Chapter 35 Cleo
cleo
. . .
“Can we watch another one?” Charlie pleaded, glancing between her dad and me. “Please, please, please?”
Grady looked at me over the top of her head, and I shrugged.
I didn’t care how late she stayed up, but I wouldn’t say no to some time alone together.
All day, he’d driven me crazy with the most minuscule touches.
When he laid his arm along the back of the couch, his fingertips would brush my shoulder, or if we were in the kitchen and he needed to get by, his hands would find my hips to subtly move me out of the way.
It was such a silly thing to be turned on by, but I’d spent god only knew how long shying away from any kind of physical touch.
Knowing it came from a place of nothing but affection and need had me craving more.
“While you bribe your dad, I’m going to make some more popcorn,” I said, holding up the plastic tub with nothing but kernels at the bottom and giving it a little shake.
Since Charlie had mentioned a movie day when they’d gotten back from the grocery store, we decided to hold off on the baking until tomorrow.
We’d already sifted through Marsha’s recipe cards for a couple of treats that would be fun and easy for her to help with.
She seemed genuinely excited. While I was nowhere near the baker Marsha was, I knew enough I could make the learning process fun.
Halfway through the second movie, storm clouds had begun to roll in.
The sky looked ominously dark for most of the afternoon, but it seemed the weather was all talk and little bite.
With the curtains open, we watched nightfall and lightning strikes in the distance.
The smell of rain filled the air, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before the downpour began.
Putting the bag in the microwave, I leaned against the table and gazed into the living room. Charlie and Grady were howling with laughter as he tickled her mercilessly. “Miss Cleo! Miss Cleo!” she screamed, holding out her hand for me to take. “Help me!”
I couldn’t resist. “I’m coming!” I said, jogging up behind Grady. I ran my fingertips along his sides, and he shrieked.
“You’re going to pay for that,” he said, narrowing his eyes as he flew off the couch to the other side of the room. “Both of you.”
“Run, Charlie!” I said, urging her toward the hallway as her dad started my way. “Save yourself.”
I tried to follow, but he caught me around my waist and pulled me back toward the kitchen.
He covered my mouth with his hand as I screamed.
My shirt rode up as I fought back through giggles, giving him access to run his calloused fingertips across my abdomen.
Did it tickle? Sure. But I was more attuned to the way his touch made goosebumps crop up along my skin.
Charlie was just on the other side of the wall, likely hiding and waiting for someone to call a truce.
The truth was, I didn’t know if I wanted to.
Not when his hand stopped just above the waistband of my pants.
“You’re supposed to be fighting me, Cleo,” he whispered. I could feel his smile against the shell of my ear. “You’re supposed to stop me from having my way with you.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
Grady let go of my mouth, though it wasn’t uncovered long. The next moment, he crashed his lips into mine, and I lost all sense of self-control.
“Did you get him, Miss Cleo?” Charlie called from the hallway.
We broke apart instantly, both of us aroused and panting. I glanced down at his crotch, raising my brows at the apparent bulge there. He hung his head, grimacing as he adjusted it.
“I sure did. Coast is clear,” I called back breathlessly. “The tickle monster has been vanquished.”
Charlie came running around the corner with a big, goofy grin. “Can we still watch one more movie? I’m not tired yet.”
The alone time I wanted earlier only intensified after our heated exchange, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Sure. Go pick one out.”
She ran into the living room as Grady came up behind me, subtly squeezing my ass. “Bet she’ll be out in twenty.”
I didn’t say anything as I got my popcorn out of the microwave and emptied it into the bowl. I just hoped he was right.
Thirty minutes later, Charlie’s snores grew loud enough that we knew she was out for good. It’d only taken fifteen minutes for her to close her eyes, and another five for her breathing to even out. We’d both held our breath, waiting until we knew we could move without her waking.
Grady leaned forward, hitting pause on the remote. “Gimme five,” he mouthed, eyes darting toward his sleeping daughter between us. Her head was resting on my shoulder, so I just nodded as he pulled her into his arms and disappeared down the hall.
I got up and immediately started cleaning.
Though I’d been looking forward to this moment all day, I was suddenly sick with nerves.
I wasn’t sure if I was going to be strong enough to resist him, and honestly, I didn’t know if I wanted to.
Were there things we needed to talk about?
Absolutely. But who said that meant we had to abstain from sex in the meantime?
There was a time and place for these conversations, but right now, with our excitement from being together, it didn’t feel like the right moment.
I was in the kitchen washing up when I felt him come up behind me.
Just like last night in the living room, he slowly banded his arm around my waist and tugged me closer.
He crowded me against the counter, running his nose along the top of my ear and down toward my neck.
I could feel him hardening already, and let my head fall back against his shoulder to give him access.
His lips moved along my skin, worshipful like a prayer. They were needy and desperate, each one more frenzied than the last. Neither of us spoke, but our bodies were communicating better than words ever could.
Before I could move, he spun me around, hoisted me onto the countertop and stepped between my thighs.
The moment our mouths crashed together, I wound my fingers into his hair.
Neither of us was coming up for air, but it was okay.
