Chapter 15
Isubconsciously held my breath and somehow managed to keep my hands at my sides instead of shoving them into Gray’s chest when he leaned closer to murmur, “As always, Peach, I’m happy to tell you, your dad’s the worst.”
Shock stole through me at the assumption that was delivered with every confidence, as if he’d somehow known without needing me to confirm where my thoughts had gone.
But even as wonder started weaving through all that surprise, I couldn’t help but notice the pain still lingering in Gray’s eyes as he quickly pulled back and glanced away, like he no longer knew how to even be near me.
Funny how I’d felt the same at the festival, yet at the same time, I’d been—and still was—wholly wrecked because I didn’t know how to live without Hudson Gray.
I’d already tried for three months, and it’d turned me into the worst version of myself.
Gray cleared his throat before tipping his head in my direction. “Ready?”
“For what?”
The corner of his mouth twitched into a brief, weighted smile as he looked more fully at me and caught me up on what I must have missed when I’d gotten trapped in all those feel-good memories.
“I’m gonna take you home, then see if Briggs will let me come back and help out for a few days, since I’m on a desk anyway. ”
I swallowed past the knot that had formed at some point between Gray shifting away from me and realizing that everyone else in the kitchen had fallen uncomfortably silent as they watched us.
“Help out with the potential Donut?” With Tessa?
At his confirming grunt, I gave a subtle shake of my head and offered, “I should do it. I’m off for two weeks anyway. ”
Gray’s lips parted to argue, but he pressed them firmly together and glanced at the people gathered around us before jerking his head just past me. “We’ll be back,” he muttered to his cousins and their wives as he started past me, not waiting to see if I would follow.
But years of us meant I did without hesitation.
As soon as I stepped onto the porch and into the oppressively humid air from the overcast day, Gray stepped close and reminded me, “You’re only off because you’re trying to quit.”
I lifted my chin and countered, “Still free to do whatever. Which means, I can do this.”
His head bobbed a few times before he challenged, “And why would you want to?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I shot back, only to continue without thinking. “This is what I do.”
Gray’s expression slowly shifted into something like hope as he waited for me to realize what I’d just admitted to.
But I’d heard the words as they’d left me. I’d clamped my mouth shut as soon as I’d finished speaking and had been clenching my teeth since.
Instead of calling me out on the slip, Gray said, “Let me rephrase, Peach . . . Why would you want to take this one?” Before I could respond, he took a step closer, so we were nearly touching, and lowered his voice. “Why don’t you want me to take it?”
I held his stare, fully aware he already knew why: because I’d been subjected to his past with Tessa more times than I cared to remember.
Usually by way of her recalling their nights together in front of me, but also because the girl liked to make Gray catch her, similar to today, and wasn’t afraid to show exactly how much she’d missed him.
But my wounded heart and guarded self didn’t know how to admit any of that.
“Because I’m already off, and you aren’t.”
His head subtly bobbed before the softest pressure skimmed across my palm, stealing my breath and lighting up every nerve ending all over again.
And I went utterly still so I wouldn’t do something I’d regret. Like shove him away . . . or turn into Tessa. I just existed in this moment where Hudson Gray was tormenting me with feather soft touches and looking at me like I was the only one he wanted to look at.
When Gray spoke next, his voice was a rough whisper. “Tell me the real reason, Mallory.”
My heart gave another one of those traitorous hiccups at the sound of my name before taking off in a full sprint, because I had no idea what would leave my lips when they parted.
Because the real reason was purely selfish, and I was terrified for him to know it. I was terrified for him to know I hated every woman he’d chosen over me, and that I’d hate knowing he was here, in Amber, with Tessa—the only woman I knew of who he’d gone back to again and again.
And yet, as my mouth finally opened with a breath that felt like defeat, that was the only thought on my mind.
But just as the first words started scraping up my constricted throat, Gray’s phone rang. Snapping me from the moment and forcing me back a step as I slid my hand from his.
Other than the slight hardening of his jaw, Gray didn’t move. But the disappointment that flashed through his eyes said everything and had my stomach dipping with that storm of emotions I’d been trapped in for days now.
It didn’t matter that I’d wanted these little touches for far too long, or that I’d wanted him to look at me the way he had been. This was Gray . . . Gray. I’d been forced to watch him with so many others over the years when I’d been right there.
Gray reached into his pocket long enough to decline the call. But in the time it took him to run a hand through his hair and release an uneasy breath, his phone began ringing again.
At that, those eyes flashed to me as he quickly reached for his pocket again. An intriguing mixture of apology and determination swirled within the curiosity there before he released a low, “It’s Briggs.”
“Answer it.”
His throat shifted with a forced swallow as his gaze drifted my way again. And I knew in the way he was looking at me that he was contemplating ignoring the call—that he was worried we’d never get back to the conversation otherwise.
But I was no longer ready to voice the thoughts I’d just come so close to, so I nodded toward the phone and repeated, “Answer it.”
With a nearly indiscernible shift of his jaw, Gray tapped on the screen before lifting the phone to his ear.
Rocking back a step, his mouth twitched as if he was trying to force it from the frown it’d fallen into. “I was actually about to call you,” he said in greeting as his mint green eyes flashed my way. “How bad do you want me at that desk?”
