15. Then
FIFTEEN
then
Sometime between Gray hanging up and my six a.m. alarm, the seasons clicked over.
Saturday morning dawned with a chill that swirled through the air and stuck to the sidewalks. The perfect morning for a hot cup of coffee, which meant work would surely be insane.
It was hard enough knowing how to dress for a busy shift on a cold day without the whole going-on-a-date-afterward situation. I wound up in a pair of gray leggings and a huge, slouchy sweater I’d knitted out of a spool of soft navy wool.
Eyeing my clogs longingly, I tugged on a pair of Mag’s gray suede booties. I didn’t know much about dating—and even less about dating someone like Gray—but I knew one thing from Maggie’s relentless crusade against my comfy green shoes: they weren’t sexy.
And I was almost mostly sure I wanted Gray to find me sexy.
The cold subway was quiet and mostly empty. I spent the whole ride thinking about how Grayson acted on the phone. He clearly understood me, even when I didn’t. And he was so sexy and composed—equal parts heat and cool. The enigmatic combination devastated my self-control.
I wanted him, but I had no idea how to want him without completely freaking out. For the first time in a long time, looping yarn through my needles did nothing.
Luckily, work was as crazy as I anticipated. My shift flew by in a rush of pumpkin-spice-everything. The espresso machine whirled constantly, steam billowing every time I made a macchiato or a latte.
“Ella!” My manager appeared by my shoulder, scowling. “Your shift is up. And there’s a guy at the counter who’s asking for you and staring at your ass. Stalker or date?”
I whirled to find Gray, holding his phone but most definitely focused on my butt instead. When he noticed me watching, he rubbed at the back of his neck with one of his wry smirks.
A laugh blurted out of me as I cocked my hip at him. “A little of one and a lot of another,” I joked, pulling my apron off and turning to conceal my butt from scrutiny.
Gray flashed his Prince Charming smile, sending a flurry through my insides. His face was so handsome; I almost didn’t notice his casual clothes. While I rounded the counter, I nodded at his charcoal thermal shirt and jeans. “Where are your slacks?”
He came close enough for me to smell the warm cologne on his neck. Green eyes shone down at me. “I gave them the day off. What I have planned for us is a little too… messy.”
The suggestive timbre of his voice suggested sex, which should have sent me back into panic mode. But between his scent, his eyes, and the way his Henley stretched over his muscled shoulders, pheromones bathed my brain, turning it to mush. And the thought of messy sex made my stomach clench.
Then, he pulled it out.
Huge, squat, and bright orange.
Another laugh sprang up my throat, breaking our sexual tension. “ What is that ?”
He shrugged, employing his rueful grin. “A pumpkin.” Reaching behind himself again, he presented me with a bundle of newspaper. “I told you this would be messy.”
The gourd looked bigger around than I was. I tilted my head. “Are we going to eat it?” I asked, incredulous.
His low chuckle warmed the inside of my chest, and his laugh lines made him impossibly more handsome. “We’re going to carve it.”
I giggled. “Where are we going to go to carve a pumpkin?”
Gray balanced the orange giant under the crook of one arm and wound the other around my waist, pulling me toward the exit. “I told you,” he said, casting a glowing green glance over at me. “I have a plan.”
Ten minutes—and a lot of what-the-heck looks from passersby—later, Grayson steered me and our pumpkin into Golden Swan Garden.
My eyes flew to his.
“You said you’ve always wanted to go in,” he reminded me, shoving the black iron gate open with his back. His expression flipped from soft to taunting. “So, come in.”
I had passed the little corner hundreds of times. It was only a few dozen feet of walkable space—but I was always too busy, too late, too tired, or too distracted to go through.
With cracked sidewalks and black iron benches, the little corner seemed torn from another time; an era when people strolled arm-in-arm and stopped to sit with the seasons.
It was the perfect day to be there. All the plants were still in summer bloom, even as autumn settled over us. I knew the flowers would die and the trees would start to change color within the week, but, for the moment, the garden remained perfectly lush under the swirl of the new season.
