34. Grady
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Grady
The slamming door rattles the house and shakes me to my core. I close my eyes to the aching finality of it. She’s not the door-slamming type, but that’s how much I’ve hurt her. In a breath, I race through the living room, but only to see her disappear onto the main road, top-down, her lovely red hair flying behind her.
It’s too late. She shouldn’t give me another chance anyway. I busy myself in the kitchen, burying my emotions behind tasks.
But when I hear the front door reopen, I rush to meet her, desperate to wrap her in my arms and apologize until she tells me to stop.
Only it’s not her. I’m sucker-punched with sharp disappointment.
Mom and Elena stare me down critically until Mom says, “Grady, what’s happened?”
“Why are you here?” I demand instead, returning to the kitchen.
“We brought dessert,” Mom says, holding a covered casserole dish.
“And wine,” Elena offers, holding up a bottle.
“When Marigold said you were having a dinner party, we thought we’d swing by with a sweet treat to end the evening,” Mom says, setting her dish on the kitchen island.
I huff. “They told you?”
“Yep, and we couldn’t miss this disaster,” Elena laughs. “Where’s Marnie? Is she onto your ridiculous plan yet?”
“She’s gone.”
My mom and aunt share a concerned glance before Elena helps herself to wine glasses, and Mom unveils her pineapple cake. “Well, we’re here, so you might as well tell us what happened.”
Marigold and Gil enter from the porch with the dogs, graciously taking attention away from me.
“Where’s Marnie? I want to take her to the pier and put on my best moves,” Gil grins.
“Gone,” Mom chirps. “Your brother’s self-sabotage is complete.”
“Don’t blame her for leaving after the piano incident,” Gil explains everything Marina said and how upset she was.
“She’s so right about you, Grady,” Mom says.
“Now, she feels like that piano,” Elena tacks on.
“Look, the party’s over,” I decide, holding my hands up to usher them all to the door. “I don’t want to talk about it. You all need to go.”
“Grady, dessert!” Marigold orders, pointing at Mom’s cake. “You can’t leave a party without having dessert, remember?”
I sigh with resignation.“Yes, Marigold. You’re right. Please, have dessert. But the rest of you?—”
“Grady, you’re upset.” Mom rests her hand on my arm in an attempt to be soothing. “Maybe we can help, huh?”
I press my lips together defiantly. If I can’t talk to Marina, I’m certainly not talking to them. They pipe in with advice anyway, barely taking turns with shit like “Stop being afraid of love,” and “You shouldn’t be alone forever.” I hardly listen. Platitudes won’t help me scale the walls I’ve worked so hard to build or wrestle my shame over screwing this up.
But the simple truth might.
“If you like her, you should tell her,” Marigold says, her mouth full of cake. “Marnie’s upset. You should make her feel better. It’s like her games. She wants someone to play with, and she wants it to be you. So, why not play? Don’t you want to make her happy?”
“Yes, Marigold. Of course, I do,” I sputter.
“Then, take her some cake,” Marigold advises. “It’s very good.”
“Fine.”
Mom prepares a cake slice to-go while Elena initiates a long list of pointers for winning Marina back—not that I listen. I grab my keys and the airtight container and ignore their little pep talks as I race to the door.
It’s dark when I pull beside her truck in the driveway. Warm glows emanate from her windows, and her shadow moves across the living room. I grab my apology cake and approach the door. She swings it open before I knock.
She looks surprised, pained, and unsure all at once. Her hair is piled atop her head in a messy bun. Her shoes are off, but she still wears the pink blouse and jean skirt. She twiddles with her necklace.
“Marina, I’m a fucking numpty.”
Laughs bubble through her distress like sunshine through a cloud. “You are a numpty.”
I shrug lightly. “I wanted it to be the two of us, but overthinking got the better of me. I thought I might be doing you a favor, easing you back into dating with someone I know is a good guy.”
She leans against the doorjamb, arms folded across her pink blouse, and blows a lock of hair out of her eyes. “ You’re a good guy.”
“I didn’t think you’d want me. Or, at least, didn’t think you should.”
“Damn it, Grady. You don’t get to decide that. I don’t want another Tripp or anyone else. I want you . Just tell me—what is it about me? Am I too young? Too broken? Too much of a bad reminder? Truth. What’s holding you back?”