I could die like this, right here and now, with his taste on my tongue.
“You’re fucking killing me,” he whispered. “I’m trying so hard to keep myself from doing something stupid and pushing you, but goddammit, you’re too perfect. I want you too much.”
I let my hands fall from his head to the hem of his shirt, running my fingers beneath.
His muscles contracted at my touch, and he let out a groan as I explored his body.
“Maybe we don’t have to be good,” I rasped as he bit down on my neck.
I had no doubt we’d be covered in marks come morning with the way we both seemed to be losing our minds.
He pulled back, ripping my hands from beneath his shirt and pinning them above my head against one of the cabinets. “Don’t say things like that, bluebird. Not unless you intend on letting me follow through.”
I bit down on my lip. Normally, I wasn’t the reckless or impulsive type. I’d stick to my decisions and wouldn’t budge. Still, maybe if we got some of this sexual tension and frustration out of the way, it’d clear the path toward the conversations we needed to have.
Honestly, I’d justify just about any reason I could so I could feel his hands and mouth on me again.
“Take me to bed,” I whispered.
Before I knew what was happening, I was in Grady’s arms, and he was damn near running to his bedroom.
I smiled into his neck before he kicked the door closed with his foot and tossed me onto the bed.
I sat up on my elbows, watching the way he stood over me like a god.
The room was darker than last night, and I could just barely make out his outline.
Reaching behind his head, he gripped the back of his shirt and pulled it off in one fluid motion before tossing it at me. I caught it with a laugh, though it abruptly stopped as I caught sight of the barest hint of ink along his abdomen.
His tattoo.
“Turn on a light,” I whispered. “I want to see you.”
Wordlessly, he walked over to the bathroom and flipped on the light so it spilled out into the bedroom. He stood in the doorway, hesitating slightly before he made his way back to the bed.
I sat up, staring up at him before reaching forward and tracing my fingers along the inked skin like I had at the rodeo when he first showed me.
Regardless of how long it’d been, I never stopped thinking about it.
The way I knew even at first glance it was about us.
He didn’t understand how eerie it was, and part of me wished he had.
If he’d known the whole story, if he’d met me for a drink, and I could’ve spilled my secrets, maybe we would’ve had our second chance back then.
But I think, despite all the bullshit and hardships we’d gone through, our story was always supposed to end up this way. We were far too young to fall so fast. We crashed and burned before we had a chance to fly. Now, we knew what we wanted, and what we wanted was each other.
“I’ve thought about this more times than I can count,” Grady murmured.
“Thought about what?”
“This. Us. Everything, honestly,” he said. “Having you here, touching me, it’s more than I ever dared to hope for.”
Leaning forward, I pressed a kiss to the exposed skin above the button of his jeans. He bit his lip, letting his head fall back with a suppressed groan as I let my tongue explore.
Suddenly, his hands were winding in my hair. He tilted my face up and kissed me. “But there’s one thing I’ve thought about even more,” he said, stepping back.
I missed his touch already. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
“Your tattoo,” Grady said, eyes raking down my body.
“That’s because you decided to run off and get married,” I joked, though it fell a little flat. That was the reality of our situation, and it sucked. Avoiding it did us no good, though. We might as well face it head-on if we have any hope of a future.
“I did,” he admitted. There were no excuses or platitudes. It was just his way of surviving at the time.
“Sit down,” I said, pushing to my feet. He did so without question, trading places until I was the one standing in front of him. His hands came up to cup the back of my thighs, fingers tracing circles on my skin.
Reaching for the hem of my shirt, I pulled it up and over my head before discarding it on the floor next to his. Grady’s eyes scanned my torso, searching for any hint of the ink he was desperate to see.
I let my touch trail down my stomach to the button of my shorts and popped it free. His eyes were on fire, lust-filled and crazed. His hands came up and began working the denim down my hips and thighs, and his lips parted when I was wearing nothing but my bra and panties.
The moment he spotted the markings, his lips parted on a gasp. It wasn’t nearly as fancy as his, but there, hidden along my hip bone, was the word bluebird in cursive script.
“Oh, Cleo,” he said, leaning forward to reverently place a solemn kiss along the ink. “Oh, baby. When did you do this?”
“The night I graduated from college. Rachel and I were drunk along Sixth Street and saw the sign. We decided to be a little wild and reckless. Tattoos had been on our bucket list for some time, so we figured what better way to close out our college days.” I smiled as I thought of the memory.
“I’d been missing you like crazy, you know.
She took my phone so I wouldn’t call you.
Because of that, I decided to be rebellious in another way. ”
“So, you marked yourself with this,” he said, finishing my thought.
“I’ve always been yours, even when I wasn’t.”
He stared up at me, and I felt myself crumbling. Tonight, it wasn’t about conversations or logistics or getting rid of sexual tension. This was about Grady and me. It was about the love we shared, because even I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I glanced at the clock, heart racing as I saw the time.
11:11 p.m.
And when he whispered, “I love you, bluebird,” so tenderly, so reverently against my skin, I let whatever was left of my walls crash to the ground.
“I love you, too.”