Chapter 10
Ten
I’ve been gone a damn week. Seven whole days. That wasn’t the plan, yet here I am, finally sitting in Jace and Gracie’s driveway. It’s well past midnight. All the lights are out in the house, save for the Christmas tree twinkling through the gauzy curtains.
Speaking of Christmas, it’s in three days.
Three.
Time has flown by this month—well, it always does. The older you get, the faster it seems to disappear.
After my first drop, I disinfected the van and napped for a few hours before another call came in.
Kentucky.
A seven-hour drive one way and another seven back to Kings Cursed.
Then another.
And another.
I’ve been running on caramel coffee and beef sticks. I haven’t showered in three days.
Lifting my arm, I sniff my armpit and damn near choke.
Gross.
Hauling my ass out of the van and up the front steps of their house like a dog with a tail between its legs, I knock.
I know I shouldn’t. They’re likely asleep, and I don’t wanna be that asshole who wakes them, but I don’t wanna spend another night in my van.
I need a hot shower and a warm bed to crash in.
Brittle wind stings my cheeks as I wait for someone to answer. When nothing comes, I consider calling Jace, but if he’s anything like me, he puts his phone on silent, and I don’t have Gracie’s number.
Gracie.
I still can’t get that video Jace sent me of them together on the couch out of my head.
I’ve jacked off to it a dozen times.
Sighing loudly, the cold air swirls with my hot breath as I try one more time, just once, to go inside. I lift my knuckles to rap on the door, but I stop to check the handle instead, just in case. By some miracle, it’s unlocked.
“Thank fuck,” I grunt as I quietly enter the silent house, leave my boots by the door, and tiptoe like a burglar up the stairs, hoping the creeks don’t wake them, or worse, they do, and Jace beats me with a baseball bat.
I snicker at the thought.
Fighting him.
Wrestling him to the ground.
We’d be hard before either of us got our clothes off and…
Christ…
Not now.
I can think about this later.
Shaking my head, I make it to the spare room. The bed is made, and there’s a picture of the three of us on the nightstand. I smile at the wholesome touch, no doubt put there by Gracie.
Stripping out of my clothes, I don’t bother showering at this hour. That will surely wake them. I can bathe in the morning after snow blowing the driveway since another storm front is supposed to roll through in a few hours.
Setting my bag on the floor at the end of the bed, I shuck off the rest of my clothes and slip under the soft covers.
Staring up at the ceiling, I thread my fingers behind my head, and a small smile tugs at the corner of my lips.
Tomorrow, I get to see them again.
Touch them.
Kiss them.
Talk to them.
Cuddle.
Giddy anticipation bubbles in my chest as I yawn.
Only a few more hours.
Damn.
I can hardly wait.