Chapter 27 #2
“Excuse my Southern, but ain’t you innocent?” Tallulah’s finger circled the air as she pointed at me. “I know I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover and all, but I’ve seen your socials and some news articles. You’re like…supposed to be this perfectly unharmed princess.”
I choked on my spit and coughed into the crook of my elbow. Lyra patted my back as I tried to think of the right way to tell them my entire life was a lie. “I wouldn’t really say that about me.”
“We never really talked about our past, but I knew we had similar scars. It’s part of why I trusted you so fast. Kindred spirits and all,” Lyra said, pushing her hands into her back pockets. “I can at least tell when things aren’t okay, and right now…you look like a good mix of everything.”
I laughed. “Yep. Sounds about right.”
“So, you’re falling for my brother and have a shitty life you can’t escape?
” Tallie grinned as heat rushed to my face.
“That’s a yes if I’ve ever seen one.” She searched my face.
“Does my brother know whatever you have goin’ on or is this like some secret pact we’re makin’ that I can’t talk about?
Because I don’t know you well enough to go against my own blood. ”
I folded my arms on the counter and leaned into it. “He knows.”
“So, that fiancé of yours back in Texas that’s all over the news right now—”
My stomach fell to my feet. “What?”
Tallulah pulled out her phone and typed something out before passing it to me. Dozens of search results came up, pictures of him with women in strip clubs, on yachts, outside his home as he was pulling into the driveway. Each picture and article more damning than the last.
“You must really hate him if you’re smilin’ like that. Or you’re insane. Maybe both.” Tallulah shrugged. “Yeah, I’d go for both.”
“She’s not insane,” Lyra whisper-shouted.
“Can I borrow this for a few minutes?” I asked, pointing at her phone.
Tallie shrugged. “Sure.”
I rounded the counter and plopped on the couch, scrolling through every instance the media had uncovered on Walton Buchanon III. It wasn’t news to me that he did this. Not at all. But I doubted my father was aware of it, and now that he was being made into an adulterer before being married…
The inside of my cheek was going raw as I chewed relentlessly on it.
My thoughts started tunneling, goin’ too fast for me to focus on one thing.
If my father agreed to end the engagement with Walton’s recent publicity, would that mean I’d be able to make my own choice?
An ungodly amount of hope surged through me as the front door opened and boots went in all directions across the wooden floors.
I locked the phone screen and put it facedown on my lap.
“Hey, darlin’,” Grant murmured against my hair as he leaned over the back of the couch. “Sorry we were talkin’ for so long.”
“It’s fine.” I turned into him, breathing him in, making a smile bloom. So much was fucked up right now, but all that went away when he got closer. How was that possible?
He looked me over, seeming to notice my thoughts were chaotic. As he wrapped his arms over my shoulders, he whispered in my ear, “Wanna go shoot at the range? Blow off some steam?”
I nodded quickly. “Yes, please. Can we?”
He laughed, nuzzling his nose into my cheek. “’Course we can. Just us, or bring everyone along?”
I bit my lip, contemplating, then pressed my palm to his cheek, guiding his lips to mine. Heat gathered everywhere, sparking desire that didn’t seem to want to go away around Grant. I smoothed my thumb over his bottom lip before flicking my gaze up to his. “Just us, if that’s okay.”
“Sure. Lemme tell ’em, and then we can go.”
“Wait.” I reached for his hand before it slipped from my shoulder. “What about what y’all were talkin’ about? Don’t you need to go anywhere?”
He squeezed my shoulder and kissed the top of my head. “No, Peach. Not yet.” He left it at that and stepped away to talk to Carver.
They were going to do something, but maybe he was keeping it simple for now because he could tell my brain was a fucking mess. I felt a pang of guilt for snapping at him the way I had earlier as I watched him hug his sister. Grant was fiercely protective, and I projected my fears onto him.
We got into the truck after saying a quick goodbye to everyone else and rode out to the shooting range Carver had set far back on his land.
Grant held my hand the entire time, rubbing soothing circles along my skin that sent prickles of awareness throughout my system.
He parked under the shade of a large oak tree and unthreaded our fingers, leaving my hand cold. “Reach into the glovebox for me.”
“What am I looking for?”
“Ammo. Should be a new box in there you can use up.”
I opened the glovebox and took out the box sitting on top. My nose scrunched as a small tin revealed itself next to my phone. “Dip?”
He scratched the back of his head. “Yeah. Haven’t been doin’ that much lately.”
