A/N: Sorry it took so long. I've been debating the direction I wanted to take this. I'm still not entirely confident, but I am now committed. Here's hoping this works. R&R. Alexandri.

Dedication: To Carole, whose reviews prompted me to get off my butt and buckle down with this chapter. Thanks.

Story Theme Song: I forgot to mention this last chapter. The Space Between by Dave Matthews Band from their Everyday album is the story theme. It really reminds of Grace and Luke.

Chapter Theme: Say Goodbye by Dave Matthews Band off of their album Crash.

Toeing off the Nikes she'd meant to leave in the Jeep, Grace carefully unzipped her wine-colored bridesmaid dress and let it slide to the floor. For the first time since she'd put it on some eight hours earlier, she felt free. Quickly stripping off the rest of her restrictive garments, Grace left them in a heap and rooted around in her dresser for some nightclothes.

Exhaustion forced her to take her time and time allowed her to think over the day. Both the wedding and the reception had been beautiful—a testament to Joan's vision and determination to create a special day. Grace, however, didn't relive the beauty of the day. From running around doing Joan's errands to escorting four inebriated ex-teachers home, Grace felt like she'd done more work today than she did at the radio station in a week. Now all she wanted was to climb into bed, pull the sheets over her head, and sleep the weekend away.

Instead, she sat cross-legged on her bed and gave her hair a thorough brushing. As the steady strokes soothed the tension from her body, she let herself think about Luke.

After she'd dropped off Ms. Lishack, now Mrs. Mason, she'd only had one more stop, and then, if God was merciful, nothing else would come up and she could go home. She'd slid behind the steering wheel of her beat-up Jeep and she looked at her last passenger. "Ready to go home?"

Luke had stared back at her and grimaced. "Honestly, no."

Grace sighed and collapsed in her seat. So God wasn't merciful, at least not tonight. "Why not?" It was all she could do to keep a whine out of her voice.

"Because I know what I'll be going home to: my parents sitting in the living room, already halfway through a bottle of Chianti, listening to maudlin 70s music, and pouring over Joan's baby pictures." Luke smiled apologetically at her. "I love my family but a guy can only take so much."

Returning his smile, she started the car and pulled off.

Looking at her with panic-stricken eyes, Luke pleaded, "Don't make me go back there."

Grinning now, Grace continued driving without giving a response. She bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud when Luke folded his arms over his chest and muttered, "Typical."

Ten minutes later, she parked in front of her apartment. "Come on," she said as she got out of the car.

"Bless you," he replied, finally making her laugh. Luke followed her to the door and into the apartment. "I'm not imposing or anything, am I?" he asked suddenly as if the possibility just occurred to him.

"I wouldn't have invited you if you were." She tried to hide a yawn and turned toward the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?"

Luke put out his hands to stop her. Both stilled when they landed on her waist and stomach. Hastily, he stuck his hands in his pockets. "You don't have to get me anything. You're tired. You should go get ready for bed."

Nodding jerkily, Grace changed directions and started for the bathroom. "I'll just get some sheets for your sister's bed and . . ."

This time he grabbed her shoulders. Grace closed her eyes as his heat seeped through the back of her chiffon dress. "I can do that, too," he said. "Don't worry about me."

He'd sent her to her room, ignoring her arguments that she had to make sure he was settled in first. A part of her was grateful that he'd let her off of the hostessing hook. However, another part of her wanted to tell him to stop trying to take care of her every time he set eyes on her.

Pulling her hair back into a ponytail, Grace climbed off the bed and made herself go to the living room where she knew Luke would be. Sure enough, he stood in front of her stereo, casually thumbing through her CD collection, a bottle of beer held loosely in his hand. "See anything you like?" she asked.

He turned toward her, looked down then returned his gaze to her collection, a slight smirk tugging at his mouth. Grace knew instantly that he'd taken one look at her camisole and lounge pants and wisely chosen not to voice whatever thought had come to mind. Instead, he said, "You should be in bed."