“All right,” Gray said, choosing a spot off the center of the walkway. He took the newspaper from me and started to spread it over a patch of grass. “Here.”
Still in disbelief, I sank to my knees across from him and took another moment to soak in our surroundings. When I turned, I found Gray studying me with an intoxicating combination of heat and tenderness.
“Ella,” he murmured, forcing my gaze to his. Our connection clicked back into place while we stared. Warmth flooded through my belly. “You’re gorgeous.”
I wanted to laugh him off. I felt frizzy and overly dewy from hours in front of the espresso machine. And I surely smelled like a pumpkin pie candle someone had sprinkled with coffee grounds.
But it was impossible to deny the depth in his eyes, the lust tempered by scorching sincerity.
I ducked my head while my face flamed. “Thanks,” I replied lamely. Then babbled on, “I didn’t know what to wear. I usually don’t dress for work, cold weather, and a date all at once. I did know better than to wear the clogs, though, but now my feet are killing me.”
His sculpted lips quirked. He ran his eyes down my throat—over to where the wide neck of my sweater exposed my collarbone and shoulder—before they flickered back to mine, still blazing.
“You are horrible at taking compliments,” he pointed out, unbothered. “You’ll have to get better. Because I don’t think I’m going to stop.”
I fought the urge to gulp. “What about you?” I retorted. “I bet you get embarrassed when someone fawns over you, too.”
After a second, his thick brows drew together. “I don’t know, actually. Girls don’t really give guys compliments like that.”
“Huh. Well that’s not fair.” I kneeled up and leaned toward him, pretending to inspect his face. “Your eyes are obviously”—words failed me for a second—“Incredible. Which really isn’t fair, considering all of”—I waved my hand around his head—“This.”
He cocked an eyebrow, bemused. “All of what?”
Rolling my eyes, I ran my fingers over his sharp jaw. A light shadow of stubble chafed my fingertips, sending quivers through my core.
“This,” I said again, my voice softening as I touched the hollow under his cheekbone. “You have the most handsome face in Manhattan.”
My hand drifted up to his glossy dark hair. “Not to mention, I’ve only seen hair like this in cologne ads. Or on the covers of cheesy romance novels.”
Gray didn’t move a muscle, but his eyes followed mine while I traced my gaze over his features. The buzz between us drew me closer until I felt the heat of his throat on my face.
When I realized how close we were, I forgot I was supposed to be making a point. He seemed just as distracted, watching my mouth until I pulled my lower lip between my teeth.
His quiet groan gave me goosebumps. “ Ella .”
The next thing I knew, he’d tugged me into his lap and sealed his mouth over mine.
I went into sensory overload. My muscles locked in place while my brain completely whirred to a halt. And, for a moment, I was just sensation .
The feel of his lips surrounding mine, the tingle of stubble against my chin. The way he cradled my back in one arm and reached his free hand up to touch my hair.
Gray groaned again sliding his tongue against mine in a long, slow glide. Instantly, my nipples pricked.
Like he somehow knew, his fingers followed a lock of my hair down to my chest, grazing the outline of my breast through my sweater. My core tightened while warmth spread out from my center, pooling in my panties.
The sound that rose from my throat startled me. Gray’s grip tightened. A growl built in his chest. His answering kisses were deeper, less controlled. His tongue wrapped around mine and slipped over it again. He stroked his fingertips along the curve of my bra until I moaned some more.
“Jesus,” he muttered, breaking away breathlessly. “You have to stop making that noise or I’m going to get arrested for fucking you in this park.”
His crude assertion should have turned me off, but it had me pressing my legs together instead. A cold breeze blew through the garden. I shivered in his arms, huddling closer to his hard heat.
Each time I shifted in his lap, he winced. It took me a minute to figure out why. My face burned.
“Oh,” I gasped, moving to get off him. “Sorry.”
“Uhn-uhn,” he replied, holding me tighter. “Come here.”
