CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
It was nightfall by the time he made it home. But he didn’t go in right away. Because it felt strange. There was his house, at night, with the downstairs lit up like a Christmas tree. Lights on everywhere. Even the porch light was on, something he never had any reason to turn on. Somebody was in his home. He had actually invited her in. And he wasn’t at all sure how he felt about such a dramatic shift in his lifestyle.
And what transpired today, first with Celeste and then with that report, didn’t help his mood either.
After a few minutes of just sitting there, he finally went inside.
The first thing that hit him was the smell. The smell of food. And not just any food, but very wonderful-smelling food.
“That you?”
It was Marti’s voice coming from his kitchen.
“Yes, it’s me,” he yelled back.
“I’m in the kitchen!”
He saw his mail sitting on his foyer table as he sat his keys and briefcase down. She had gone down to the end of his driveway and got his mail out of the box. He didn’t know how he felt about that either.
He grabbed the mail and thumbed through it as he made his way to his kitchen. He could tell a difference as he walked through his own home. The entire space looked brighter and airier to him. Cleaner. He went into the kitchen.
As soon as he turned the corner from the dining hall and saw Marti at the stove, her back to him, he stopped in his tracks. She wore shorts and a cut-off t-shirt and her hair hung down her back in waves of curls. He stood there staring at her. And just from that view alone, his heart warmed to her. And when she turned around to look at him, and he saw those big, creamy brown eyes, his heart just melted. He loved her. That was what compelled him to place that word on that note earlier that morning. Because he loved her. He leaned against the archway that led into his big, gourmet kitchen. There was no getting around it.
He remembered what his mother told him years ago when he asked why she stayed with his father, who cheated on her every day of their marriage. “ You can’t help who you love ,” she said to him. “ Don’t fool yourself .”
Hey,” he said to Marti.
Marti was smiling, but when she saw how exhausted he looked her heart went out to him. “You look so tired, Grant,” she said as she removed the pot from the gas burner and turned it off. She began walking to him. “You look like you can barely stand up.”
She wanted to hug him, but she wasn’t sure if he was still pissed with her. So she didn’t initiate it.
Grant wanted her in his arms, too, but he didn’t know if she had reached a different conclusion than he had. He loved her was the conclusion he had reached. No matter what. Did she reach the totally opposite conclusion? “What are you cooking?”
“I’m baking some salmon with roasted potatoes and collard greens.”
“Wow. That sounds delicious.”
“Want me to run you a bath? I think if you soak in the tub for a little while it can refresh you.”
That sounded like a brilliant idea to Grant. “Yes, I think that will help. But you don’t have to do it. I can manage.”
“I don’t mind,” Marti said with a smile. “I just don’t know which room is yours. I checked out the rooms downstairs, but none of those looked lived-in, and I didn’t feel comfortable enough to go upstairs.”
Grant touched her arm. “You can go anywhere you want to go in this house. No space is off limits, you hear me? You can go anywhere.”
Marti nodded. He always looked so sincere about the littlest thing. “Okay. Thank you.”
Then she smiled again as he just stood there staring at her. “Lead the way,” she said, and it appeared only then did he realize that he needed to show her where his room was located.
“Where did you put your things?” he asked her as they began walking out of the kitchen.
“In that first room off from the foyer,” Marti said. “The first one I got to. I assumed it was a guest room.”
“It is,” Grant said. But instead of going upstairs where Marti assumed he was going to go, he went to the room she’d just mentioned. He placed his mail in his suit coat and grabbed the luggage she had sitting on the bed.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re going to be upstairs with me,” he said.
But Marti stopped his progression by moving in his path. They were face to face, within a few inches of each other. “Upstairs with you,” she said, “but in my own room, right?”
He stood there staring at her. “Is that what you want?”
“That’s what I need, yes,” she said. “We still have things to work out before we go full bore.” Then she stared deeply into his tired eyes. “Don’t you think?”
He knew what she said was true. But he also knew she might be having loads of doubts about him. Which only made her statement even truer. “Yes,” he said with a nod. “Upstairs with me, but in your own room.”
She smiled, and he managed to return her smile. Then he led her upstairs to the master bedroom. It was a wow moment for Marti because his bedroom seemed larger than any she’d ever seen. “This is a lot,” was all she could manage to say.
“The bathroom is in there,” he said, pointing to her left.
“Can you show me to my room,” she said, “then I can run your bath without bothering you afterwards.”
“This is your room,” Grant said as if it went without saying.
Marti knew this could not possibly be a guest room. “But this is your room,” she said.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to intrude on your territory. I’ll take one of the guest rooms up here. I have plenty.”
“Yes, but, this is the master bedroom.”
“That’s correct.”
“I don’t want to take your room. A guest room is plenty for me.”
“There’s no way.”
Marti was puzzled. “What do you mean there’s no way?”
“You will sleep in the best room in this house always. And this is the best room in this house bar none. There’s no way I’m sleeping better than you.”
Marti found herself overwhelmed with emotion. For a man to give her the best he had was so new to her that it staggered her. And the tears appeared in her eyes.
