Chapter 18
Grace
If he thinks I’m leaving, he’s wrong. I’d rather die on this mountain than go back to my penthouse.
Who’s being dramatic now, Grace?
“Shut up.”
I hurried out of the house because I almost cracked and confessed that the rest of my conversation last night involved the L-word, and now I’ve screwed myself.
The temperature’s plummeted. Snow is falling harder. If I’m going to go, today is the day to do it. Otherwise, I’ll risk being snowed in with a man who…
He doesn’t want you, Grace. You trapped him into this arrangement, and it wasn’t fair.
What a humbling experience this is turning out to be.
I came up here looking for solitude and then got pissed off when I got a taste of it last night.
I need more therapy.
Tears fall down my cheeks as I march up the hill towards the barn. There’s an old greenhouse and chicken coop on the other side that I didn’t even know were there. Dean has so many hidden treasures… many of which I’ll never discover because he wants me gone.
I can’t breathe. It’s too hot .
My boots pack the fallen snow, and I slip a little, climbing up the mountain like I have any clue where the hell I’m going. Sucking in deep breaths, I pull off my sweater and drop it on the ground without a care.
Keep going. Just keep walking.
White puffs of air punch out of my mouth. Every breath I take burns my lungs.
You might as well let your mother have her way and set you up with a man, Grace.
“No.”
Why not? It can’t be that bad. Your other friends have done it.
“No.”
Oh, that’s right. You have no friends. You just have Nicole, and she got her happy ending, which means more alone time for you because she’s got better things to do now.
“That’s not true.”
Now my mother’s voice takes the mic. “You’re not built to love. You’re a trophy. Sit pretty, keep your mouth shut, and do what you’re fucking told.”
“Stop it!”
I trip over a fallen branch and go down hard. Freezing cold air bursts in my lungs, cutting like knives. Crouched on all fours, my vision blurs from my tears. I scream for all I’m worth because if I don’t get this anger out of me somehow, I’ll combust. My throat hurts from how loud I scream. And I can’t fucking stop.
Dean just wanted to taste a rich girl. He’s done with you now .
I shake my head. “That’s not true.”
Remember that guy you banged in the dressing room at the mall a few years ago? This is the same thing. He wanted to rail a rich bitch, you wanted someone to pay attention to you. Win-win.
“No.”
My mother’s voice chimes in again with, “Shame you spent the night deciphering between love and lust. The bags under your eyes are pathetic. You should have at least put on make-up this morning . You’re disgusting .”
“Go away.”
“He might have loved you if you were perfect. I told you to be perfect.”
“Stop it! Please stop it!”
Something hard winds around my body, pinning my arms down. I scream and try to tear away from it.
“I got you,” a deep voice says against my ear. “Grace, I’ve got you.”
Dean .
“Shh, come on, baby.” He tips me back until I’m in his lap. Then he rocks me. “I got you.”
Shame constricts my air flow and tears pour down my face. If he wanted me gone before, he will certainly want me out of here now that he’s seen my worst side.
“No one likes a weak girl, Grace. Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.”
I clutch Dean fiercely, practically strangling him while I sob.
Dean rocks me back and forth, petting my hair and telling me it’s okay.
But it’s not okay. Here I am having a menty b and I hate that he’s witnessing it.
“I’ll leave,” I say, hoping that’ll make this better. He probably regrets the day he met me and all the days and nights after. “I’m so sorry for all this.”
When I push away to get up, his embrace tightens. “Give me a minute more.”
I’d give him all the minutes of my life if he asked.
Nicole’s right. I’m in love with him.
And now that he’s seen the messy side of me, he probably thinks he’s dodged a bullet.
“I heard you scream, and it scared me to death.” He buries his face in the crook of my neck, hand threading in my hair. “Fucking hell, woman.”
I melt into him even more. It feels good to be held like this. No one’s ever done it before. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
“I’m sorry I asked you to leave. It was stupid. I’m a fucking idiot, Grace. The minute you walked out, I…” He pulls back and cups my cheeks. His gaze shows terror and… something I don’t know. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
And that’s why that look is something I don’t know. No one’s ever looked at me the way Dean does.
If he’s telling the truth, then…what do I really have left to lose? “I think I’m falling in love with you, too. I thought that’s what you heard me talking about last night with Nicole and that’s why you wanted me out of here. I didn’t think you’d be mad about dumb, dirty boots.”
“I should have handled that whole thing more maturely. I’m so sorry.”
When he kisses the top of my head, I relax a little.
“Same.” I sniffle. “And, for the record, I also love your dumb, dirty boots.”
He chuckles lightly against my ear, still rocking me. “Shit, you’re shivering.” Dean rubs his hands up and down my arms. “You left your coat at the cabin but…” He looks at my tank top. “Where is your sweater?”
I have no clue.
“My anxiety attacks make me hot.” Does he want to deal with someone who has those? “I haven’t had them in a while, but this is the second one in a week.” The first was just before I booked my cabin here.
