The Beauty of Grace Read online

  The Beauty of Grace

  Copyright © 2016 Nicole Richard

  Published by Nicole Richard, 2016 2nd Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written consent of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or publisher.

  Editor: Ashley Williams

  Proofreader: The Indie Author’s Apprentice

  Interior Formatting: Champagne Formats

  Cover Design: John Pacheco

  Cover Photos: Shutterstock, Inc.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Epigraph

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Playlist

  About the Author

  Books by Nicole Richard

  For BJ

  In Memory of my Mother and her love of romance novels.

  We love and miss you Ma!

  I lucked out and made it just in time to snag a prime parking spot close to the grocery store entrance. I shoved my car into park and glanced quickly at the clock on the dash, which read a little after five in the afternoon. Then I stared out the windshield at the gray clouds hanging low in the near distance before turning and looking over my shoulder toward the back seat of my car. My son was fast asleep. An involuntary sigh escaped my lips at the thought of my arms struggling to carry him and the burning that would take over my back.

  The next day was Drew’s fifth birthday, and I needed to get the ingredients to make him a cake. I turned back around and sank down in the driver’s seat. How had my life ended up at this point? I am a twenty-three-year-old single mother of a little boy to care for and only a handful of people who gave a damn.

  After another huff, I got out of my car, stuffed a shopping bag in my purse, and retrieved my sleepy head little boy. Subtly running the back of my knuckles over his cheek, I tried to wake him. Drew stirred as I took him out of his seat and then closed the door with my butt. Rubbing his back, I whispered in his ear, “Hey, buddy, do you think you could walk for Mama?” He nodded his head against my right shoulder, lifting it seconds later.

  In the store, Drew perked up a little and laid his arms one on top of the other on one side of the shopping cart, watching the people we passed. Looking up, I scanned the aisle signs above until I found the one labeled baking supplies.

  Drew’s light-brown eyes lit up as we passed the vast variety of colors and flavors of cake mixes, neatly displayed in rows on the shelf.

  “Mama, could I have the one with all the different colors?” Drew pointed his index finger and asked so politely.

  I pointed to the box, confirming his choice, “This one here, baby?” He nodded. “Did you want the frosting with all the sprinkles in it, too?” Nodding against his arm again, he let me know I made the right choice. We were almost out of the aisle when Drew changed his mind from cake to cupcakes, and I had to turn around to grab the wrappers. With all the things we need for a quiet little birthday dinner, we headed to the checkout.

  We were standing there, and I was scanning the numerous magazine covers as Drew tried to stand in the cart. He was attempting to grab a long yellow ribbon tied to a Happy Birthday balloon decorated with dump trucks, but it was just out of his reach.

  With both my hands on his shoulders, I leaned in close to his ear and explained that we had balloons at home. He quickly reminded me they weren’t like that one. I kissed his cheek, and his lips turned into a pout. Darn it, that look just broke my heart. I looked at that pout one more time and thought about the twenty in my pocket that was supposed to last for the rest of the week. Drew was too little to understand that I hadn’t found a job yet or just how stressful this move had been. Thank goodness for Aunt Jackie and her hospitality. I was just about to try to distract him with something, when someone moved and snagged the yellow ribbon out of the air.

  A large hand held a yellow ribbon right in front of Drew. Snapping my head up, the warmest set of blue eyes and a dimpled smile to die for greeted me. My lips pressed flat as I eyed the handsome stranger. He brought the balloon closer to Drew all the while looking at me, silently asking for my permission. I smiled and nodded.

  “Is it your birthday little man?” he gently asked Drew. Hearing his sexy rasp, hinting Southern charm, rendered me speechless.

  Drew stared at the stranger as if he were unsure if it would be okay to accept the gift, but then he whispered, “Tomorrow.”

  “Well, little man…” The good-looking stranger looked up at me. “If it’s okay with your mama here, I’d like to get that for you… for your birthday.”

  A half-smile crept up. I nodded my approval with thankful eyes and stepped closer to Drew. “Baby, what do you say to the nice man here?”

  Drew turned to him and offered a shy thank you before taking hold of the yellow ribbon and staring up at the balloon.

  “You’re welcome, little guy. Have a good birthday.”

  I thanked the kind stranger as he paid for his items and headed out of the store.

  Stopping before the exit, I made sure to tie Drew’s balloon securely around his wrist. I had learned my lesson about flyaway balloons one too many times. Now, with the balloon secured and the shopping bag in the cart, we walked out into a faint drizzle.

