A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long. It's still not at all what I wanted it to be, but that's how it goes sometimes. Chapter ten will be up soon. Promise.

Chapter Theme Song: None, but the song in the chapter is "I Like It" by DeBarge. I'm an old-school R&B, funk, neo-soul, jazz kind of girl. I greatly prefer old music to new music, so if you have any musical suggestions in any genre that you think will go well with the story (or the direction you'd like to see it go in), feel free to let me know.

That's it for now. R&R. Alexandri

"Did you want anything else, Grace?" Joan asked. "Some more tea or something?"

Grace raised an eyebrow at her friend and shook her head. "I'm good. Thanks for asking. For the fifth time."

Joan blushed. It always amused Grace that Joan—and Adam, too, for that matter—was still prone to blushing. They were twenty-seven, for goodness' sake. "I'm just trying to be a good hostess," Joan stated in her defense.

"I helped you unpack and organize this place," Grace reminded her. "I'm not a guest."

"Oh, please," Joan exclaimed. "We're still guests and we live here."

"As much as you guys have me over, I live here, too."

"Girls," Adam said with all the stern exasperation of a father weary of his children's bickering.

Grace and Joan shot affronted glares at him. Adam grinned then burst into laughter. Though she rolled her eyes, Grace couldn't help the pleasure she felt at seeing him so completely happy. Not even when they'd been in college had she seen him so whole. Marriage certainly agreed with him.

"Whatever, Rove," Joan said.

"That's my line, Girardi."

"He's mine now, Grace. I can call him whatever I want." Joan gathered their plates and headed for the kitchen. "And it's Rove now. I'm not gonna keep telling you that."

"Well, I can't call you both Rove," she called back.

"What happened to Joan?"

"Yeah, that doesn't work for me." Grace stood and went to the kitchen. "It's too weird. Let me help," she said, setting her cup in the sink and looking for Tupperware to put the leftovers in.

"No, I have it. Go. Sit. Talk to Adam," Joan said as she pushed Grace out of the kitchen. "You want any dessert?"

"No, thanks." Grace sat at the dining table, slightly bewildered by the whole experience. "When did Girardi get so domestic?" she asked Adam.

"Rove," Joan called from the kitchen. "It's Rove."

Adam lowered his eyes and smiled into his glass of wine before answering. "Couldn't tell you."

"Well, she needs to stop it," she grumbled before calling back, "'cause it's very disturbing."

Setting his glass on the table, Adam sat back and studied Grace for a moment before asking, "How are you doing?"

She gave him a questioning look. Ever since Joan and Adam's housewarming party a couple weeks ago, the pair had been especially attentive. Adam usually restricted his concern to asking how she felt. Joan, however, had developed a maddening need to get things for her: a glass of water, a sandwich, a book off of a high shelf—all things Grace was more than capable of doing for herself. As much as she loved the two, something she'd never told either of them and at this point wasn't going to, they were driving her nuts. "Do I look like I'm going through something? Am I sick and don't know it? Have I somehow contracted leprosy or some other highly contagious and disgusting disease?"

"Uh, no."

"Then what's with the never-ending concern?"

"You're our friend," he said simply as if that should explain everything. When she merely blinked at him, he smiled and said, "We just want to make sure you're happy and burden-free."

"Well, I am," Grace said, her gaze sliding to the table.

A knock on the front door interrupted whatever Adam was going to say. She started to stand only to be waved back in her chair. "You may be here all the time, but you don't actually live here," he said as he stood. Then he leaned down so that his mouth was level with her ear. "By the way, you can fool most of the people most of the time, but you can't fool me at all." With that unsettling message, he proceeded to the door.

Grace mentally shook herself. He doesn't know, she told herself. He couldn't possibly know. If he did, he'd have said something by now. From the moment he'd moved back to Arcadia, Adam had been more attentive toward Grace than he had been since before his mother died. He'd made a point of showing an interest in her life without prying the way Joan did. It was almost like he was looking out for her, playing the role of big brother the way he had after Aaron left. She wondered what he'd say if he knew she and Luke had slept together.

Joan's squeal of joy brought Grace back to the moment. "I can't believe you're here," she exclaimed. "When did you get in? Are you hungry?"