The world shifted as he lowered me onto our pumpkin-carving newspaper and settled alongside me. Lying near him felt so natural, even more so when he gathered me against his chest and tilted my chin up, considering my face for a long moment.
Sunlight filtered through the trees behind him, bathing his dark head and perfect features. I stared, unable to help myself. He was impossible to believe—a dream.
How did I find him?
I touched his hair, slipping my fingers through the sun-warmed strands. His eyes closed for a second. When they snapped back open, a new kind of fire rimmed the green irises .
“I don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he muttered.
Before I could think about what he meant, he resumed kissing me, as desperate for the feel of my lips as I was for his.
He kept his hands outside my clothes, stroking my back, the side of my neck, the space between my breasts. I didn’t have as much self-control; when the side of his Henley slipped up, my fingers followed the fabric, feeling the hard, golden flesh above his hip.
Gray’s throat rumbled when I glided my hand higher, following the line of his spine. He softly bit down on my lower lip, and I flexed my fingers, scratching his bare skin.
His hips bucked against mine. “God, Ella.”
The blood thrumming in my ears echoed the pound in my core. I wriggled, uncomfortable with the wetness gathering between my thighs. He bit my lip again, brushing his fingertips over one of my breasts at the same moment, and I whimpered into his mouth.
He murmured my name again, running his hand up and down my leg. My thighs trembled every time his touch came close to the place to my center.
“Gray,” I whispered urgently, edging on desperation.
He smiled against my lips. “I know. We have to stop. Or at least go somewhere private.”
Go somewhere private …
For sex.
I was so consumed by my body’s reaction to him, I hadn’t even paused to consider what we were building up to. Part of it wasn’t even my fault—it was him. He had me so turned on, I couldn’t remember to be terrified.
Now, I remembered.
“We could… carve the pumpkin?”
He blew out a breath, rolling onto his back. “Good idea,” he exhaled, closing his eyes. “Just give me a minute.”
I needed one, too. My entire body felt like a bundle of live wires, thrumming with electric need. I sat up and looked around for something to distract myself from the puddle in my panties.
No one could see us—not that it mattered at that point. The thought of someone watching mortified me, but it wouldn’t stop me from doing it again if I didn’t clear my head.
After a few seconds, I looked back down at Grayson. With his shirt pulled up around the hard ridges of his abs, a noticeable erection pressing against his jeans, and his muscled arms up over his head, he looked more beautiful than ever.
Cracking one eye open, he caught me staring and flashed an unapologetic half-grin. “You’re killing me,” he grunted, then glanced down at the bulge in his pants. “I could drive nails right now. And that look isn’t helping.”
I probably looked crazy from lust, but I couldn’t figure out how to turn it off . Embarrassed, I hung my head to hide my face from his view.
“Hey.” Gray hoisted himself up. His warm palm pressed against my jaw, bringing my chin back up. “You’re perfect. I only meant—I’ve never been this turned on from kissing anyone. And every time I look at you, it hits me all over again.”
Our gazes locked. I sunk into the green. “What hits you?”
“How gorgeous you are,” he told me, entirely earnest. A glimmer sparked in his eyes. “How much I like you.”
He leaned in and I held my breath, waiting to feel his mouth again. Instead, he reached around me and hauled the giant pumpkin into his lap.
“Here.” He situated the gourd between us. “This can be our buffer.”
I eyed the pumpkin skeptically. “Did you bring any tools?” I asked and nodded at the outline in his pants. “Or are we using that ?”
Gray’s laugh was quickly becoming my favorite sound. And I loved the way it made his eyes crinkle. “I have a pocketknife, smartass.”
He patted his pockets before extracting a steel handle with his initials embossed along the edge— GFS . I wondered what the “F” stood for.
“Okay,” he said, considering the task at hand. “What do we do?”
I giggled. “You mean you bought this thing, and you don’t know how to carve it?”