When Grant saw those tears in her huge eyes, his heart melted again. And he dropped her bags and pulled her into his arms.
When she wiped her eyes with the handkerchief he provided to her, she pulled back and looked at him. He kept his arms around her waist. “Just thinking enough of me to invite me into your home when I know you don’t do that was monumental for me. But to do this? To give me your best like this?” She shook her head as the tears began to return. “You don’t have to do this, Grant. You’ve done so much.”
She was about to wipe her eyes again but he stopped her by grabbing her hand. “I haven’t even scratched the surface. And don’t you ever think I’ve ever done everything I can do for you because I don’t think that’s possible. Yes, we have things to work out. Yes, I’m sure you have your doubts. I have mine too,” he said. “But don’t ever doubt how I feel about you because I’m going to make that clear to you.”
Marti was so happy when he said he could never do enough for her, but then she became confused and scared when he said he had doubts too. And then he said he was going to make himself clear to her. But make clear what? What was he going to make clear? Was he going to say he loved her, or that he didn’t? Was he going to say their relationship stood a chance, or not any at all? Her entire body was suddenly a bundle of nerves.
Until he said those three words.
He placed his hands on both sides of the face he thought was the most adorable he’d ever faced. “I love you,” he said with such conviction in his heart that it felt as if he’d known her a lifetime.
When those words came, all of those nerves drifted away and Marti’s heart soared. “I love you, too, Grant,” she said to him. “I love you too!” And they kissed a kiss that for the first time was more about their love for each other than just their lust.
But that didn’t mean they didn’t end up in bed. They did, after she had drawn Grant’s bath, they bathed together, and after they had eaten her delicious dinner.
But first Grant caught her at her own game. They made their way upstairs, arm in arm, but when they got to the master bedroom, Grant didn’t go inside. “Good night,” he said to her, pecked her on her cheek, and then headed for the guest room where he was going to be staying.
He could tell she was still just standing there, probably confused, but he kept on walking and went to his room, removed his robe, and got in his bed. He was inwardly laughing all the way. Because he felt he knew her. Because he felt she wore her feelings on her sleeve and he could tell she was feeling the fire tonight.
And just as he had predicted, within minutes of their departure, he could hear his bedroom door creak open, he could hear her walking on the back side of his bed, and he could hear her get in his bed.
He turned around suddenly, holding his covers up to his bare chest. “What’s the meaning of this?” he said as if she was there to violate him.
She looked puzzled. “But I thought,” she began to say, worried that she had misread the room completely, until she could see he was unable to keep his composure and a smile broke through. And then great laughter. She hit him so hard that he thought she meant it. And then they both were laughing. And tickling each other.
And then, ultimately, back in the master bedroom in their bed now, they made love. Long, wonderful, passionate love.
But afterwards, when the euphoria had died down and it was just the two of them, side by side, staring into the darkness of the room, Marti had to ask it. “Who was that woman this morning?”
It wasn’t as if he didn’t expect the question to eventually come up. “Celeste,” he said.
“That’s her name, okay. But who is she to you?”
Grant exhaled. “A friend.” Then he added, “Who used to have benefits.”
“Used to have?” Marti looked at him.
He looked at her. “Yes.”
“When did these benefits stopped?”
“Since I met you.”
“But I mean how long before you met me did they stop?” In other words, she thought, when was the last time you slept with this Celeste? Given how angry she was, it had to be recently.
“A few days before,” he admitted, although he would have rather not. But Marti was a smart girl. She knew what questions to ask.
“That’s what I call the ink not yet dry for her,” Marti said.
“For her. But it’s bone-dry for me.”
Marti could have smiled, but somebody else’s loss and pain, because she could tell Celeste loved Grant, wasn’t something she was going to celebrate. “Is that a part of this?”
Grant didn’t follow her. “A part of what? You and me?”
“The fact that you said for my safety you wanted me to stay at your house?”
Grant stared at her. “No. This has nothing to do with that.”
“Then who should I fear if not one of your scorned women? Because I’m sure there’s more to come.”
Grant knew it too. “I just didn’t want any rogue cop to think they could take any liberties with you and try, under the guise of their badge, to harass you because of that report. That’s what I meant.”
“Is there anyone in particular I should be concerned about?”
“None of them. I’ve personally spoken to all of the principals to notify their underlings who might think they’re doing their boss’s bidding by harassing you.”
Marti was touched. “You’ve spoken to all of them on my behave?”
“Yes.”
“They don’t view you as a traitor?”
Grant hadn’t even thought about that. “I don’t care if they do or not,” he said. “Changes have got to be made. And it’s going to begin with me.”
Marti smiled, kissed him, and then cuddled up against him. They interlaced their fingers.
“Bet you can’t go another round,” he said to her.
Marti looked at him. He had the libido of a teenager! “No more rounds,” she said, shutting it down for the night. “You need your rest.”
Grant smiled, because she was so right. And once again, they both slept the sleep of two truly happy people. It was a remarkable turnaround for two lonely, tortured souls.
But they couldn’t be anything but who they were. And because they were so unaccustomed to peace and happiness that they couldn’t help but wait for, depend on, peep around corners looking for, the next shoe to drop.