Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
Iwake up to warmth.
There’s the flannel sheets and the sun weaving gold through the sheer curtains, yes. But there’s also the heat of Grant.
His arm is hooked across my waist, his chest curved over my back, and I can feel his heartbeat thudding softly at my temple.
He must sense me stirring because his fingers begin to move in a lazy rhythm up and down my spine, like this is something we do every morning. I soak it up.
“Take me somewhere you love today, Eve,” he murmurs, voice gravelly with sleep.
I turn just enough to meet his gaze, sleepy and serious. “What about everything on the list?” I ask.
“No lists today. Just you, showing the man you’re obsessed with your favorite place.”
I snort. “That’s a stretch.”
He chuckles. “Okay, okay. It doesn’t have to be your favorite place.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“No, I don’t,” he says, amused and so happy with his little jokes. “Now, somewhere that makes you smile.”
I settle deeper into his hold. There’s still work to be done around the house. I’m not done packing up our old things or finished with the nursery. But Grant wants to know what makes me happy. How can I not be touched?
A glimmer of light bounces across the snow globes on my dresser, catching my eye, and I smile.
“I know the perfect place.”
I hold a candle out for Grant to smell.
He leans down, inhales deeply, and hums. “That smells like dessert.”
“It’s Snickerdoodle. Do you think Braxton will like it? He can put it in whatever room he’ll use as his office.”
Grant’s look tells me all I need to know.
“Fine.” I set the candle down with an apologetic smile to the vendor. Before we move on though, I grab and pay for the gray and navy scarf I saw Grant eyeing when we reached the booth.
“Eve,” he says with exasperation.
When we came to the Christmas market he didn’t want me paying for the parking, or the pictures we took with Santa, or the hot chocolate. I do like saving my money where I can, but I don’t like a man trying to tell me how to live my life.
“It’s too late. I already bought it,” I tell a scowling Grant. “You might as well wear it and stop trying to act like you aren’t happy.”
I hold his cup of chocolate while he puts the scarf around his neck, and sure enough a crooked grin takes over as he runs his hands down the soft material. “How do I look? Good, huh? You don’t have to say it, I already know.”
Yes, he does look good. And no, I will not admit it out loud.
“Come on,” I say, handing him his cup. “Let’s keep walking. I need your help finding something for Braxton. I have no idea what to get him.”
“First of all, this day was supposed to be about you. Second, once you’re a parent, gifts don’t matter as much. Get something for Nia and Amani. He’ll survive.”
“Uh, no. When I become a mom, I one-thousand-percent still expect my loved ones to splurge on me.”
“So, it’s when now, huh?”
I bite the insides of my cheeks to hide my smile. It’s the holidays and I’m at my favorite place. I’m allowed to be optimistic about the future. That it has a little to do with the man walking beside me is just a coincidence.
“Besides, I already got Ivy something,” I say. “I’ll feel bad leaving Braxton out.”
Grant drains his drink, tosses the empty cup into a passing bin, and threads our fingers together. “I’ll help. But first, you’re skating with me.”
Why is Grant trying to act all strict today? Better question—why do I like it?
I follow his gaze to the rink at the center of the market. Families, couples, and even a few pros glide around with ease. When I meet Grant’s challenging smirk, I know he’s expecting me to push back and probably downplay having any kind of skating skills.
Well, he got the right one today.
“You’ve got a deal.”
It doesn’t take long to realize Grant is all bravado and no bite. While I glide onto the ice, he straddles the rubber edge like the ice is going to jump up and grab him.
“Come on,” I coax.
He steps fully onto the ice and seems to completely forget how to work his limbs. His knees buckle and arms flap wildly before he catches the railing.
“Why did you suggest this is you can’t skate?” I ask, skating backward in front of him.
“Because I saw that picture of you out on the rink,” he admits, staring at his feet. “Figured this used to be your thing.”
“You did this for me?”
He risks taking his eyes off his feet to look at me. “How many times do I have to tell you today is about you?”
I’m filled with the urge to reach out and hug him, but I know that would only make him fall. So, I settle for a heartfelt, “Thank you, Grant.”
He winks and it sends my pulse skyrocketing. “Any time.” And then he falls flat on his butt.
We’re both laughing as I help him up.
