Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
GRAY
“ S o, did Gray tell you the news?” Sidney asks our mom. We’re all sitting in the hospital room, chatting, with Dad stopping in periodically between seeing his own patients.
“What news?” Mom asks, looking over at me. She’s sitting up today, her arm in a sling. Her blond hair is tidy and pulled back from her face, and she even put her red lipstick on today.
She always says she wears the red when she’s feeling sassy.
“Nothing,” I reply, shaking my head.
“Not nothing,” Maya corrects me. “He brought home a girl. ”
“A real one. Like, she breathes and everything,” Sidney confirms with a satisfied smile. “And she’s pretty.”
Mom’s eyes narrow on me. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“Well, to be fair, you were pretty preoccupied yesterday,” I remind her.
“I’m never too busy to hear about a potential love interest,” Mom says with a sniff. “What’s her name? Where’s she from? What does she do? Is she from a good family?”
“You really are feeling better today,” I reply with a grin. “And the answers are…Stella, Seattle, interior design, and yes.”
Mom purses her lips. “You’ve always been a little shit.”
Maya and Sidney laugh with glee, and I just shrug, happy to see Mom feeling good enough to give me a hard time.
“I need coffee,” Sidney declares. “Maya and I are going to the cafeteria. Do you guys want anything?”
“I’m good,” I reply.
“I would love a fruit cup. Thank you, honey.”
When my sisters are gone, I cross to Mom’s bed and gingerly sit on the side, taking her uninjured hand in mine.
“You scared me,” I admit soberly.
“I didn’t much care for it, either,” she says and pats my cheek, then brushes my hair off my forehead. “You need a haircut, Grayson.”
“I never seem to make time for it,” I confess. “So, I spoke with Dad last night, but, honestly, he always downplays everything. He’s one of the best doctors in the country, and I can’t get an honest answer from him regarding my own mother’s health.”
“He doesn’t want to worry you,” she insists softly. “You have enough on your plate, Gray.”
“You’re my mom . I need to know what’s going on. You said yesterday that you’ve been dizzy a lot, and that’s not okay.”
“It doesn’t feel good, either,” she agrees. “I’m bad at remembering to take my medicine a lot of the time. But I’ve set reminders on my phone, and I have a pillbox sitting in the kitchen with everything laid out for me. Your dad and I fill it together on Sunday evenings.”
“How romantic.”
That makes Mom laugh, and then she sobers and looks down at her lap for a moment. “The truth is, there is something that I wanted to talk to you about. I was hoping to discuss it with all three of you together, but I can share it with you first.”
She grips my hand, holding on tightly.
“I have early-onset Alzheimer’s disease, Gray.”
I blink at her slowly and then shake my head.
“No. Absolutely, not.”
“Hey, it’s okay. Look at me, baby.”
My heart’s thudding quickly, and I feel like someone stole the breath from my lungs.
“I’m fine. For now, I’m fine. I forget little things here and there, like taking my medicine in the morning, but I’m okay.”
“But you’re going to forget,” I manage to say around the lump in my throat. “You’re going to forget us.”
“No, honey.”
“That’s what the disease is ,” I remind her softly.
“I may forget your name or your voice, but you’ll always be my child in my heart. All three of you are as important and dear to me as anyone ever could be. I’ll always know, in my heart and soul, that you’re my children.”
“How fast will this progress?” I ask her.
“Well, it’s unpredictable. I could be fine, just the way I am, for years.”
“Or?”
“Or it could happen quickly. Your father has consulted with some of the best physicians in the field, and I’m on medication that should help. I have no intention of going quietly into that dark night, my boy. I’m entirely too stubborn for that. I have weddings to attend, babies to meet, and a whole retirement to enjoy with the love of my life. I won’t be robbed of that.”
I smile, but the fact is, she doesn’t know that.
“If anyone can make it so, it’s you. And if you start to forget, we’ll all just remind you. Often.”
“I’m counting on it,” she replies, and I see the fear in her blue eyes for just a brief moment.
“Do you remember,” I begin, wanting to lighten the mood and give her a fun memory to think about, “when I was a kid, before the girls came along, and you and Dad took me to Montana to go skiing?”
“You were not a natural on the slopes,” she says with a chuckle.
“I hated it.”
“And that surprised us because you were always so athletic.”
I laugh at the memory of falling on that hill over and over again. “It was so damn cold. And hard. I hated doing the snowplow over and over again.”
“Well, you have to know how to stop, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t know,” I say, making her laugh. “I never got on another pair of skis in my life.”
“You enjoyed the hot chocolate by the fire afterward,” she reminds me. “You charmed the waitress into giving you extra marshmallows. You were a little heartbreaker, even at nine years old.”
“I deserved those marshmallows after the torture I endured on that godforsaken mountain.”
Mom’s laughing harder now, tears coming to her eyes.
“On the plane home, you told anyone who would listen that skiing should be part of the punishment in prisons.”
“I still believe that,” I agree, remembering that and feeling relieved that Mom does, too.
“I hope Stella doesn’t love to ski,” Mom says, changing the subject.
“I don’t know if she does,” I admit.
“You might want to find out. It could be a deal-breaker for you.”
I can’t imagine anything Stella has to say being a deal-breaker for me.
“When do I get to meet her?” she asks.
“Well, I didn’t plan to invite her up here with as bad as yesterday was.”
“You had better bring her up here before you both go back to Seattle. I don’t know how long I have to be in the hospital, and I will not miss out on meeting her. Understand me?”
“I’m an adult, you know.”
“You’re still my kid, and you’ll follow orders, young man.” She narrows her eyes at me, but I can see the humor in them, as well.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Has your father met her?”
“No, he was already at work when she arrived this morning.”
“And where is she staying?”
“She has a room at the resort, but I think I’ll talk her into staying at the house, if that’s okay with you.”
“There’s plenty of room for her,” she assures me. “The guest room next to your bedroom has fresh linens on the bed, and the bathroom is clean. Put her in there. No sneaking in with her to do God knows what.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Mom snorts just as my sisters walk back into the room, carrying their coffees and Mom’s fruit cup.
“You should go,” Mom says to me as she accepts a fork and the open container from Maya. “Go hang out with your girl.”
“I came to town to spend time with you. ”
“I’m boring,” Mom says. “I’m just sitting here. I have the girls to keep me company, and your father will pop in now and again. Go see your girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
Maya snorts. Sidney rolls her eyes. And Mom just grins.
“Okay, go see your friend then,” Mom suggests.
“Trust me, friends don’t look at each other the way they did this morning,” Maya says.
“And how was that?” I ask her.
“Like she’s an ice cream cone.”
“Double chocolate?” I ask her.
“Oh, yeah. With chocolate sprinkles,” she confirms.
“Sounds about right.” I kiss Mom’s cheek. “You’re sure?”
“Go,” she says before popping a red grape into her mouth. “Have fun. And bring her to see me very soon.”
“Okay. I’m only a phone call away if you need anything. ”
“He hovers,” Sidney observes, leaning closer to Maya. “Like a mother hen.”
“He always has,” Maya reminds our sister.
“I’m right here ,” I remind them. “Don’t start talking about me until after I leave.”
They just smile innocently as I wrinkle my nose at them and walk out of Mom’s room. I’m only about twenty feet away from the door when I see Dad walking toward me.
“How is she?” he asks, pausing in front of me. He’s wearing his white coat, and a stethoscope hangs around his neck.
“She’s great,” I reply, glancing back at her door. “She’s in good spirits and doesn’t seem to be in much pain.”
“Good. That’s good. I’m glad they’re staying on top of the pain.”
“Dad, she told me. About the diagnosis.”
He sighs, and his eyes look sad as he slowly shakes his head.
“We were going to tell all three of you together.”
“The girls went down for coffee, and Mom and I were talking. When did you find out?”
Dad firms his chin and looks me squarely in the eyes. “Three weeks ago.”
“Jesus, Dad.”
“We both agreed to do our research, consult with the experts, and have all the information before we talked to you kids. I’m going to go see her before my next procedure. We can talk about this more later. I’ll fill you in on everything I know.”
“Okay. Mom kicked me out to go spend time with Stella.”
He stops and frowns at me. “Who’s Stella?”
I grin. “The most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Sounds like we have plenty to talk about later.”
“Later,” I agree and walk away.
I leave my car with the valet at the resort, walk into the lobby, and pull out my phone to call Stella.
“Well, hello there,” she purrs in my ear.
“Where are you?”
“The resort.”
“Good, because I am, too. What room?”
“You’re in luck. I just finished my massage and am walking up to my room. Forty-three twelve.”
“I’m on my way.”
I click off and head for the bank of elevators. When the car comes, I press the fourth floor and lean against the back wall. I don’t know what it is about elevators, but I’ve wanted to fuck Stella in one since the minute I saw her.
The doors open, and I walk down the hall toward Stella’s room, seeing the woman herself, dressed in a resort robe, about to unlock her door.
“Excellent timing, indeed.”
She raises her head at my voice and smiles, obviously happy to see me.
“You look…delicious,” she decides.
“And you look…rested.”
She laughs and brushes her fingertips over her face. “Do I have massage bed face? I always get creases from that cradle they use. But, honestly, it felt so good, I don’t even care.”
After unlocking the door, I follow her inside, feeling mildly surprised.
It’s a simple space with only a king-sized bed and a step-down to a lounging area that looks out to the lake.
“Why do you look perplexed?” she asks as she steps out of her slippers.
“It’s a regular room. Not a suite.”
“I don’t need a suite. Do you think I need one?”
“No, not at all. It just surprised me that you didn’t go for the fancier room.”
“Why?”
I fold my arms over my chest and smile at her. “Because you’re the woman who arranged for a private jet with a simple phone call yesterday.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m frivolous,” she replies. “Yes, my family is wealthy, but I don’t spend money simply for the sake of spending it.”
“That’s not what I was trying to imply.” I continue smiling at her. “It was just a surprise, that’s all.”
“Maybe I like keeping you on your toes,” Stella suggests and unties the robe, letting it fall open, teasing me with just a peek at her soft skin. The terrycloth covers her breasts, but I can see her pierced navel, and when I step forward, she shrugs off the robe and lets it fall to puddle around her feet.
Her eyes don’t leave mine. Her confidence is so fucking sexy. She takes my breath away.
“What are you thinking?”
“What?” My eyes move to hers. She’s already breathing hard. Her lips are parted, and her eyes are glassy.
“When you look at me like that,” she clarifies and swallows hard. “What are you thinking?”
I don’t touch her. Not yet. I lean in and whisper in her ear, “You, Stella. I’m thinking about you. And all the ways I want to make you scream my name.”
Her gasp is audible, and I can’t keep my hands to myself anymore. I need to touch her more than I need anything else. Her skin is still slick from massage oil.
“You have better hands than the guy who gave me the massage.”
I raise an eyebrow. “The guy ?”
She smirks. “Yes. The guy. Don’t worry, this is an upstanding resort. He was perfectly professional.”
The thought of any man with his hands on her, professional or otherwise, makes my blood boil.
“Are you seriously jealous of a massage therapist ?”
“Lie down.” It isn’t a request, it’s an order, and she does as I ask, climbing onto the bed and then covering her body with the blankets.
“It’s chilly in here,” she explains.
“You won’t be cold for long.”
I tug my sweater over my head and then remove my pants and underwear in one quick motion before joining her in the bed and pulling her close to me. She drapes one leg over my hip and cups my cheek as I kiss her, long and slow.
“You know,” I say before nipping her jawline. “This room was a good idea, after all.”
Stella pushes me onto my back and then straddles me, grinding herself over my cock, moving back and forth and spreading her wetness all over it.
“No need to be quiet here,” she agrees. Her hips pull back, and she takes me inside her and sits in one smooth motion. Stilling, fully seated, she simply squeezes her muscles around me.
“Fuck, I’ll go cross-eyed.”
“I hope not,” she says with a laugh and leans over to kiss me. “It wouldn’t be a good look on you.”
She sits up once more, closes those gorgeous blue eyes, and starts to move , her palms firmly planted on my chest .
My hands grip her hips, my fingertips digging into her flesh as she rides me. Her firm breasts with their tight nipples move just inches from my face, and only a fool would resist taking them into their mouth.
I’m no fucking fool.
“Oh, God, Gray,” she sighs, opens her eyes, and bears down, coming spectacularly. When her quivers subside, I roll her onto her back, pin her hands above her head, and pound into her, unable to go slow or soft. Incapable of making it sweet or gentle.
Her eyes light with excitement as I pound even harder, and when I feel the orgasm move up the base of my spine and through me, she smiles in triumph as I call her name.
Jesus, she’s amazing.
“A massage and incredible sex, all in the same afternoon?” she asks lazily. “Yes, please. Talk about self-care.”
I can’t help but laugh and then kiss her cheek tenderly. “You should be pampered every damn day, Stella.”
“I won’t disagree,” she replies and nips my lower lip. “I almost feel guilty that I haven’t done any work today. Almost.”
“Don’t. I suspect that you put in enough hours to more than make up for a weekday off.”
I roll out of bed, walk to the bathroom to clean myself up, and then wet a washcloth with hot water so I can do the same for my girl.
She lies back and watches me with happy eyes as I press the warm cloth to her, gently caring for her.
“I want you to stay at my parents’ house tonight.” Pleased that she’s comfortable and clean, I toss the cloth and towel I used to dry her onto the floor.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“My mom insisted on it,” I reply and lie down, pulling her against me. “And she wants to meet you before we leave town. You saw the house, Stella. We have plenty of space.”
“I don’t want to intrude,” she says and brushes her cheek against my chest.
“You’re not. Besides, I want you there.”
“Well, okay, then. I’ll stay.”
“Good.”