Chapter 40
Braxton
Gracie pulls away too quickly, leaving me standing there gaping at her, my heart trying to beat out of my chest. She takes in my expression, her mouth curving, and then presses her hands to my chest, pushing me back.
“Come on,” she says brightly. “We’re missing my party.”
“Fuck the party,” I mutter as she saunters away from me, hips swaying in that goddamn dress. Her laugh floats back to me, making me smile reluctantly.
We step into the bar, and Gracie heads straight for Elyse and Reed, her mouth moving rapidly, filling her friend in on everything that just happened with her parents, I’m guessing. The thought is confirmed when Elyse shoots me an approving look, her eyes meeting mine.
The rest of the evening is uneventful, but it’s around one in the morning before we all decide to call it quits. I check in with Benson as Gracie says goodbye to everyone, lingering the longest with Elyse, their arms tight around each other.
When they finally pull away from each other, I usher Gracie back out to my truck, wrapping a tight arm around her shoulders when she shivers.
I don’t bother turning the radio on when I point us in the direction of her place, the two of us sitting in a contemplative silence.
Gracie’s expression is almost pensive, her eyes firmly fixed through the windshield.
I reach over, resting my hand on her leg. She doesn’t look at me, but her fingers brush against my knuckles, and I dig my fingers into the soft flesh of her inner thigh.
I park the truck in her driveway and follow her inside, softly shutting the door behind us, resting my back against it. She flicks a light on, a warm glow filling the space.
“Good night?” I ask. She turns to look at me, dipping her chin down. “You’re very quiet.”
Gracie’s lips quirk. “I was thinking.” She steps closer to me, and my breath stalls, stomach swooping at the look in her eyes.
“Yeah?” I rasp. “What were you thinking about?”
“I was thinking,” Gracie says slowly, “that this has been the best birthday I’ve ever had.”
I frown dramatically. “What about last year? We spent a weekend at the B&B by the beach, having breakfast in bed every morning…” I trail off when she shakes her head.
“Nope.” She pops the p as she says it, her eyes mischievous. “Definitely today.”
“I haven’t even given you your present yet,” I protest lightly, and it’s Gracie’s turn to frown in confusion.
“Wasn’t the surprise party my present?” She looks over at the flowers, perched in a crystal vase on the side table. “And the flowers…”
“Nope,” I mimic her. “It’s, uh…” I rub the back of my neck. “It’s actually in the truck.”
“Why?” The one word is all demand, her eyes flashing eagerly before she orders, “Go get it!”
“Well, I don’t know if I want to now,” I say, and her eyes narrow in warning. “Fine, fine, I’m going.”
The gift is wrapped in two blankets, lying in the bed of the truck, strapped down to make sure it didn’t shift around when I drove.
I make quick work of pulling it out and carrying it back inside.
Gracie’s eyes widen as she watches me angle myself sideways to get through the door, approaching slowly.
“What on earth…?”
I grin at her to hide the nerves. “If you don’t like it…too bad.” I set it down gingerly, leaning the covered frame against my legs. “I can’t take it back, but Mom has said she’s willing to hang it in her house. In fact, she’s told me firmly that she wants something similar for her birthday…”
She approaches slowly, dropping to her knees in front of me and reaching for the blankets. I huff out a laugh. “Not exactly what I pictured when I imagined you on your knees.”
Gracie flicks a dark glare up at me, and I clamp my mouth shut, letting her focus back on her task. She pulls each blanket away tortuously slowly, her eyes flaring wide as she reveals the watercolor painting underneath—a perfect likeness for her house.
I got a photograph off Marjorie from when the house was listed, instructing the painter to create a perfect replica, permanently capturing Gracie’s first home as it was when she bought it.
The fence is crooked, the paint of the wooden walls faded, and each tree, plant, and bush painted perfectly to match their real counterparts.
“Oh,” Gracie gasps, sitting back on her heels, tracing a finger over the faint clouds and the greenery surrounding the house.
“I talked to Halsey that night at Benson’s,” I tell her.
“You went to the bathroom, and I asked about The Sterling Thread and what it was like to work there. I had this idea for what I wanted, but she doesn’t work with watercolors and, in my head, it needed to be watercolors,” I ramble, unable to stop the stream of words, Gracie’s eyes never leaving the artwork.
“Don’t ask me why. Anyway, I went and talked to the store owner, Lynley, and she put me in contact with a local painter and… ” I finish with a lame, “Ta-da!”