  It wasn’t until I was walking back from the cart return that I saw my front driver’s side tire was flat. Irritated, I groaned and dropped my forehead in my hand. Shoot! Can my life get any worse? Standing there for a minute, I wondered what I was going to do now. I snuck a peek at Drew yanking on his balloon. He was oblivious to what was going on and how crappy my mood had just gotten. I was quickly
pulled out of it at the sight of him. Somehow, he always had a way of putting a smile on my face. I reminded myself that as long as I had my little man in my life, these things were just minor setbacks. The irrational side of me wondered why minor setbacks usually cost a lot.

  I was just about to open my driver’s side door when I turned toward the rumbling of a motorcycle that came to a halt next to me. A black leather jacket covered, chiseled-to-perfection male specimen kicked the kickstand and removed his helmet. My breath hitched at the sight of our grocery checkout friend. A warm pool of heat flowed effortlessly through my veins. What in the world was going on with my traitorous body? I watched his movements as he placed his helmet on the handlebars and swung his leg, lifting himself off his bike.

  “You need some help there?” he asked blankly and sauntered to the side with the flat.

  “I do,” I said softly.

  Closely watching his every move, I should have been tense, on guard—for heaven’s sake this man was technically a stranger—but I felt a sense of safety in his presence. I think he just asked me something, but for the life of me, I had no idea what he said. With a kind voice and a sexy grin, he asked if I had a spare in the trunk.

  I hoped I did, my car wasn’t that old. Sometimes I missed that damn Mercedes, but with a baby to support that was not a practical choice. So, I traded it in and lived off the rest.

  “I think so.” I popped the trunk.

  Standing at the open trunk, he searched until he found what he was looking for. Spare tire and jack in hand, he got to work.

  Ten minutes later, my tire was changed and just in time. It started to drizzle again. Our mystery friend slammed the trunk shut and tapped it twice before looking at me. I felt so out of sorts near this man, and a faint flush warmed my cheeks.

  “Thank you, Mr.…” I realized I didn’t even know his name. Smirking he stuck his hand out.

  “Name’s Alex, or AJ, as everyone else calls me.”

  “Well thank you, Mr.—umm, I mean, Alex.” And for the third time that day, I felt the blush in my cheeks.

  “My pleasure, Miss—”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s Grace, and thank you again for your help, and the balloon.”

  Alex nodded like a gentleman. “I’d tell you to have your husband get you a new tire but didn’t see a ring on your finger. So maybe have your boyfriend get that looked at. You don’t want to be driving around on a spare tire for too long.”

  “Thank you, I’ll let him know.” I knew his angle, and I wasn’t falling for it. Clearly, he was trying to fish around for information about if I had a man in my life. Even though he was a Good Samaritan, I still had some level of skepticism.

  I smiled, waved, and got in my car, only to sneak a peek through the rearview mirror. Watching Alex straddle his motorcycle and put his helmet on made that instant pool of heat slowly shift south again, and I wondered if I needed to get myself checked out. I couldn’t recall ever being this flustered by the opposite sex before.

  “Hey there, love. How was your birthday?” Aunt Jackie asked Drew as we walked into her beautiful white stone and stainless steel kitchen. The smell of fresh coffee pleasantly assaulting my nose. If I had to choose, I’d say this was my favorite room in the house.

  “It was good. Me and Mama made colorful cupcakes, and I got two big trucks… see.” He put one down and used two hands to hold the other above his head.

  “Well, those are some really big trucks,” her tone was dramatic. She winked and smiled warmly at Drew. “Maybe, if your Mama says it’s okay, we’ll take them out back after breakfast and have them do some hauling?” I watched his eyes as they danced and sparkled at what he just heard. “Sorry I missed your birthday, but I do have a surprise for you. Not until after breakfast, though, okay?

  “Ok, Aunt Jackie.” She lightly ruffled his messy dark-brown hair before turning back to the stove and flipping the pancakes cooking on the griddle.

  “Why don’t you pour some coffee, love, and have a seat. I’ll have breakfast ready in a couple of minutes.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Jackie. I can’t thank you enough for all of this.”

  “Now, love, you are the only real family I have left, and it’s not as if I don’t have the space. Especially after the way my no good brother treated you… that’s just horrible.” She shook her head as she plated the last pancake and set the whole stack next to the bacon and fresh fruit waiting on the table. I set my coffee cup and Drew’s plate down, adding a slice of bacon and some fresh strawberries to his. Drew watched closely as I cut his pancake into little bite-size squares and drizzled just a tiny bit of maple syrup on top.

  “Thank you, Mama and Aunt Jackie.” He said before digging in, making humming noises and bobbing his little head in his appreciation of his delicious breakfast.