"No, I ate already," the visitor said.

Grace stilled. It couldn't be Luke, could it? Slowly, she turned and saw Luke hug his sister. She almost frowned when she noticed Adam watching her. Then he raised his eyebrow at her and it was all she could do to keep her jaw from dropping. He did know. How on Earth had he figured it out? And had he told Joan? Grace sincerely hoped he hadn't. She could only imagine Joan's reaction to such news: complete disgust or complete elation. Grace didn't want to deal with either.

Inwardly steeling herself to act naturally, she stood and smirked at Luke and Joan's unabashed display of sibling affection. "Hey, geek."

Luke's head whipped around toward her. Grace," he said finally. "Hey."

Smooth. "Miss home, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"This is, what, your third visit in five months?"

A disturbingly smug smile curved his lips. "You've been keeping count." It wasn't a question.

Grace refused to squirm under his knowing gaze. With a sardonic smirk, she said, "I'm an attentive woman."

"I'll bet."

Deciding not to dignify that loaded statement with a response, she glanced at Joan to find her grinning with an expression frighteningly similar to her brother's. Adam stared at his feet, struggling to keep the smile off his face. Rolling her eyes, she turned away and said, "I'm going to put on some music."

Grace flipped inattentively through Joan and Adam's CD collection. Why did Luke have to show up tonight? He was the last person she wanted to think about right now. It didn't help that Adam knew about them. Well, he couldn't really know, but suspected them. If Luke stayed around, it would only be a matter of time before Adam figured it out for sure. She didn't know if she could stand his prodding, gentle though it may be, to let Luke into her life.

"I don't remember you being a Patrick Swayze fan," Luke said as he came to a stop beside her.

Looking down to find a copy of the Dirty Dancing soundtrack in her hands, Grace said, "Why do they have this?"

"I think the bigger question is why is it in your hands?"

"No clue," she said as she put it back on the shelf.

"So," Luke began as he examined the burnt CDs, "what have you been up to?"

"Excuse me?"

He sighed. "I'm trying to make conversation since our hosts are otherwise occupied."

Grace looked over her shoulder to see Joan and Adam dishing out the strawberry pie Joan had made. Every now and then one of them would bump into the other. They'd laugh and kiss before going back to their task. "Of course, they are," she muttered.

"So," Luke said again, "back to my question."

"Look," she whispered fiercely, "I don't know what's going on in that genius head of yours, but you can just forget it. And, while you're at it, stop with the chitchat."

Luke nodded as if pondering her words while looking at the CD case in his hands. Then he took the CD out and put it in the stereo. "Still pushing me away, huh?"

Grace took a deep breath and silently counted to ten. Why couldn't Luke ever leave anything alone? When she trusted herself to speak, she said quietly, "This isn't me pushing you away or running away from you or any other inane thing you can come up with. We had a one night thing, nothing more, nothing less. What I'm doing now is putting it behind me, you know, moving on. You should try it."

"You're going to move on by ignoring what happened?" Luke asked, his voice carefully neutral. "Good luck with that."

"What do you want from me?" she snapped.

He simply raised an eyebrow and pushed the stereo's play button.

"Dessert?" Joan asked from the dining table as an upbeat R&B intro filled the room. She and Adam had set three servings of pie on the table and she was looking at them expectantly. As if she doesn't sense the tension, Grace thought bitterly. The woman's like a bloodhound when it comes to this sort of thing.

"Sure," Luke said and headed toward the table.

With a reluctant sigh, Grace followed only to be stopped the lyrics streaming from the stereo:

I've been thinkin' 'bout you for quite a while
You're on my mind every day and every night
My every thought is you, the things you do
Seems so satisfying to me, I must confess it, girl.

You've got to be kidding me, she thought as she glared at Luke. "I have to go."

"Why?" Joan asked, looking up at Grace's sudden announcement.

"I have some work I need to do," she lied as she grabbed her coat.

"But . . ."

"I'll talk to you later." Grace left before either of them could stop her. As sped off, she wondered what she was going to do now that Luke was in town. Why couldn't her life ever be simple?