Chapter 33 Cleo
cleo
. . .
When we walked back to my parents’ house, Lennox met us outside with a half-asleep Charlie and a packed weekend bag for me, which came with strict instructions not to come back until Monday for riding lessons.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about staying an entire weekend with them, but I owed it to myself and Grady to find out.
The ride was quiet. By the time we reached town, Charlie was out like a light.
I had to stop myself from giggling when her soft little snores filled the silence in the cab.
Sometimes I would catch Grady’s eyes drifting our way, a smile on his lips.
I wasn’t sure if he was just shocked to find me in his truck, or if it was because he saw his daughter and me together.
It wouldn’t be the first time. I often felt him staring at us when we were together.
Up ahead, the familiar craftsman house came into view. I’d purposely avoided this area after Grady’s mom died. The last time I was here was only two days before she passed. She’d called me, voice barely above a whisper, and I dropped everything to hurry over.
I held her hand the entire time we were together, laughing and crying as we dug into our past. Only for her would I walk down a Grady-filled memory lane.
Before leaving, she had tugged me back into a hug and thanked me for being such a presence in her life.
As I went to leave, Robert brought in a large blue box with a gold ribbon on the top.
Marsha told me not to open it until I got home, but I was too curious.
I ripped into it the moment I was in my car.
I wish I had waited.
Inside, there was an all-too-familiar set of vintage Pyrex mixing bowls.
One of the first times Grady brought me home to meet his mom, we had gabbed about how much we loved baking.
I’d admired the set, with its blue snowflake pattern.
Marsha said it had been passed down to her from her mother, and she hoped to one day pass it to her daughter-in-law.
I think, somehow, she knew it was going to be the last time we saw one another.
And she was right.
Grady cut the engine in the driveway, but neither of us made an effort to move.
So much had been said tonight. Every part of my body felt heavy.
Slowly, he reached over and gave my hand a squeeze.
My heart did a little flip as I turned toward him.
He was already staring at me, lips quirking up ever so slightly as my gaze dropped to his mouth.
“Help me get her inside?” he whispered, motioning toward his sleeping daughter.
I nodded and followed him outside. He dropped the keys into my palm before walking to the other side and helping her out of her seat.
I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking as I unlocked the door and held it open for them.
I watched as he quietly padded down the hall and disappeared into her room.
The house had been remodeled at some point.
The walls in the living room had once been a dreary off-white color Marsha used to complain about, but now they were a pastel blue that reminded me of her son’s eyes.
In the kitchen, a colorful backsplash was installed below new white cabinets.
I wondered what his mom would think, since she was notoriously messy in the kitchen.
She probably would’ve had a good time making Robert regret wanting something that was so easily stained.
I felt Grady’s presence behind me before he tentatively slid an arm around my middle and stepped closer. I let myself lean into his touch, be grounded by it. How had I fought this for so long when being with him felt so right?
“What’re you thinking about?” he whispered, tightening his hold on me.
I shivered, feeling his breath along my exposed neck. “That I’m an idiot.” His body grew tense, and I moved to correct myself. “Not in the way you think.”
“Care to enlighten me, then?”
“I keep wondering when this—being here with you—will feel awkward, but it doesn’t. It feels right. I think that’s what I’ve been fighting all this time.” I spun in his arms, unable to read the expression on his face. He was just as guarded as I was now that both of our hearts were on the line.
With one hand firmly planted on my lower back, he brought his other up to cup my face. “I know what a big deal this is for you, bluebird. And I don’t intend on fucking this up again. I hope you know that.”
There were so many things we still needed to figure out and talk about.
There was the matter of his wife, or soon-to-be-ex, I guess.
How did she feel about this whole mess we’d gotten ourselves into?
And then, of course, there was the living situation.
His entire life was in Tennessee, and mine was here.
With Charlie in the mix, that added a layer of complexity to the problem I don’t think either of us knew how to navigate.
But I didn’t want to think about all of that. Not tonight, at least. It was too exhausting, and my emotions were spent.
“I know,” I said, sliding my hands up to rest on his chest. The feel of his heart beneath my palms was comforting.
I hadn’t realized just how much until he’d forced me to feel it in the treehouse.