“Braxton,” Gracie murmurs, awestruck. “This is…”
“Horrible? Lame? Terrible?” I offer, and she lets out a giggle.
“Perfect,” she corrects. “And you’re right. This wasn’t the best birthday…” I screw my face up, and Gracie grins, adding, “but now it is.”
“I’ll hang it for you tomorrow,” I tell her. “Anywhere you want. I have my tools in the truck.” I lean down and grab the painting, leaning it against a wall. When I turn back to face her, she’s standing, watching me. “There’s another reason I got you this.”
Her brows rise. “Oh, yeah?”
I swallow roughly, deciding to just throw every word I’ve got out and hope to hell it makes sense.
“This house…” I glance around. “It represented the beginning of our lives together. Not just as a couple, but a family. It was where we would plant our roots—together.” I close my eyes, my mind taking me back to the weeks after the accident—a silent montage of every nightmare and every choice, each one accumulating into months of anger, regret, and hopelessness.
“I can never take back what I did, Rumpel. I can’t give us those months back, and I’m not sure—” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat.
“I’m not sure that I would even want to. ”
Gracie’s smile is wobbly, unsure. “Why?” The word is tentative, almost like she’s bracing herself for more hurt.
“I hate what I did to you,” I say quietly, my mouth dry.
“I think about Christmas and—” A shudder rolls through me.
“I can still see the look in your eyes when you told me we were done. But to get to where we are today…” I pause, correcting, “To get to where I am today, we had to go through it. I’m different now, Gracie.
I’m a man who not only knows exactly what he’s got to lose, but also what it looks like when I do lose it. ”
I close the distance between us, running my hands up over her arms, peering into her eyes.
“This house still represents us, even if it doesn’t look like what we planned.
Now, it just represents our growth and how we’re stronger together.
Our journey didn’t start out how we wanted it to, but it was a challenge that showed me I wasn’t ready to be the man you deserve.
” I lean down and press my forehead to hers. “But I’m trying to be now.”
“Braxton…” Her voice is soft as it trails off, her hands landing on my chest.
“I won’t ever let you down again, Gracie. Not like I did. It’s not worth the risk.”
She pulls a deep breath into her lungs, her blue-gray eyes lifting to lock with mine. “I won’t give up this house,” she says quietly. Firmly. “I feel like I should, knowing it isn’t ours. That Nolan—”
I cut her off with a sharp shake of my head. “No. This house is embedded with our history. It’s already filled with the memories of what makes us us.” My smile is crooked. “I wouldn’t be adverse to painting the walls, though.”
Gracie snorts, glancing at the walls in question. “What’s wrong with Sea Salt Green?”
“Absolutely nothing,” I answer promptly. “But Nolan left streaks, and we’ll need to fix it. Might as well repaint the whole room.”
“I’ll make a deal with you,” She locks eyes with me, gleaming with mischief. “You can repaint the walls when you move in here.”
“And that’s not tonight?” I ask with mock disappointment, and she shakes her head, smile widening into a grin. “Fine. You’ve got a deal. Wait, do I get to pick the color?” Gracie raises one eyebrow, and I drop my head with a groan. “Fine.”
She reaches up, looping her arms around my neck. “But I’ll compromise with you.”
I slide my hands over her waist, my fingers dipping dangerously low down her back.
“What’s your compromise?” The question comes out challenging, but her expression doesn’t change.
“You can’t move in with me…” She pauses, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth before she adds, “Yet. But you can stay over.”
A low noise leaves me. “In the future or tonight?”
Her answering smile is coy, her nails scratching along my neck as she trails her fingers to my collar. She takes a step back, shifting out of my hold when I try to keep her close.
“Gracie?” My lips feel rubbery, like they belong to someone else. Heat coils low as she grips the hem of her sundress and drags it over her head—so damn slowly.
A low curse leaves my mouth as her silky smooth skin is exposed. She drops the dress into a pile on the floor, leaving her standing there in lacy panties and a matching blush-coloured bra that’s pushing her breasts up high.
“You know…” Gracie says suggestively, cocking a hip. “The saddest thing about everything that happened…I never got to christen my house. Not really.”
My blood is a riot of emotions, each one warring for dominance. Arousal. Regret. Love. Jealousy.
Gracie told me she was never with Nolan like that in this house, and I believe her. But hearing it again settles the feral beast inside me…even as I ache with the reminder of how much everything has changed for us.