“Is that your stress-reliever?”
“Used to be.”
I pulled the gun from my waistband and put it on top of the box before pushing the door open.
I jumped out, then turned and asked, “Am I to guess your stress levels haven’t been high enough lately?
” I giggled, pulling my hair free from the bun it’d been in and adjusting my blouse as I arched a brow at him.
“Think I just found a better way to cope.” His grey eyes turned electric as they roamed my body, settling on my lips.
“Something that tastes way better and is ten times more addicting.” I closed the door, shielding the blood rushing to my face.
I could hear a faint chuckle as he jumped out of the truck and rounded the front. “It’s you, ya know.”
“I think I got that,” I replied, walking ahead of him toward the outdoor range.
I smiled to myself as I felt his gaze burning along my backside and remembered it was only a few days ago that the same feeling made my blood boil with rage.
Now, it boiled with desire. Longing, as if we weren’t tangled up in each other’s arms last night.
“The view from back here is still fucking gorgeous,” he hollered, making me giggle and sway my hips dramatically. Seconds later, I yelped as he scooped me up into his arms. “Are you teasin’ me?”
I blew the hair from my wet lips. “Maybe.” I tipped the rim of his hat. “Or maybe I just wanted to see you worked up over something else for a little bit.”
He shifted me in his hold. “No matter what’s on my mind, I’ll always be worked up over you.
” He set me down as the pitched ceiling of the range shielded the sun.
I set the box and gun down on the nearest ledge and when I turned back, Grant was unbuttoning his shirt.
“I’ll go check the targets and make sure they’re secured.
Carver said Lyra has been practicing so they might be… ”
“Destroyed?” We laughed together, easing some of the morning’s tension.
“Exactly.” He finished removing his shirt and tossed it next to the box of ammo beside me.
More heat that had nothing to do with the summer temperature coated my cheeks and chest. My fingertips grazed the delicate skin above my breasts as I watched the lines of muscle and ink flex inches from my body.
His finger tucked beneath my chin, drawing my eyes up to his. “Try not to shoot me while I’m out there.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I whispered, earning a grin from Grant.
He placed his hat on my head, tipping the brim playfully. “Be right back.” He kissed my lips gently, and I raised up on my tiptoes to prolong the kiss when he pulled away. “Promise.”
Nerves, and too much want, built in my gut as I watched him jog off to the line where the thicker brush and woods started.
I leaned against the half-wall, watching as Grant fixed the falling hay bales and adjusted the target in front of it, then worked on the other two flanking the one in the middle.
His stomach and shoulders were coated in a thin sheen of sweat when he walked back, and suddenly the only thing on my mind was how badly I wanted to climb my way up his body and make him more sweaty.
Instead, I stretched my arms and neck before picking up the gun.
As I cocked it and took aim, Grant came up from behind me, securing ear muffs over my ears before snaking his hands under my shirt and settling them on my waist. It made me feel powerful as I fired—that a man would stand behind me instead of trying to take over.
The kickback from the gun sent me into his firm body, but he remained an unwavering force.
As I reloaded the magazine, he stroked my stomach, pulling me closer to his growing erection. My right ear muff shifted, a dull, soundless thrum replaced by a gruff sound. “You’re doin’ so good,” Grant praised, making me fumble the magazine in my hand, nearly dropping it to the sandy ground.
“You’re making it hard to focus,” I muttered, pulling a laugh from him.
“Now you know how I feel.” His hand slipped lower, thumb edging the top of my jeans. I sucked in a sharp breath as I finally worked the magazine in. “Fuck, I wanna touch you.”
“Oh, yeah?” I taunted as I raised the gun, taking aim. “Tell me how bad.”
“So damn bad, darlin’.” He shifted the hair from my neck, giving him access to ghost his sinful mouth along the sensitive skin. “I can’t get you outta my head.”
I shifted the ear muff back in place to fire, trying to focus on the target. “And?”
Grant lifted the ear muff just enough to allow his voice in. “And I don’t know what to do about it.”
“Feels like you do.” When I cocked the gun again, I leaned forward, pressing my ass into his groin. He groaned as I said, “But I wanna hear you beg.”
“Fuckin’ hell.” His hand teased lower. “Please let me touch you, Peach.”
“Hmm. Not enough.” I shielded my ear and smirked as I fired the gun.
He moved the ear muff again and nipped my ear. “I need to touch you. I need all of you, more than I need to fuckin’ breathe.”