Fighting against a most unwelcome rush of heat, she folded her arms over her stomach and lifted her chin. "You should stop trying to tell me what to do."

If anything, his smirk grew full-blown. "There's a beer on the coffee table for you," he said as he pulled a CD case off the shelf and perused the back. "Who are these people?"

"Cult legends," she answered as she went to his side, beer in hand.

"So it says here, but who are they?" Grace gently took the case from Luke and put it back. "I don't recognize any of these groups."

"Most are local bands, some underground, a few mainstream alternative artists." With an amused smile, she shrugged. "I've listened to a lot of college radio. You want to hear something?"

"No, thanks. Are you still tired?"

Grace nodded and tried to suppress the smile that kept threatening to bloom on her lips. For some reason, Luke really amused her tonight. "A little. But, I figure since you insisted on getting yourself situated, the least I could do is talk to you for a little while."

"What are we going to talk about?" he asked, following her to the couch.

"Well, it was a lovely wedding."

Luke laughed. "Yes, it was. Though I have to say seeing Joan flirt with Adam so mercilessly during the garter throw was a bit much for me."

"They needed a room," Grace agreed. "And who knew your sister was such a Tony Bennett fan?"

"I know. I think it was a tribute to Dad or something like that."

"It was nice."

"You looked beautiful tonight."

"Thanks."

"What, no disparaging remarks? No threats of physical violence?"

"No." Grace shrugged and drew her knees to her chin. "I hear you're almost done at MIT."

"Yeah," Luke said, blinking at the unexpected change of topic. "I defend my thesis at the end of the month."

"What are you going to do next?"

"I've been interviewing for teaching positions."

"I always thought you'd go into research."

"I plan to eventually, but I think I'd like a break first."

"You want a break from science?"

Luke shrugged. "Physics has been my life for as long as I can remember. But there's more to life than science. It's past time I discovered it."

"And you're going to do that by teaching?"

"I'm going to do that by intentionally not locking myself in an ivory tower or a years-long research project."

They sat in silence after that, sipping their beers and trying to decide what to say next. Grace kept trying in vain not to look at him. She'd been right when she'd thought that he'd never be ruggedly handsome. But, with his head resting on the back of the sofa and his ankles crossed under the coffee table, there was something about Luke's long, lithe form that was undeniably attractive. It didn't help that he'd shed his suit jacket, tie, socks, and shoes and his undershirt peeked out from under his half-unbuttoned dress shirt. From his broadened shoulders to his more solid figure, he seemed to radiate a quiet strength.

Suddenly, he turned toward her, his eyes locking with hers. She wanted to look away but found she couldn't. She watched his gaze travel over her curled body, stopping at her feet. He grinned. "Nice socks."

Glancing at them, Grace grimaced. "They were a gift."

"Who'd give you pink, "princess" socks?" Luke asked, clearly amused. "More importantly, why would you keep them?"

"My six-year-old niece gave them to me."

"I didn't know you had siblings."

Grace arched an eyebrow at him. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Girardi."

A myriad of thoughts and emotions flickered through his eyes. "Not for lack of trying."

She licked her lips, dazed by the intensity of his gaze. How did he always manage to fluster her so? He raised his hand and brushed her hair back off her face. His fingers drifted lazily down her cheek, sending tremors of desire through her. Drawing a shaky breath, she said, "How's Caroline?"

"I don't know," he answered softly, tracing the length of her jaw.

For the life of her, she couldn't move away from his touch. "How was she when you left her?" she persisted, willing the thought of his girlfriend to break whatever hold he had on her.

"I didn't leave her. She left me."

A foreboding curiosity mingled with her rising desire. "She left you?"

Luke sighed and dropped his hand. Looking away, he sipped his beer and stared blankly at the table. "On Valentine's Day. She broke up with me."

"I'm sorry." He acknowledged her sympathy with a vague nod. "Why?"