  The three of us enjoyed a quiet breakfast together, and I was grateful for Aunt Jackie. Without her, Drew and I would probably be homeless, or worse, stuck close to the man who I absolutely loathe, my father. I was pretty sure she enjoyed having us here as well. Since Uncle Marcus died a few years ago, I could only imagine how lonely she had been.

  After shit hit the fan for the last time, I decided it was time to leave and never look back. My father never approved of Andrew and me having the relationship that we did, more so when we got pregnant at such a young age. What made it even worse was that Andrew was nowhere close to being rich.

  He came from your average everyday middle-class South Carolina family, and that was just something my father would not accept. He felt I should have been with the likes of Sean Vanderlock, pompous ass, son to Clarence and Gloria Vanderlock. The wealthy investment firm owner in Charleston that my father had dealings with. Too bad they didn’t know what kind of man Sean really turned out to be. So, when I told them that I was pregnant at age eighteen, my father basically disowned me for shaming the family. Our conversation, I would never be able to forget:

  “Grace Madeline Chandler, what in the world are you going to do with a baby at eighteen, and from a no good, blue collared worthless piece of shit?” He was seething, roaring out his frustrations in his strong Southern accent.

  My face had shock written all over it. I hung my head, and my eyes faced down as I answered, hanging onto the last bit of hope I had. “But, Daddy, I love him. We’ll be okay. You’ll see.” Tears began to burn in the back of my eyes and my throat was thick with emotion, but I refused to let the tears fall and show weakness in the presence of my father, Harold Chandler.

  With his strong, deep voice, my father gave me the ultimatum that changed my life, “Grace, you have a choice to make.” He paused for a second, and I could still feel his heated gaze on me. “Either you get rid of that bastard child from that no good white trash and come to your senses, or you get your things and get the hell out,” he practically roared the last part of his demand. I cringed and wrapped my arms around my waist, closing in on myself. His next words were softer, but the deadly wrath they held was prevalent. “And if you decide the latter, Grace, you are to never set foot on this property again. You are dead to me. You hear? Dead!”

  A tear fell, and I went into a complete state of shock. Finally looking up at him, I wondered who the man standing in front of me was. His features were familiar, a few we even shared. The man I had I always known to be my father, but now, I had no idea who he really was, if I ever did.

  It was after my father kicked me out and I ran to Andrew that my day from hell was topped off. He didn’t even wait for me to tell him my news. No, when I knocked on Andrew’s front door, he scooped me into his arms and told me all about how he was leaving for the Marines. He was leaving in three days for Fort Bliss Texas, and then God knows where. Torn up inside over the whole situation of my family turning their backs on me. Andrew’s news felt like a bullet to my heart. Needless to say, I never got the nerve to tell Andrew I was pregnant, and when he left, it felt like the death of me. That’s the day I packed up everything I could fit in my Mercedes coupe, a gi
ft from my parents for my graduation, and searched out a life of my own. Little did I know how hard it would actually be.

  Drew tugged at the sleeve of my shirt, slowly bringing me out of my horrid daytime nightmare. I was so grateful for those little brown eyes staring back at me.

  “Mama, can we go out back? Aunt Jackie said I could have my surprise now. Please. Please, pretty pleeeeease.” I smiled at how insistent he was and kissed his cheek. He squealed all the way to the kitchen door that leads out to the backyard. However, the backyard was the understatement of the year. Really, Aunt Jackie’s property was more like a lush, green playground that went on for miles.

  Aunt Jackie held Drew’s hand as she told him to be patient before opening the door. He quickly quieted down but still bounced up and down with excitement. She opened the door, letting Drew run out first. His four-foot body halted in front of the first porch step as he stared out to the site in front of us only ten feet away. With wide eyes, he turned to Aunt Jackie, “That’s for me?” he asked as he pointed his index finger to his chest.

  “Sure is, love. I’m really going to need your help around here planting a garden.” She feigned seriousness, holding back a smile.

  Parked next to a three-foot stockpile of dirt in the middle of the back yard was a kid-sized red-and-black riding front-loader tractor. My son has had a fascination with trucks and tractors since, well since birth I guessed.

  Drew looked up at me. I nodded, and he took off running down the five steps to the tractor. Overflowing with excitement, Drew’s mouth rumbled noises as if the machines in actual operational order. Aunt Jackie and I both walked down toward an admiring Drew and his new toy. At the press of a button, the tractor roared to life. Drew jerked his head back, giddy with delight at the sight of his gift.

  “Love, if you’d like to go in and have a shower, I’d be more than happy to sit out here with Drew.” My heart swelled, how could this woman love me more than my own parents ever could?

  “Thank you, Aunt Jackie. I would really like that. I won’t be too long.”

  “Take your time. I have nowhere but here to be.” She winked, returning her attention to Drew.