I straightened at the seemingly innocent question because I knew—I knew—what he would say next.
Whether he truly intended to, or he was just trying to get an honest answer out of me, he was about to ask for the Donut.
“Absolutely not,” I hissed as I erased the small distance I’d placed between us, already reaching for his phone.
But Gray was prepared—of course, he was.
He grabbed my outstretched hand and twisted it until he had my entire arm bent behind my back, using it to turn me in the opposite direction, all while he told Briggs, “I want permission to take on a Donut in Amber.”
A grunt barreled from him when I used my free arm to elbow low on his stomach, but he just wheezed, “My family brought it to my attention. Monroe plans on taking it.”
The next thing I knew, one of his feet was sweeping mine right out from under me as he used all his weight to fall forward.
With me underneath him.
I bit back a curse and braced as Gray did the same. Bear-hugging me from behind and rolling as soon as we hit the unforgiving wooden porch before quickly shifting until he had me pinned.
“Just how I like you,” he teased, prompting an enraged sound to crawl up my throat as I tried throwing him off. But his knees just dug harder into my forearms as he leaned over and grabbed for his phone that must’ve gotten lost sometime between us hitting the porch and Gray getting the upper hand.
Putting the call on speaker, Gray sent me a look that was devastating to my resolve. “Sorry, there was . . . a situation,” he said with a tilt of his lips. “Say that part again.”
I had the strongest urge to slap him when the smirk caused one of his dimples to grace me with a hello.
Stupid dimples. Stupid smirk. Stupid fluttering stomach and traitorous heart.
A very Briggs-like sigh sounded. “Monroe,” he muttered in greeting but didn’t wait for me to respond before continuing. “Gray, whatever the Donut is, just get as much information as you can. I need—” He released a sharp exhale. “Gray, I need you back here.”
Us.
He needed us back there, I realized, as all those ridiculous flutterings were replaced with a growing pit.
Gray intently studied my face, clearly wondering if I’d caught that too and what I was thinking about it. But he just asked, “What’s happening?”
Briggs hesitated for a moment. “Ears?”
“Just Monroe,” Gray answered before quickly amending, “But my family’s just inside.”
A grunt sounded through the phone. “We got a call from North Carolina,” Briggs said vaguely. “There’s something they need us to take care of. Here. It takes priority over Donuts.”
Gray’s head dipped. “Understood.”
“We’re meeting as soon as you can get here,” Briggs said pointedly. “So, get here.”
But Gray didn’t make any attempt to move from where he was still pinning me to the porch. He just continued studying me as he took slow, calculated breaths. “And Monroe?”
Silence greeted us for long moments before Briggs relented, “Monroe knows where I want her. She can do what she wants.” Never actually speaking to me, even though he knew I was right there.
I steeled my jaw when wants and needs clashed, making my chest ache as indecision warred.
From Gray’s expression, he was worried about what I would decide. “Be at the office in a little over an hour,” he muttered before ending the call. Then his voice lowered as he seemed to bare his soul in a simple but profound request. “Don’t make me do this without you.”
My eyes widened and my heart fumbled all over itself at the depth of his plea.
“Every detail I’ve been forced to do without you has felt wrong.
My life feels wrong when you aren’t there,” he corrected with a subtle slant of his head.
“Which means so much about these last three months have felt wrong. Don’t make me miss this time with you that I just got, when you and I both know this is about to take all my time. ”
“You forced me to give you this time,” I reminded him, the words breathless and embarrassingly hopeful. “Also, it kinda feels like you’re cutting off blood flow.”
But the less-than brilliant response somehow earned me a brief, heart-stopping smile.
Still, instead of rushing to remove where his knees were pinning my arms down, Gray took his time moving as he countered, “You agreed to these two weeks,” being careful to switch out each knee with one of his hands and keeping his body far enough up on my torso, like he was sure I’d try to remove him at the first opportunity.
I wasn’t sure I could do anything at all with how jumbled my thoughts were.
“Don’t make me do this without you,” he repeated in a deceptively soft voice that seemed to speak to my very soul.
And I just lay there, staring up at this man I’d known for so long. This man I’d loved and agonized over. Who I’d laughed and fought with—who I’d broken over again and again. This man, who was talking to me and looking at me in a way he never had before.
And like the truly inept female I was, I skipped right past every confession and plea, and blurted out, “We need to leave.”
Gray waited, as if some part of him was desperately hoping for something else—even if just to say I’d go to Shadow with him—before he eventually gave a resigned dip of his head and pushed away from me.
“I’ll, uh . . . I’ll let everyone know we’re headed out,” he mumbled before walking toward the front door.
Swallowing past the knot of emotion in my throat, I stayed in place until the storm door shut behind Gray, then pushed to sitting and struggled to blink away the quick and hot tears blurring my vision.
I only allowed myself to cry when I was truly alone, and yet, there I was, vainly battling the weight in my stomach and the iron fists squeezing my lungs because he’d just spoken to me in a way that went so far past that Hudson Gray charm, and I’d more or less ignored it because I’d panicked.
At the sound of the storm door opening again, I hurriedly swiped at the lone tear that had managed to slip free. But the voice that sounded didn’t warm me from the inside, was only vaguely familiar, and was decidedly not male.
“So, how long have you been in love with Hudson?”