1It's been awhile - my Gracie muse left on an extended vacation - she's only recently returned for short visits. Most of these characters still aren't mine - just borrowing them for a bit of fun.
CHAPTER 7
They separated like they'd been doused with ice water.
"Lillian Grace, you care to answer me?"
Grace, pale with surprise, glanced at Joe before meeting her father's thunderous expression. She knew what it looked like - her dressed in satin pyjamas, he clad only in jeans, fresh from a shower. "Daddy-"
"Bosco," Joe interrupted. He had no idea what he was going to say. He had a pretty good idea of the kind of scene he and Grace portrayed. And the fact that she'd lost all color when she heard Bosco's voice urged him to intervene.
"You stay out of this," he ordered and turned his attention back to his daughter. "Lillian Grace?"
Grace cringed. Her father's use of her full name conveyed the anger he was managing to reign in. She hadn't thought they would be back until late afternoon. But then, she hadn't thought much past what to say to Joey after - well - after.
"Bosco, what are you yelling about?"
Grace cringed even more at the sound of her mother's voice just moments before she appeared beside her husband.
"Morning, Joe. Grace, dear," Sophie greeted as if finding this particular scene in her kitchen was an everyday occurrence and perfectly normal.
"I'm waitin', Grace," Bosco repeated stubbornly. He wasn't about to leave his baby girl alone with Doherty's kid. Like father, like son in his opinion. He'd conveniently forgotten his own escapades before meeting his wife.
"Daddy," Grace tried again, getting no further than the first time before her siblings, Belle in the lead, appeared behind her parents.
"What's goin' on?" Belle asked, peering over her parent's shoulders. The last thing she expected to see were the pair before her, her sister looking very much like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Oh."
"Take your brother and sisters upstairs," Bosco ordered, keeping his gaze on Grace and Joe.
Belle knew that tone and made a hasty retreat, siblings in tow. She knew when to test her father's patience. This wasn't the time.
Again, Grace tried to explain. "It's not what it looks like. I-we-" she stammered before trying again. "I know you think-"
"Grace, dear, stop," Sophie interrupted. She knew her daughter. Whatever the reason Joe Doherty was at their home, looking as if he'd just been interrupted dressing, it was perfectly innocent, she was sure. She knew her daughter. "You don't owe us any explanations."
"The hell she doesn't!" Bosco roared, continuing. "I'm not old enough to be 'Grandpa' and-
"DADDY!" Grace squealed, mortified that he would even suggest that she would - well -
that she - and in front of Joey, who was looking as if he were going to collapse from trying not to laugh so hard.
Grace failed to see the humor that was so evident to him.
Sophie pulled at her husband's arm, leading him from the kitchen. She was none to pleased with Bosco's outburst at the moment. Of all their children, Grace was the most modest of them. "C'mon Bosco. Grace, we'll let to get back to what you were doing."
Her cheeks burned as her parents left them alone. No way was she going back to - to - that.
Once he'd gotten past the surprise, Joe had found the whole scene slightly humorous. You'd think Bosco had caught them going at it on the kitchen table the way he was carrying on. Besides, Joe wondered if Bosco had noticed the death grip his daughter had had on his neck. He thought it best not to mention it to Grace. She looked pathetic - like she'd managed to disappoint her parents in every way possible.
He instantly felt bad about deriving pleasure from the situation. "Hey, you okay?"
Not trusting her voice not to tremble, she nodded, staring at a spot just over his shoulder.
"Gracie," he coaxed, forcing eye contact. "You did nothing wrong-."
"I think you better go," she said suddenly.
Joe straightened, blinking in confusion. She could change the subject at any given moment without warning. Must be a female thing. "We're not going to talk about what just happened?"
"No." Her voice held a note of finality. She would never mention it again. It had been a moment of pure insanity. Pure stupidity.
Joe sighed. The walls were back up. Maybe it was best he left. Give her a little space; let Bosco calm down. He quickly finished dressing and followed Grace to the door.
Feeling playful and wanting to see her smile before he left, he dropped a kiss on her lips. Grinning, he whispered, "Do me a favor?"
A frown knit her brow in response. What know?
He glanced at her bare feet, peeking out from the satin ruffle at the hem of her pyjama pants. "Put some socks on; you're going to get sick."
A small smile broke. It had become sort of a joke between them.
"I don't get sick," she called after him, closing the door behind him.