"We want different things, have different needs." He smiled dryly. "She has one more year at MIT. Her family's there. She wants to settle there. She wants me to teach at MIT or Harvard or get a research grant and set up base there. I just want to get as far away from Cambridge as I can."

"Why?" she asked, turning to him. She couldn't explain the concern coursing through her. Grace only knew that she didn't like seeing Luke like this. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened. It's just . . . after all of this time I've spent preparing for my life to begin, I feel like I need to step back and look at my options. I know it doesn't make sense but it's like I'm at the starting line ready to take off. There are all of these paths in front of me and, with my first step, I'll be deciding how my life will be.

"There's the path directly in front of me, the one I've been preparing for since forever. You know, important research. Unlocking the mysteries of the universe. Great potential prestige and fame. A name that will go down in history with all the science greats.

"Then there's teaching. Introducing new, young minds to the beauties of physics. Having a normal life, none of the pressures and obligations of greatness. Just a family, a home, holidays and vacations, and the normal headaches and pleasures of ordinary life.

"And then there are all of the variations in between. I don't know which one to take. The only thing I do know is that I don't want to be in Cambridge anymore. I've done that. Yes, Cambridge has been good to me, but it's time to move on."

Grace watched him sip his beer. She kind of understood what he meant. Recently she'd found herself looking at her life and realized that she wasn't satisfied. She'd fallen into her career and let it make up the majority of her world. There were very few people in her orbit, few exterior interests. Somehow, she'd settled into living vicariously through Joan—a sad, pathetic thought. When had the audacious Grace Polk she used to be become so complacent? "I think you're putting to much pressure on yourself."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You're going to make mistakes, make choices that don't entirely fit."

"Did you?"

Nodding absently, Grace said, "I think I did."

Luke lifted his bottle. "Here's to me choosing a path and to you correcting your mistakes."

"I'll drink to that," she said, clinking her bottle with his. As if by mutual agreement, they drained their bottles and set them on the table with a distinct thunk. Grace giggled a little then gasped as Luke's arm snaked around her waist.

"Come here," he whispered as he drew her closer.

She went, surprised by her willingness and settled into his arms, her head resting easily on his shoulder. Like the last time she'd found herself in this position, Grace wondered at the comfort and naturalness she felt in Luke's arms. Deciding not to care, she relaxed into him, letting the sound of his heartbeat hypnotize her. She was on the verge of sleep when she felt laughter rumble in his chest. "What?"

"I was just thinking about your socks." He chuckled. "You'd be one bad ass, take-no-prisoners kind of princess."

"No Disney franchise for me."

Luke threw his head back and laughed. "Certainly not," he said, staring down at her.

His laughter faded as his eyes roamed over her face, finally settling on her mouth. They darkened with longing.

Grace felt an answering desire rise in her stomach. Her hand crept up his chest and curved around his neck. She tugged him to her. He didn't resist. The kiss was light, gentle; two people tentatively exploring the depth of each other's need. Then Luke's tongue swept over her lips and she opened for him, granting him access. His arms tightened around her, drawing her into his lap.

Plunging her hands in the short, crisp hair at his nape, Grace kissed him hungrily. She reveled in the pleasure of finally giving in to the urges he inspired in her. His hands roved over her back, pulling her closer. He arched beneath her, making her moan at the feel of his barely leashed strength straining toward her. She pressed against him and sighed into his mouth.

Luke pulled back when she began to unbutton his shirt. "Grace," he gasped.

She ignored him and pushed his shirt opened before tugged his undershirt out of his pants.

"Grace." She glanced up at his serious tone. "Are we really doing this?"

She stared at him for a long moment. This was the perfect time to stop this madness. Climb off of him, go to bed, and pretend this never happened come morning. Only problem with that plan was that she was tired of pretending. She was certainly tired of denying herself. She wanted this, one night to remember after he was gone. With a sly, sexy smile, Grace slid her hands under his shirt and flexed her fingers in his skin. He sucked in his breath and swallowed. "We are definitely doing this," she said and reclaimed his mouth.