Laura would be pleased to hear about the breathing exercises, though. “I don’t want to hurt you either.”
“Is there a ‘but’ coming at the end of that sentence?”
“No,” I shook my head. “Not yet anyway.” A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he didn’t argue or push it. He seemed just as spent as I was. “So, where am I sleeping?”
Grady pulled me closer until there was no space left between our bodies. “With me. I’m not letting you out of my space for even a minute, not now that I’ve finally got you back in my arms.”
His words did something to me. I never understood what Grady saw in me when we were sixteen, and I was no closer to figuring it out now that I was thirty-six.
I had changed a lot over the years, my body softer and battered.
Thomas always made me feel insecure about not taking better care of myself, always telling me I needed to do more or I’d let myself go.
But from the moment Grady saw me standing in the bar over a year ago, I’d never felt an ounce of anything but appreciation from him.
“You know you aren’t going to get lucky tonight, right? There will be no funny business.”
He chuckled. “Not even a little bit?”
“Nope.”
“What about a kiss?” he asked, tilting my head so our mouths were nearly touching. “Surely that’s acceptable.”
I hummed as his lips swept over mine, but didn’t claim me. “A kiss often leads to more,” I said, barely managing to restrain myself.
“I can be good for you,” he promised. “I can even beg if it will help my case.”
Goddammit. Here I was setting the rules, and yet he already had me wanting to break them. I had to be strong, though. No matter how badly my body wanted him, I couldn’t go there until we talked about all the things we’d left unsaid.
But a kiss? I refused to deny either of us that much.
“As much as I would love to hear you beg,” I said, loving the way his chest vibrated in a deep growl at my words, “that’s not necessary tonight.”
Just like in the treehouse, we moved at the same time.
We were like magnets, bound to collide no matter how hard we fought against the pull.
The taste of him was intoxicating. He had me wanting to say fuck the rules and give in.
I might be the one begging by the time we finally came back up for air.
Without breaking the kiss, he reached down and lifted me into his arms. I wrapped my legs around him as we began to move, not stopping to think about where we were going or if I was too heavy for him.
My only focus was on him and the growing hardness between us.
I was just glad my own arousal wasn’t as obvious because I could feel how much of a mess I was.
“Don’t scream,” he said, breaking the kiss. I barely had time to register what he was doing before he winked and tossed me through the air. I landed on the bed with a soft thud, letting out a stream of giggles as he followed me down and settled between my legs.
I thought he would kiss me, but he didn’t.
Instead, he just stared down at me. The curtains were drawn, letting just enough moonlight in I could make out the stubble lining his jaw and the subtle curve of his swollen lips.
Reaching up, I traced them with my fingertips, feeling the moisture left behind from our frenzied kisses and loving the way they parted at my touch.
“What am I going to do with you?” he asked, lowering to his elbows so he hovered just a few inches away from my mouth. Whether by his own doing or just his body seeking friction, his hips ground against my center. My back bowed and my mind short-circuited from the contact.
“You’re making it hard—”
“No, actually, that would be you,” he said, repeating the motion.
I laughed. “You know what I mean. We can’t. Not yet anyway. You promised you’d be good.”
Grady bent down, quickly kissing me before he rolled away with a groan. He settled beside me, both of us staring up at the dark ceiling. “I know, I know. I will.”
I let the silence sit for only a minute before I said, “It isn’t because I don’t want to. You know that, right? I’m not doing this to torture you. I want it, want you, just as badly.”
I kept my eyes up as the bed shifted and Grady faced me. He reached out, grabbed my hand, and brought it to his lips for a kiss. “I know, baby. You don’t need to tell me.” I felt him smile against my skin. “But if you want to tell me how wet I’ve made you, by all means… Go ahead.”
“Grady!” I turned around to see the playful twinkle in his eyes. “You’re only torturing yourself.”
“Won’t you put me out of my misery?”
My lips twitched as I suppressed my grin. “No. Only good boys get rewards.”
He groaned, making me laugh. “You’re killing me here.”
“The wait will be worth it,” I said, hoping I was right. It’d been so long since I’d been with anyone. Was it possible to forget how to have sex? What if I wasn’t any good?
His thumb ran along the crease between my brows, smoothing it away. “When it comes to you, it always is.”