“Look, I appreciate what you’re doing here, but I want you to have fun too. We can walk around some more and get lunch. I saw a vendor with chicken and waffle kabobs. There’s also roasted chestnuts if you’re feeling more festive.”
“How about you go skate while I work on getting the hang of this,” he suggests.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
Grant nods and makes a shooing motion before grabbing onto the railing again.
I hesitate, but the ice is calling to me.
“Okay. I’ll only be gone for a little while.
And oh, here’s a tip: keep your legs slightly bent as you move forward.
If it feels like you’re going to fall, lean forward and you fall on your hands.
The last thing we need is for you to end up in the hospital with a broken tailbone. ”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
And I’m off.
My intent is to only skate around the rink three times then help Grant off.
On the first loop, I revel in the cool air against my face and the way my blades slice through the ice.
“Looking goodt!” Grant calls when I pass him by.
I go around again, easily navigating around groups and couples, picking up speed and remembering how it feels to fly. I used to spend whole afternoons doing this. Maybe I should again.
When I loop back, Grant is being escorted around by two little girls. He bends his knees, hunches his back to match their height, letting them lead him across the rink with all the patience and amusement in the world.
The sight steals my breath. I picture him with his nephew, knowing he’d be a fun uncle with his jokes and penchant for games. With kids of his own, gently leading and pushing them to achieve their dreams.
I picture him with…me. Waking me up to gentle caresses and sweet kisses. Inviting Braxton and Ivy to game nights at our house. Coming up with more silly victory dances after demolishing them in Pictionary.
“My Lord,” I whisper, heart beating wildly.
It’s too much, too fast. Three weeks ago, I was actively avoiding the guy, now I'm daydreaming of morning caresses?
I force my mind to slow down and stay here, in the present where I've got ice in front of me.
I lift a leg to test my balance. For a few seconds, I skate on one foot without so much as a wobble and smile. I’ve still got it.
I spot Grant back by himself across the skating rink.
He leans against the railing, watching me with a soft smile that makes all my insides warm.
I show him my skills, switching to the other leg, doing a little spin, then a curtsey.
He claps in the best show of encouragement before promptly sliding down the wall and landing on his butt. Poor guy.
When I reach him, he holds out a hand. “Just how good were you back in the day?”
“You’re looking at the two-time Winter Wonderland Invitational champion,” I say, slipping my hand in his.
We skate side by side, painfully slow but together.
“You know,” he says softly. “This place is like that snow globe you drew. Different setting, but same feeling. Cozy but still full of life. I see why you love it here.”
“I used to spend whole days here. Shopping, eating, skating. There’s nothing like it.” I bump his arm and immediately grab him when he wobbles. “Sorry. So, tell me how Christmas was growing up with the Simmons family.”
“Let’s see. There was always too much food.
My mom and sis loved baking. We were one of those families that opened one gift on Christmas Eve.
Destiny and Braxton always tore into the biggest boxes, but me—” He changes the position of our hands so that are fingers are interlocked.
“I always picked something small. Saving the best for later gave me something to look forward to. And it was always worth the wait.”
There’s a look in his eyes that makes my breath catch. It doesn't feel like he's just talking about Christmas presents. He's looking at me like I’m worth waiting for.
“And on Christmas day,” he continues, like he hasn’t just undone me with a look, “we’d get together and play board games once the excitement of the day wore off. We still do that now.”
“What kind of games do y’all play?”
“The same ones we’d play during game nights. Spades, Uno, Charades. Last year, we got out and went to an escape room. We didn’t escape in time, unfortunately.” He laughs. “But it was fun. My mom was talking about doing one with you and Ivy this year.”
“An escape room with me? Has your mom met me? Does she know how bossy I can get?”
“Trust, she’s well aware.” He squeezes my hand to soften the joke when I balk. “But she likes that about you.”
I’ve always loved how Grant and Braxton’s parents treat Ivy like she’s their own, and that she’s had them to lean on since losing Dad. To imagine that maybe I could have a place with them, too, feels like opening an early Christmas gift.
“So…” Grant says as we come up on the exit, glancing between it and me.
“So, I think it’s about time you keep up your end of our deal and help me find a gift for your brother.”
He sighs dramatically. “I mean, if you’re gonna twist my arm, I guess I have no choice.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Come on, funny guy.”