Gray rubbed the back of his neck. “I figured you would know. You’re from the suburbs. And you told me that story about Halloween with Darcy.”
He had listened, even when I was rambling like an idiot over waffles. “All right,” I huffed, pretending to be annoyed. “Give me the knife.”
While I worked, he leaned back on his hands and observed me. “Do you still like Halloween?”
The question threw me at first. After being so close, it felt odd to return to small-talk territory. “Umm, not really,” I replied, purposefully not looking up. “My dad was really the Halloween ring leader.”
From the corner of my eye, I caught Gray shifting in place. “When did you—I mean when did he…?”
I smoothed my face into a reassuring expression. “It’s okay. It was four years ago. I told you he was a scientist; well, he always stayed late at the lab when he was working on something new. It drove my mom crazy,” I recalled out loud, shaking my head when I pictured her nagging him.
“It didn’t snow a lot that winter. Just a little here, a little there. It kept melting and coming back. I guess that’s what makes the roads the most dangerous—black ice. He worked late one night and didn’t see the ice patch on the highway…”
Even after a handful of years, I could still picture him so clearly. His perpetual cowlick, his argyle dress socks. The quiet, dreamy way he smiled at my mom while she flurried around house, always in a tizzy about one thing or another.
“He was brilliant,” I recalled out loud. “Pensive. But he had a great sense of humor. Anyone could make him laugh. ”
I stopped when I realized my eyes were filling. “Geez, I’m sorry,” I sniffed, wiping my face and forcing out a laugh. “That snuck up on me.”
Gray kneeled up to pull me close. “Hey,” he murmured, “Don’t apologize.”
“I haven’t cried about him in forever,” I said against his chest. “I have no idea why I’m crying now.”
But, as I said the words, I realized—it was him. Gray . I knew he was listening. I knew he would care. Most people weren’t capable of either, let alone both.
“I get it,” he whispered, nuzzling his face against my hair.
Gray settled us back down on the ground, this time with my body tucked under his arm. I wiped my sweater sleeve under my eyes.
“Tell me more about your family,” I mumbled, not wanting to be the center of attention anymore. “I mean, I know their names and what they do for work, but… do you get along with them?”
He tipped his head back to look up at the trees. “They’re… Yeah, we get along. I get along with them , anyway.” He smirked at himself. “My mom is actually one of my best friends. I have brunch with her every weekend. My dad is— He’s a good father. We just?—”
Gray sighed. “He has a lot of expectations for me. He chose all my schools, my major, my apartment. He’s groomed me, you know? To take over Stryker & Sons. It used to be me and my cousin, Daniel, but we had a falling out with my dad’s brother. A big one. So now it’s all on me.”
I tried to imagine what that must feel like. “That’s a lot of pressure.”
He gazed down at me with shifting green eyes. “Yes.”
“And maybe it hurts to think about who you could’ve been if he wasn’t always pushing you in a certain direction,” I guessed. “Is that why you have two majors? ”
“Yes,” he said again. He didn’t so much as blink, but I saw his gears spinning. Considering.
I was about to ask him about Architecture when he swooped in, silencing me with the warmth of his lips over mine.
That time, our kiss built slowly. After a moment, he laid me back down on our newspaper blanket and settled over my body. His heat melded into me while he stroked his tongue over mine until I moaned for him again. Cursing roughly, he shifted to put himself between my legs.
Feeling his full weight sent me spiraling into my most terrible memory. Everything inside of me lurched. I tore my mouth from his and made a small, panicked sound.
Gray immediately sat up, frowning while I folded my knees up against my chest.
“…Ella?”
My pulse hammered in my neck, pounding so viciously that I couldn’t swallow. Bile rushed up my throat unimpeded. Acting on instinct, I sprang to my feet and turned to run for the nearest trash can.
“Ella!”
I heard Gray rushing to catch up to me. Desperate to be alone, I slapped a hand over my mouth and spoke through my fingers. “I feel sick,” I choked out. “I need to go.”
He yelled my name again, but I was already running.