Chapter 29
Grace
M ichael was antsy. He had been since the weekend, probably longer than that when I thought about it.
Maybe...well, maybe even since we’d gotten married.
I sat staring at my laptop, seeing nothing that was on the screen, deep in thought.
Today was Monday. Michael and I had been married for twelve days. I wondered if the reality of what we’d done was sinking in for him.
The day had started fine. Michael had the day off and we’d had breakfast together like we did most days. It was when we were cleaning up our dishes afterwards that Michael surprised me with the news that he was leaving to go work out with Ace and Rycker. After that they were all going to Levi’s to help him with a project at his house and Michael wouldn’t be home until around dinner time.
I mean, it was fine for him to have his own plans and we didn’t need to be attached at the hip, obviously. It was just that he hadn’t left me on my own for the whole day since I’d moved in with him – not on his off days. He’d run errands, of course, or gone to work out or whatever, but he hadn’t made plans to be gone the whole day.
It wasn’t a big deal – not at all – it just felt like something had shifted between us, and not in a good way.
I thought about it the whole day, what I could do to make things better.
I cared about Michael – a lot. He was my own personal guardian angel who’d shown up exactly when I needed him most and stuck with me like a burr, even when I’d tried to shake him off.
I laughed at my messy mixed metaphor. I could tell him what I was thinking, feeling, but actions spoke louder than words.
And there was no day better than today.
Anticipation fizzed through me as I grabbed my phone to text Michael.
Me: Sorry to bug you. I was wondering if you think you’ll be home for dinner. If not, that’s fine. I just wanted to check.
Not letting myself overthink it, I tapped to send it.
Michael’s reply popped up a minute later.
Michael: You could never bug me, Gracie. Yes, I plan to be home for dinner. Want me to bring something home?
My heart bumped at his nickname for me like it always did.
Me: No, I feel like cooking. Thanks, though.
Michael: Is 7 okay?
Me: Perfect.
Michael: You can put me to work when I get there.
I had no intention of doing that, but I didn’t argue. I sent a thumbs up emoji and let him get back to his day with the guys.
––––––––
M ICHAEL WALKED IN JUST as I pulled the baked spaghetti from the oven.
“It smells great in here.”
My cheeks flushed and I hoped he assumed it was from the heat of the oven. Part of it was, but the other part?
The other reason for the color in my cheeks were the images that had cycled through my brain all day, ever since I’d decided that I wanted to show Michael my appreciation tonight in more ways than just cooking dinner for him.
Now that I’d let the thoughts in, they wouldn’t leave me alone.
Michael went to get changed while I set the spaghetti and seasoned green beans I’d made to go with it on the table.
I was carrying a glass of water for each of us to the table when he reappeared wearing a concert t-shirt with a band I didn’t recognize and a pair of oh-so-distracting faded jeans that fit him like a glove.
“You didn’t leave anything for me to do,” Michael complained good-naturedly as he took in the food and the fully set table.
“Nope. Everything’s ready.” I took my seat and Michael followed suit. “All you have to do is enjoy.”
“I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”
My smile at Michael’s comment fell as he took his first bite of spaghetti and shook his head.
Oh no. What had I done wrong?
“It’s a new recipe...” I stammered to a halt as Michael shook his head again.
“It’s fantastic.” His dark eyes were filled with such affection and appreciation that it was all I could do not to crawl across the table and jump him. “I deeply, deeply regret not stealing you back for the pub when we had the chance.” He broke into a grin. “Don’t tell Mercy I said that.”
I returned his smile as my nerves settled a fraction. “Your secret is safe with me.”
As we ate, Michael filled me in on the project at Levi’s, which had involved moving old furniture out of the basement, then ripping out multiple layers of old flooring and patching walls in preparation for the space to be re-finished. It sounded like hard physical work that Michael and the guys had enjoyed doing.
Finally, Michael spooned up the last of the chocolate-hazelnut budino I’d made for dessert and pushed back slightly from the table with a groan, one hand resting on his flat, toned stomach.
“Gracie, that’s the best meal I’ve had in a very long time. Thank you.”
I fought the urge to duck my head. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to all the compliments Michael showered me with, but I was determined to try.
“You’re very welcome.”
Michael stood, stacking my empty plate on top of his. When I stood and reached for his dessert dish, he waved me away.
“You cooked, I’m on clean-up.”
I reached for the dish again. “I don’t mind helping.”
I followed him into the kitchen, a little preoccupied thinking about what I hoped would happen next and how to approach Michael about it.
Together we got the dishes in the dishwasher, the pans washed and dried, the counters wiped down, and the leftovers put away. I was reaching to put a seasoning back in the cabinet as Michael reached from behind me to do the same with a pan when we bumped into each other.
I heard Michael’s sharp intake of breath as his hands landed on my hips.
I took a quick breath of my own. This was it. Here was my chance.
I turned slowly, stopping Michael with my hand on his side when it seemed like he was going to take a step back.
He stayed where he was, his eyes growing darker as I drew closer to him, our bodies just barely touching.
He watched me as I slid my hand from his side to his chest and reached the other up to rest at the nape of his neck. Then I pressed closer against him, raised up on my toes a little, and he bent his head to meet me.
I brushed my lips across his, loving the feel of being so close to him. His big hands rested at my waist, and I could feel his heart racing under my hand on his chest.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, that you’re still doing for me,” I whispered as I pressed kisses along Michael’s jaw and down his neck. He smelled so good and felt so good that I spoke almost without thinking.
I felt Michael’s whole body stiffen a second before he gently pushed me back a step. I immediately missed the feel of his body pressed to mine.
“Is that what this is about?” Michael slid his hands up to cup my face, holding it as our eyes met. “Are you doing this as a way to repay me? Is that what dinner was about?”
I shook my head even though what Michael had said was partly true. It wasn’t entirely that, I wanted this with him, but...
“I just...” I stuttered to a stop, unsure what to say.
Michael’s hands moved to my shoulders, and he took another step back. Still captured in his gaze, I saw the storm clouds begin to gather in his eyes.
“You think I want that? For you to pay off some debt you think you have to me?”
Unable to look at Michael any longer, I dropped my eyes to the floor. Michael sounded angry but at the core of it he sounded hurt. I’d felt so good kissing him a few moments before, but all I felt now was embarrassment.
Dropping his hands from my shoulders, Michael turned and walked away. When I heard the jingle of his keys, I looked up but then wished I hadn’t. Michael stood at the door, keys in one hand, his other on the doorknob, the anger and hurt I’d heard in his voice now blazing in his eyes. Even with that, he didn’t raise his voice.
“I told you before you’re not running a tab. I guess I didn’t understand how desperate you were...are. To marry me, thinking I’m the kind of man who expects you to give me your body as payment. Desperate doesn’t begin to describe how you must feel.”
Head bent, he turned and opened the door. “I can’t be here right now. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
Without so much as a glance back at me, he stepped through the door, shutting it quietly behind him.
Michael knew that raised voices and slammed doors scared me. Even hurt and angry he’d done neither. That alone told me all I needed to know about who he was as a man.
I’d been so foolish to think he’d welcome me touching him out of any sense of obligation. All I’d wanted was to repay him a little of the kindness he’d shown me. Instead, I’d driven him away.