damned old?”

“You're seeing a supermodel. 'Nuf said.”

“Naw.” Jimmy shrugged. “As I said, we like to bust each other's chops. Besides, won't Grace, Sophia, and Becca be leaving Cricket Creek at some point anyway?” While Jimmy's tone remained casual, his gaze sharpened, making Mason wonder if Jimmy had the same fear that he did.

“Well, unless we give 'em a reason to stay, like Danny keeps preaching to me.”

“Smart guy, your brother.”

“That's what he keeps telling me. But maybe easier said than done.”

Jimmy shrugged again. “Best get on over there before Shane is done singing and the group of witches heads back inside for more Black Magic. And they've already had quite a few, judging by how loud they're getting.”

Mason swallowed hard. “Okay, here goes nothin'.” He walked over to the group of women and gave them what he hoped was a winning smile. “Evenin', ladies. I'm Mason Mayfield, brewmaster. Hope you're enjoying Broomstick Brewery.”

“Such a clever idea!” said a wavy-­haired redhead as she pulled him to the side. “And I just love the names of the ales. I'm Mary, and you could be my master anytime you like,” she said in what sounded like maybe a New York accent.

Mason decided to ignore the suggestive part of her comment. “Why, thank you. Looks like you're having a sample of Black Magic, the chocolate porter. What do you think?”

Mary took another step closer and tilted her head up. “Oh, it's to die for. Chocolate and beer together? I daresay that I'm in heaven.” She batted her eyes at him.

“You don't sound like you're from Cricket Creek, Mary,” he said, trying to be polite. Was Gracie watching? How did he look without being obvious?

“I'm originally from New York.” She waved a hand. “Up from Florida for a visit with friends.”

“Ah, well, welcome to Broomstick Brewery, Mary. And who are your friends?” he asked, and noticed that they didn't seem too happy about not being part of the conversation.

“My friends?”

“Over there.”

“Oh, them.” Mary seemed reluctant to share him, but waved a hand in their general direction and they immediately came over. “Patsy, Deb, Cathy, Jen, Patricia, and Teresa. There, now you know. Who needs them when you have me?” Mary grabbed Mason's arm and steered him away, but Jen stepped forward and nudged Mary out of the way. Mary shot her a glare, and Mason suddenly felt as if he were on
The Bachelor
and a catfight was about to begin.

“I'm Jen,” she said, leaning forward to show off her low-­cut blouse. Mason blinked, trying to keep his eyes on her face. He suddenly had a feeling this was going way wrong. Another witch stepped forward. Dear God...

“I'm Patricia,” she said with a flip of her hair, but she was immediately shoved away by a blonde with attitude.

“I'm Deb. What do you say we go for a little walk?” She shot Patricia a look and got a don't-­try-­it arch of an eyebrow in return. Mary looked ready to start something, but when she made a move toward him, another woman asserted herself.

“Cathy,” said another blonde, and stuck out her hand. “Don't mind them. They're a bit out of control tonight.” She pointed to the sky. “Full moon gets the witches a little bit riled up, right, Teresa?”

Teresa nodded. “I'm afraid so. But thank you for naming the brewery for us.”

“I...uh...” Mason blinked at them. Were they trying to say that they really were witches or just joking? He decided to go with joking.

“Hey,” the one named Mary said, and raised her glass. “I'm empty. Mason, my handsome master, will you buy me another?”

“Brewmaster,” he corrected.

Cathy laughed at her friends, but Teresa appeared a bit disgusted and stomped away, mumbling something under her breath. Jen stepped closer, and when it looked as if Mary was going to give her a good shove, Mason decided it was time to take his leave. So much for Jimmy's grand plan. These women were crazy.

“Well, ladies, thanks again for coming to the party. Our ales will be on tap at several restaurants around town and at Walking on Sunshine Bistro soon.”

“Oh, I know,” Jen said. “I already liked your Facebook page. I'll be back on a regular basis for sure,” she said with a suggestive smile.

Mason nodded and took a step backward, but he suddenly noticed that they had circled around him and he was trapped. “I, uh, think I hear my mother callin',” he said, and jabbed his thumb over his shoulder.

“Mason!”

Escape! Thank God.
“Mom!” Mason smiled at his mother, never so glad to see someone in his life.

“I've been trying to track you down all night long!”

“Well, now is a good time. I was...trapped.”

“I could see that. And Grace was shooting daggers their way.”

Mason's mood lightened. “Really?” He grinned.

Miranda frowned. “Wait—­was that your intention?”

Mason took his mother's hand. “Come take a walk with me.”

A couple of minutes later, they were down by the riverside, where it was quiet enough to talk without anyone hearing what he had to say to his mother.

“So, what's up, Mason? You and Grace having problems?” She squeezed his hand and then turned to look at him.

Mason picked up a rock and tossed into the water. “I gave her a rough time earlier about the whole witches theme.”

“Well, judging from tonight's crowd, the brewery is going to be a huge success. I mean, I know it's just a party, but of course I listened to what people were saying, and they loved the different ales, Mason. Who knew when you started home brewing that it would turn into this?” She waved a hand in the direction of the brewery. She gave him a smile that trembled at the corners. “I know that you went through a tough time when you left the tour and came back home to help out at the marina.”

“I was glad that I did.”

“You gave up your dream.”

Mason wrapped his arm around his mother's shoulders and gave her a hug. “I'll admit that when I failed at a comeback, I was feeling pretty low for a while. And as much as Lauren was wrong for what she did, I was damned hard to live with after that.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Mom, I like living back here in Cricket Creek at the marina. The tour is a grind. I missed everyone, and if I hadn't come back when I was needed here, I would never have forgiven myself. And I love the art of brewing beer.”

“And you would never have met Grace.”

“Mom, Gracie will eventually go back to London...or somewhere. She said that she can't stay tied down and needs challenges. She made that clear from the beginning.”

“And that didn't stop you from falling in love with her.”

“You can tell?”

“Absolutely. Ah, Mason, you were always so quiet and serious, but I can read your emotions in your eyes, and I do believe you adore her. Am I right?”

“I sure as hell fought it, but you're right on the money. I've fallen for her. But that doesn't mean it can work out. I just have to soak up the time I have with her before she goes on her way. No matter what happens between us, I'm still glad that I met her. Grace opened my eyes to the fact that I do want someone in my life.”

Miranda shook her head. “See, your eyes just went all stormy. I can tell even in the moonlight. Not
someone
. You want Grace.”

Mason reached down and picked up another rock. “I know that, Mom.” He skipped the rock across the water, and then turned back to his mother again. “You're gonna think this is kinda odd, but remember when Aunt Martha died and we had to take care of her pet parakeet?”

“Yes.”

“I always felt sorry for that danged bird being stuck in a cage.”

“Oh, Mason, I know where you're going with this.”

“Mama, the last thing I want to do is hold Gracie back.”