Chapter 21
21
TESSA
“Shit.”
I looked over at Val, one brow arching high in question.
“I told Grant we were going to The Dancing Glass,” they said. “Where’s your phone? I should tell him to come to this place instead. What’s it called? The Coach House?” They reached for my phone where it sat on the console, but I snatched it back frantically, the car weaving slightly with my movement.
“You can’t invite Grant to Coach House,” I snapped.
Val frowned. “Why the fuck not? Cranberry Falls is only twenty minutes away. I only got to talk to him a little, but I’m positive he’d drive twenty minutes to spend more time with you.”
Of course he would. I got the feeling he'd do anything for me, and as much as the notion made me long to pull him close and kiss the hell out of him, I also knew it was dangerous to let myself fall this hard. “He obviously cannot come out when Claire’s there.”
“You’re using a very ominous tone, but I don’t know why you care.”
I sighed. No one knew me better than Val, and yet I didn’t want to have this conversation with them. “My mom tried to set up Grant with Claire,” I said.
“Duh, yeah, I know that.”
“I know you do.” Saying the next words aloud felt nearly impossible, and I focused hard on traffic so I wouldn’t have to see Val’s expression, even in my peripheral vision. “Claire was not interested, obviously, but my mom persisted. She didn’t consider setting Grant up with someone else.”
“You’re upset that she didn’t consider you?”
“No,” I protested quickly. “I mean, yes. A little. Not so much that she didn’t do it, as what it means. My mom has never once tried to set me up with someone.”
“Maybe it means she respects your judgment more than Claire. After all, Claire is the kind of person who brings guys she barely knows to her sister’s wedding.”
“Or, what if it means she didn’t consider Grant might be interested in me because she’s never considered any man would be interested in me because I’m not the pretty one or the smart one or the fun one. I’m me.”
As hard as I tried not to see Val, my damn peripheral vision, honed from years as a teacher, made me aware they were staring at me. “You don’t really believe that?”
I shrugged. “You should probably text Grant and tell him we’re not coming.” I handed the phone to them. “Send yourself his contact.”
There was tapping, a few whooshes, and a ding, then Val set the phone back in its spot. “What did you say?” I asked.
They glanced down at their phone screen and read, “Hey, this is Val. We got a last-minute invite to visit Claire and Hudson and didn’t feel like we could turn it down. Assuming you weren’t interested in joining us?”
“Did he reply?”
“He sent a laughing emoji and a text that said, ‘I doubt I’m even invited. Also, no, I wouldn’t be interested. But thanks for keeping me in the loop.’”
My lips twisted up into a wry smile, not at all surprised by Grant’s reply. My sisters thought Grant was an asshole, and he was so nice, he didn’t even resent them for it.
“Your face,” Val said.
I frowned, wiping my face clear of whatever unintended emotion they saw there. “Shut up.”
“You two seem downright smitten with each other. This is going to sound crazy, but how about you just date the man?”
A long-suffering sigh slipped through my lips as I pulled into the small parking lot behind Coach House, which I was surprised to see was not a coach house at all, but rather just a typical storefront. It had nice decor, though. “Spend one night with Claire and tell me you don’t understand,” I challenged them.
“Tess, Val,” Claire gushed, and my brow came down curiously. Claire never gushed.
“She’s a little tipsy,” Hudson said with a grin, standing to greet us as we walked closer. I liked Hudson. I hadn’t expected to—it was completely out of character for Claire to bring home a man she’d only been dating a few weeks, but Hudson was good for Claire. He relaxed her, brought her out of her shell, and apparently gave her the opportunity to get tipsy, something I’d never witnessed. “You must be Val,” Hud said. “Great to meet you.”
“Val is Tessa’s BFF,” Claire said, winking once theatrically and grinning widely. “They’re soulmates.”
“I don’t think we’re soulmates,” I grumbled, but Val only laughed.
“I’ve never seen your sister drunk,” they said.
“ I’ve never seen my sister drunk. Not this sister, at least. How’s the move going?” I asked, although I was looking at Hudson, since Claire seemed incapable of normal communication at present.
“Pretty good,” he replied. “We have most of the boxes unpacked.” He grinned again, even deeper, and I was struck—not for the first time—by how handsome my sister’s fiancé was. Didn’t matter, though, the only man I wanted to see was Grant. “This is the fastest I’ve ever unpacked in a new place. I still had a couple boxes in storage at my old place.”
“Did you know the average person takes 182 days to unpack fully?” Claire asked, her eyes wide. I’d never understood Claire’s love of statistics. She was smart enough to know how malleable data was, and yet she swore by it. “Hudson looked it up for me.” She looked at him with stars in her eyes, clearly finding the gesture sweet. I assumed Hud had found the statistic not to please Claire, but to get her to chill the fuck out, but I only smiled.
“Nice of you,” I said to Hudson, then looking back at Claire I added, “Has this knowledge chilled you out any?”
“I’m very chill,” she groused, her delicately drawn eyebrows lowering over bright green eyes. Somehow anger only made her beautiful features more stunning.
“Of course you are,” I replied without letting even a hint of sarcasm leak through my voice. Hudson pinched his lips tight, fighting a smile as he pulled a now glowering Claire close and landed a kiss on her head.
“I was very chill about those last boxes,” