Chapter 24 Grafton
Grafton
The moment Lynley steps off the bottom stair, I lift the remote and turn the television off.
Her head tips up, warmth-filled eyes meeting mine.
Surprise fills my chest as she comes to sit next to me, her pants-covered leg pressing against mine, her shoulders resting on the arm I have slung over the back of the couch.
She usually tries to keep a little bit of space between us, but the surprise quickly gives way to pleasure as I twine a strand of her dark hair around my finger, tugging it playfully.
“Hello, darling,” I murmur, loving the way the color spreads over her cheeks. “Kids asleep?”
She blows out a breath, a divot forming between her brows as she stares at the black television. “Yeah. It took a little longer than normal. That’s probably to be expected after… Well, after today.”
Her hands are in her lap, and I look down as she twists them together, unable to hide the tremble of her fingers. I reach out, resting my hand over both of hers, holding her steady. She looks up at me, her eyes wide and pleading. “Did I do the right thing?”
Lynley called me from the house after leaving Christopher in the park.
She told me quietly that the kids were distracted with a movie before she recounted everything that happened, her voice quivering with anger.
My own fury had reared its head at the part my niece played in the fiasco, knowingly exposing Mase and Ginny to that goddamn mess.
But I shelved it so I could give Lynley the impartial ear she needed.
When her steam ran out, I quietly asked, “We had plans tonight, but do you need some time?”
“No,” she immediately asserted. “Come over. Please.”
“On my way, darling.”
Mase had been thrilled by the distraction, happy to forget about his father for the time being, but I know it’s never going to be as simple as “out of sight, out of mind.” Christopher’s betrayal wasn’t just against Lynley, but their whole family.
He burned their world to the ground, uncaring of the fallout for his wife and children.
His damage was more than skin-deep, and it would do more harm than good to pretend otherwise.
Ginny… She spent the evening clinging to Lynley like a vine, bursting into tears at the smallest of things.
It wasn’t until we put a movie on, and she cuddled herself in between me and her mom—one of her little hands wrapping around a couple of my fingers while her head rested on Lynley’s shoulder—that she seemed to calm down.
“You did the right thing,” I tell Lynley now.
She wets her lips, eyes shining, the anger giving way to devastation.
I know it’s not about Christopher, secure enough in the knowledge that he took a blowtorch to every single feeling she ever had for him.
This grief is for the loss to her children, their world suddenly unstable and irrevocably changed.
“I never expected him to just give in like that,” she whispers.
“The fact that his image would be more important than his legal rights to his own children? In all of this…this…fuckery”—my lips twitch, but I stifle the amusement—“I never actually expected that he’d just wash his hands of them. How does anyone do that?”
Still holding onto her hands, I slide my other one down her shoulder and arm, tugging her more firmly into me. Her face still grave, she doesn’t resist, sinking into my side as I tuck her as close as I can get her.
“Nothing he does will ever make sense to us, but I know you did the right thing. You know how? Because you protected your babies today. You did the only thing you could in that situation. And his reaction? His choice? That is solely on him. It’s not a reflection of you or the kids.
” She hums thoughtfully, but doesn’t comment, so I continue, “Now, you’ve left that door cracked open—”
“More like a window I can slam shut,” she mutters.
I don’t stop the smile this time. “Now the power is in Mase and Ginny’s hands. They can decide what to do going forward, and what their relationship with Christopher looks like from here on out.”
Her mouth works from side to side. “Ginny’s too young for that. They’re both too young. But Ginny doesn’t understand why any of this is happening, and tonight…” She closes her eyes, pain tightening her features. “She asked me if it was her fault.”
I inhale sharply, fingers tightening around her arm, heart hurting for the little dancer. “It might take time,” I tell her firmly, “but we’ll make it right with her. She’ll know that it was never on her shoulders.”
Lynley’s head tilts down, hiding her expression from me. Her body is so still that I’m not even sure she’s breathing, but she doesn’t leave me waiting for long. “We?”
A low chuckle leaves me. “Yeah,” I confirm huskily. “We. How does that sound to you?”
She looks up at me through her lashes, tongue darting out to swipe over her pink lower lip, and heat surges through my body, heading south. I don’t try to hide my reaction from her, letting the desire shine through my eyes, and her breath catches. “I’m still married.”
“A technicality.” I shift, angling my body toward her, sliding my hand to the back of her neck, gripping firmly.
Her stormy eyes lock with mine. “I’ve been part of a ‘we’ for so long,” she says thoughtfully.
“And I lost myself during that.” Lynley’s lips curve in a wry smile, and I tighten my fingers around her nape, not saying a word.
“I became this passive participant in my own life, letting things happen to me, instead of making things happen.” There’s a suspicious shine to her eyes, but she doesn’t duck her head again, letting me see it all.
Leaning in.
“I found my strength again, these last few months.” Her fingers come up to rest against my cheek, cool and steady. “And it’s because of you, Grafton.”
“No, darling. That strength was always yours. It was just waiting for you to grab onto it.” I lean down and press a lingering kiss to her cheek. “That day I found you outside the agency? That was all you. I just happened to be there to give you a nudge.”
She smiles, eyes bouncing between mine. “I’ve never met anyone like you. So confident in your own skin. Not afraid of owning your place.”
I stroke my knuckles down her cheek, satisfaction blooming when she shivers at the touch. “I have moments of doubt, same as anyone. I’m just very good at ignoring anything that doesn’t give me what I want.”
Her lashes flutter. “And you want me,” she breathes.
“I want you.”
Something challenging flickers through those dark blue orbs. “What if I said I wanted to get a job?”
I lift a brow. “I’d ask, ‘Doing what, and how can I help?’”
She narrows her eyes. “What if I wanted to go back to school?”
My heart twinges because I know it’s a big regret that she dropped out in her last year, choosing to focus on her marriage to Christopher and being a mother to Mase, as well as the expectations that came with marrying into the Delcourt family.
“I’d tell you to do it,” I tell her softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’d set up an office for you to study in, and quiz you before every exam.”
She rolls her lips inward, her pulse thudding rapidly at the base of her throat. “What if I never want to leave Sterling Creek? Even though Christopher is here?”
I lift a shoulder. “The commute isn’t that bad, and I’m sure I’d enjoy working from home some days.”
She draws in a long breath, like she’s trying to steady herself. “What if I said I didn’t want any more children?”
“I’d say,” I say it slowly, clearly, making sure she hears every word and the sincerity behind it, “that there are two beautiful human beings upstairs, and they’re enough.”
Her mouth parts in a silent gasp. “You don’t care if you don’t have biological children?”
I furrow my brow, seriously considering my answer.
“I’ve reached a point in my life where I have accepted that marriage and a family aren’t things for me.
Not because I never wanted them, but because I was never willing to settle.
And then, one day…” I tug her a little closer, leaning down until our breaths mingle.
“One day, I saw this beautiful woman, all dark, glossy hair and a glittery dress. She was staring up at a Christmas tree, the flashing lights dancing over her face, and I was sunk. I took a step toward her, my tongue already tied into knots, and my heart beating out of my chest. I had no idea what I would say or what I should do, but then…”
I grab her left hand in mine, lifting it up and tracing my thumb over her bare ring finger, the tan line from her rings already fading.
“My desire for a family has always been wrapped up in the fantasy of the woman who was meant to be mine. If she wanted children, then so did I. But if she didn’t…
” I shrug again. “I want whatever you’ll give me, darling, because as long as I have you”—I flick my eyes up to the ceiling—“and those two? I’m a happy man. ”
Her lips are trembling, her eyes watery and hopeful. Suddenly, she reaches out and pinches me roughly.
I bark out a laugh, pulling my arm out of her reach. “What was that for?”
“Just checking that you’re real,” she tells me primly, but then she’s lunging forward, wrapping her arms around my neck. I press my temple to hers, hugging her back.
“I’m real, Lynne,” I whisper, turning to press a kiss to her cheek.
At the last moment, she turns her head, and our mouths collide.
I freeze, feeling the softness of her lips under mine, and the way my chest brushes against hers when I inhale, filling my lungs with her.
A beat passes. Another. And then my hand is sliding through her silky strands, cupping the back of her head and holding her still as I slant my mouth against hers, deepening the kiss.
I pull back just enough to mutter, “My Lynne,” our mouths still brushing, each of her breaths rushing over the dampness of my lips. She blinks glazed eyes up at me, her nails scratching lightly at the back of my neck.