I take a breath, if only to gather strength to say it. “I’m falling hard and fast, and it’s making me dizzy. Nothing makes sense. How can I curse the day I hurt you and be grateful for it at the same time? How could you even want me after everything? You are so loving, so forgiving, and so beautifully, unequivocally, perfectly you . Marina, you’re everything I want, exactly as you are—and that scares the hell out of me. I’m sorry for that shitshow. Sorry for pulling away. Sorry that I let you think for a second that you aren’t enough for me. You are more than enough. You’re everything to me. Truly.”
She takes me in, tilts her head to one side, and nibbles her bottom lip. Meanwhile, my heart rams in my chest, waiting for her to say something. She doesn’t smile, and finally delivering the words I’ve wanted to say doesn’t feel like enough.
“I brought you dessert, if that helps,” I say, offering her the container.
She takes it, setting it on a side table next to her. “It doesn’t hurt.”
“Give me another chance. A real date tomorrow night, just you and me—I promise.”
Her brow pinches as she glances from the porch floorboards back to me. “You’re falling for me?”
“Darling, how could I not be?” I breathe out in a sigh. “You had me at eep , and a hundred times after that. You had me the second you fell into my arms.”
She laughs, her eyes rolling to fight back the tears I see welling in them. “Kiss me, then, you numpty.”
Relief sweeps me as I close the distance between us, but I don’t kiss her yet. My hands tangle with hers before my fingers drift up her arms slowly, softly, and then trace her collarbone across her shoulders.
Her breathing quickens as my thumbs roll over her cheeks and my fingers circle her neck. Maybe I’m overthinking, wanting to savor this. But her hands rise to my forearms, and she explores me with touches, too. My forehead rests against hers, taking her in until we’re breathless and desperate.
She smiles, and I smile back, and my lips land on hers like that. Smiling.
Soft and sweet eases into intense in a breath—her lips are a delicate comfort and driving force at once. She plays me like a game that she knows exactly how to win. And I’m happy to surrender. A light bite on my bottom lip has me melting into her, and when her tongue playfully finds mine, I moan over how good it feels.
Her hands drift over my chest, tugging my shirt to pull me closer. My hands wrap her up, tightening us together, feeling all her glorious curves pressed against me.
It’s not just a kiss. It’s the kiss to end all others. The last first kiss.
She pushes me against the opposite doorjamb, taking over and making us laugh at her unrestrained aggression. I fucking love it. She’s beautifully confident and unhindered. I expected sweet and amenable, not to be turned inside out by how unbelievably sexy this is. She moans against my lips and whispers my name like a prayer.
“Falling even faster now,” I say.
“I’ll catch you,” she promises, and I believe her. All my insecurities and fears melt away in the warmth of her arms and the strength of her promise. I have no doubts anymore.
She must think the same when she says, “Want to come in?”
I rest my forehead against hers, and I ache to say yes. “If I do, I won’t leave.”
She smirks. “I know.”
I groan, considering it. “I want you so fucking bad but… Say yes to tomorrow night and no to me right now.”
“Yes. And why?” Her brow cocks in suspicion—the same reaction she had when she learned about my unplayed piano.
“This isn’t me ignoring a beautiful opportunity, Marina. This is me savoring the hell out of it. Take me inside with you, and I won’t hold back. I will worship you until there’s nothing left.”
A breathless sigh escapes her. “Why would I say no to that?”
“Because I don’t want it to be the nightcap to my fuck-up. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You deserve more. Let me make this right,” I tell her, however much my body protests against saying it. “Or take me inside. Either way, I win. Your choice.”
She chews her bottom lip, scrutinizing me with her dreamy eyes. Slowly, she eases away from me. “Better make our date good, Tripp Grady Tripp. No freak-outs allowed.”
“Aye, Captain. How early can I pick you up?”
“For dinner?”
“For whatever I plan. How early?”
Her lips curl like she enjoys the mystery. “Um, three?”
“I’ll be here at three.”
“I’ll be ready.”
“Enjoy your dessert, Marina.”
“Already have… oh, wait, you mean the cake. Right,” she grins. “Oh, I will.”
I lean close for a quick kiss before saying, “Good night.”
“Good night, Grady.”
I ache, leaving her. I love her like this. Her flushed cheeks, swollen lips, dewy skin, and giddy smile make me desperate to make her happy. Starting with the perfect date.