His eyebrows pinch together. “I did this to you, didn’t I? Fuck.” He holds me tight again. “I’m so sorry, Grace. Truly. I didn’t mean to make this happen.”
“It’s not you. It’s me.” I tuck some hair behind my ear and sniffle again. “I talk to myself a lot. Sometimes the voice isn’t happy me. It’s critical me. Or worse, my mother.”
Dean listens with a devastating expression.
“She’s a horrible person,” I say. “I’ve left her behind physically, but she’s not out of my head yet.” And she might never be, isn’t said, but I think he hears that part, anyway.
“Well, I can help make sure your head only tells you nice things.” He lifts my chin, so I keep eye contact with him. “And if you feel yourself getting too caught up in negativity, just come out here and scream again. But warn me first so I don’t think you’re getting eaten by a bear.”
Relief blows over me. “Does that mean I can stay?”
“Do you still want to?”
I nod.
“Good, because I was going to consider that whole kidnapping situation Conner brought up last night if you were to tell me no. The instant you walked out the door, it was like my heart ripped out of my chest.”
The surrounding silence is soothing. All I can hear is the light tuts of snowflakes landing. I take a few minutes to calm down and collect myself. Dean holds me in his lap patiently, which is more helpful than he probably realizes.
“Landon and Kerrington are with my best friend Nicole. The other one we were talking about was my oldest brother, Mason. If he knew I came out to a secluded place in winter, all by myself, he’d be coming for me. The jerk treats me like I’m five.”
“He loves you.”
“He’s controlling.”
“He just wants to make sure you’re safe and cared for.”
“He needs to mind his own business.”
“He’s your brother.”
“He’s unbearable.”
“I think I’m going to really like him.”
We fall into silence again and Dean peels off his heavy shirt and wraps it around me.
“Come on, baby.” He lifts me into his arms and quietly carries me back to the house. I’m struggling to understand the timeline of the past three, four, five days on this mountain. Are we really falling in love with each other or is this extreme infatuation and lust?
Our instant attraction doesn’t sway the argument one way or the other.
If you love someone, you’d do anything for them. Would I do anything for Dean?
The instant he carries me inside, I completely relax and breathe deeply .
Dean makes hot chocolate while I sit at the table. He’s shirtless still, because I haven’t taken his flannel off me yet. The wood crackling in the fireplace, the scent of cinnamon and leather, the sunlight pouring in from the windows, the snow falling, it feels like home.
Dean… feels like home.
“Smoke is coming out of your ears,” he teases. Placing a mug in front of me, he sits next to me and covers my hand with his. “What’s your head telling you now?”
I stare at the marshmallows floating in my steamy mug, expanding and softening. I’ve had to be tough my whole life. Dean’s warmth is softening me, turning me gooey. “I’m a lot like a marshmallow.”
“Made of sugar?”
I love that he calls me that all the time. I’ve never had a nickname before. Gracie doesn’t count.
“What if this is just a phase?” I whisper. “I’ve never been in love before.”
Dean carefully takes a sip of his drink and sets it down. “Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Guess we gotta find out the hard way.”
So he’s worried about it too?
“We just met,” I say.
“I’m aware.”
“I’m already living with you.”
“Tell me about it.”
“The snow isn’t stopping.”
“I warned you.”
My gaze lifts to his and I whisper. “What if I never want it to stop?”
“The snow… or us?”
Both. My chin trembles because this is scary and I’m in over my head .
Dean cups my chin and gently kisses me. “It’ll be okay, Grace.”
“I don’t want my heart broken.”
“Neither do I.”
“Are we crazy? Like this is crazy, right?”
“Maybe a little, but…” Dean kisses the tip of my nose. “I think that makes it even better, don’t you?”
Yes.
“Let’s just go a little slower,” he says. “We’ve got all winter to warm up to each other. You can sleep in my bed whenever you want, and if you need time for yourself, stay in your room and I won’t come knocking. No hard feelings.”
Sounds easy enough.
After we finish our hot chocolate, Dean grabs another shirt from his room.
“Come on, sugar. We’ve gotta get our girl from the cabin.”
Oscar’s still down where the latest renovation is happening. “ Our girl?”
“She’s been more yours than mine since you got here, Grace.”
“Well, us girls have to stick together.”
“I’m officially out numbered.” He shivers dramatically. “Oh no. Whatever am I to do?”
I playfully smack his chest, and he laughs. Catching my wrist, he brings my hand to his lips and kisses it. “Last chance to run, sugar. The snow is falling hard, and it’s not going to stop anytime soon.”
“Guess it’s just like love then.”
Dean cocks his brow. “Yeah. I guess so.”
Hands locked together, we’re goofy smiling until we reach our best goodest girl…who somehow de stroyed the plywood we needed for the half-renovated kitchen.
Dean picks up a hunk of wood that’s still all slobbery. “Damnit, Oscar!”
One step forward, two steps back , I think to myself as I pick up another wet chunk of useless wood from the floor.
Oscar wags her tail and sits between us, staring up at Dean as if waiting for a treat.
“At least it’s not something worse,” he says tiredly, scratching her ears.