Simply Sensual (Simply 3)

“That’s wonderful. You haven’t been willing to consider it since Logan’s wedding and that was over a year ago.”

She sat down on the edge of the closed toilet seat and sighed. “My life is changing. I can’t explain it to you now, but I’m feeling better about things. About me.”

“No reason why you shouldn’t. You’re the best. Now, tell me, why the change. New job?”

“That’s part of it.” Grace hadn’t filled Emma in on all the details in her post-trust fund life because she wanted to have things settled. Wanted to know she could get by on her own before coming home or sharing her new experiences.

“New guy?”

“Maybe.”

Her grandmother let out a long-suffering sigh. “Well, fine. Keep up the silent routine. Just make sure he treats you right on your birthday. And before you get all huffy on me, I’m not talking about expensive gifts. There’re plenty of things you can do on a shoestring budget. Why, I hear those sex shops in the city are quite reasonable.”

“Gran!” Despite all she’d done today with Ben, a heated flush crept up her cheeks at her grandmother’s risqué comment.

Emma sniffed into the phone. “When did you and your brother turn into such prudes? I take it you haven’t used the bath soaps and candles I sent you for your birthday.”

Grace laughed, refusing to answer. Both she and Logan had grown used to their grandmother’s outrageousness years ago. It was Grace’s father, the judge, who never understood his mother and constantly threatened to put her in a home. But since neither Logan nor Grace would allow such a thing, he blustered but backed off. As long as Emma didn’t publicly create a scandal, Judge Montgomery was satisfied.

“So, how are Logan and Cat and the little princess?” Grace asked.

“Perfect, of course. And since you won’t come see them, they’re talking about coming to visit you. But now that you say you’re coming home…”

“Let’s take it one step at a time, Gran, okay? I’ve got to go now. I love you.”

“I love you, too. And whoever this guy is, don’t act all prim and proper around him. It isn’t a turn-on. Bye, dear.”

Grace rolled her eyes and hit the End Call button on the cell. She thought of herself earlier today in the back seat of Ben’s Explorer. Jeans beside her on the back seat, knees spread across Ben’s lap, his erection nudging at her sex, and the look of pure ecstasy on his face. A tremor of awareness traveled through her, settling in the empty place between her thighs, the place that longed to be filled—by Ben.

She hadn’t been prim and proper this afternoon. Not at all. She’d been downright bad. And she wanted to be naughty again. Amazing that an eighty-something-year-old was giving Grace advice on her sex life.

And it was advice she was already following. If Grace didn’t know better, she’d think her grandmother knew Ben.

Chapter Six

Grace was trouble, Ben thought. But not more trouble than she was worth, and that was the problem. He’d no sooner jumped out of the cold shower than the daytime doorman had called to inform him Grace was on her way down to the lobby. He hated having to resort to surveillance tactics, but she’d left him no choice.

So, he’d waited until she’d gotten into the elevator and then hightailed it down the stairs.

“She went that way.” The doorman pointed left, a huge grin on his face.

“Glad you find this amusing,” Ben muttered. He followed her out of the building, unable to tear his gaze from the sassy sway of her behind in tight, white denim. He waited around the corner while she went into Starbucks and watched as she disappeared into the subway entrance, coffee in hand, before he grabbed a cab and headed to the park.

He didn’t relish a confrontation and planned to stay out of sight. That way, he figured he could keep an eye on her and anyone else doing the same. His sole consolation lay in the fact that she hadn’t brought her camera and was a less-conspicuous target. But as she rounded the corner by the basketball courts, her blond hair gleamed in the sunshine and her regal form made her stand out in a crowd. Grace was a walking target just by virtue of who she was.

She entered the playground where a group of women sat on a park bench while their children played on the swings and with each other. There wasn’t a free seat, but Grace didn’t hesitate. She joined them on the ground beside a dark-haired woman without a thought or care to the white jeans she wore.

Ben didn’t know why he was surprised. Grace was as down-to-earth as they came. Too much so for a woman raised in the Montgomery mansion he’d visited a few weeks earlier. But the woman he’d come to know was more at home sitting in the dirt than she was tiptoeing on freshly waxed floors. And she didn’t seem to put off the women who’d accepted her into their circle.

Certain her back was to him, he made his way over to the fence and rested his hands on top until the cold bite of metal dug into his skin. She’d kicked her feet out in front of her and leaned back on her elbows, every inch of her relaxed and unwound.

In contrast, his body was still strung tight. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her smart women turned him on. What he’d omitted was that

it was her brains that did it to him. He’d never encountered such an erotic combination of innocence and seduction in one delectable package. Never had that kind of wide-eyed determination focused solely on him.

A child’s shriek rent the air and snapped Ben out of his reverie. He jerked his gaze toward the swings and a set of monkey bars behind. A young kid hung upside down from his legs on one of the bars that were meant to be swung across. A young mother rose, but Grace jumped up and placed a hand on her arm. The woman nodded and Grace ran over in her place, rescuing the upside-down child from all sorts of possible disasters. She set the kid down on his feet, but instead of running off to play, he jumped up and grabbed Grace around the neck, hugging her hard. Apparently, they weren’t strangers, and she lifted him so his legs wrapped around her waist. She paused to ruffle his hair before bringing him back to his waiting mother.

An unexpected lump formed in Ben’s throat. He fought it, he tried to swallow it, but the damn thing remained. He recalled similar incidents in his childhood—usually on Sundays, his mother’s only day off. No matter how exhausted, she’d take him to a neighborhood park, pack a picnic lunch, and set him loose to play. She’d laugh, she’d watch, she’d mend his scrapes, and wipe the tears a macho boy didn’t want to show.