Grace hated the fact that she smiled. Hated it so much that she put Dameon on hold and went back to her brother.

“The guy was a complete douche. Stared at my chest and called me little lady. I need some backup on this one.”

“What the hell?” Dameon’s voice filled the line.

Grace pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. “Shit, shit, shit . . .” She switched the call again, put it to her ear. “Dameon?”

Her brother answered. “Who’s Dameon?”

She was going to lose it any second. “No one. Uhm . . . let me call you back.”

She dramatically pressed end to the call with her brother and put the phone back to her ear. “Forget I said that. It wasn’t meant for you.”

“Who were you calling for backup?”

Grace found herself answering on autopilot. “My brother.” She closed her eyes and shook the fog from her head.

“Okay . . . good.”

After blowing out a deep breath, Grace pulled in her emotions. “What can I do for you, Dameon?”

“You can start by telling me who was disrespecting you.”

“What are you going to do? Go beat him up?”

“Maybe.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and pounded her steering wheel with her free hand. “I’ll leave that to my brothers. But thank you.”

“Your brothers would do that for you?”

“Lots of cement boots in the bottom of the ocean,” she said, joking.

Dameon laughed. “All right, then. That makes me feel better.”

“You really don’t have any right to feel anything on the subject.” And she had no right to have butterflies tickling her stomach with the conversation.

“Yeah, well . . . I do.”

What did she do with that?

Ignore it.

“What can I do for you, Dameon?”

“I wanted to set up a site meeting to go over a few things before the holidays suck away all of your time.”

His request wasn’t out of line, even if his flirting was.

“When were you thinking?”

“Friday.”

“This Friday?”

“Unless you were free on Saturday. Then maybe we could have dinner and discuss the project.”

Grace was vaguely aware of the traffic whizzing by her car as she idled on the side of the road.

“I believe I have Friday afternoon free. I’ll have to confirm when I’m back in the office.”

Dameon sighed over the line. “Great. Have your people call my people and set it up.”

She laughed. “I work for the city, Dameon. I don’t have people.”

“Even better. You can call me back directly. Do you have a pen?”

“Why?”

“For my phone number.”

“I have your office number,” she told him.

“I’m leaving the office. I’ll give you my cell.”

She grabbed a pen and flipped open the notepad that sat in the passenger seat. “Fine.”

He rattled off his number.

“I’ll get back to you.”

There was a pause in the conversation. “Try and have a better day,” he said.

“I will.” She hung up and dropped her phone in her purse.

This day needed to turn around . . . fast.

CHAPTER SEVEN

It was potluck at the honeymooners’ house.

Grace walked in the door with a bottle of red wine and a grocery bag full of everything needed to make a walnut-cranberry salad.

She didn’t bother knocking since her parents’ car was parked in the driveway.

“Ho, ho, ho,” she greeted anyone within earshot.

She saw her brother first.

Colin kissed her cheek and took the bag from her hand. “You look better than you sounded earlier.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get me started.”

They walked around the corner to the great room that held a kitchen, a dining room, and a den. Her mom stood beside the sink cutting vegetables, and her dad was playing tug-of-war with Parker’s dog, Scout. “Hey, Dad,” Grace called out.

“Hold on,” he said. “I almost got him.”

From the determination on the dog’s face, her dad wasn’t getting anything. “Good luck.”

Her mom smiled and kept chopping. “Hi, sweetheart.”

Parker walked out of the master bedroom looking just as relaxed as Colin. “Someone got a tan,” Grace told her.

Parker lifted her arms and looked at them. “I almost feel guilty,” she said.

“I don’t,” Colin teased.

Parker blushed and came in for a hug. “We had the best time.”

“I don’t want to hear about your sex life.” Grace’s comment pulled a chuckle out of her mother.

“I can get away Friday afternoon for that issue you have on Sierra Highway,” Colin told her.

“Around three?”

“Works for me.”

The front door opened again, and she heard Matt and Erin walk in.

“Looks like the party started without us,” Matt said before kissing their mom on the cheek.

Grace handed her brother the bottle of wine. “Not unless you open this,” she told him.

Matt grinned. “Hello to you, too.”

“Where’s Austin?” Erin asked.

Parker’s younger brother still lived with her . . . and now Colin. Parker had been responsible for taking care of him and her younger sister after their parents died a few years back.

“Working the Christmas tree lot again this year.”

Grace’s gaze moved to the tree in the den that flashed with colored lights and brightened up the room. “When did you guys have time to do that?” she asked.

“We didn’t. Austin and Mallory put it up while we were gone. Wasn’t that sweet?”

Matt had worked the cork free of the bottle and poured some for Grace.

“My siblings never put up a tree for me,” she complained.

“Where would we put it? Your patio?” Colin asked.

“He has a point,” their father said. He’d given up the rope to the dog and sat on one of the barstools at the kitchen island.

Colin handed out beers to his dad and brother, and Matt opened a bottle of white for Erin.

“Is Mallory coming?” Erin asked.

“She has finals.”

Grace had been in Parker’s kitchen enough to find what she needed to make the salad. As they all danced around the kitchen preparing dinner, the conversation swirled.

Out of nowhere, Colin asked, “So who is Dameon?”

Hearing his name brought Grace’s attention away from what she was slicing. “Uhm . . .”

“How do you know about Dameon?” Erin asked. “You told him about Dameon?”

“No, I—”

“I don’t know about a Dameon.” Parker pushed her shoulder into Grace’s arm.

“You’ve been in Maui,” Grace reminded her.

Colin reached over Grace’s shoulder and snagged a tomato. “If Erin knows about Dameon, he must be someone.”

“He’s not!”

“Instant denial is always a sign of a lie,” her father chimed in.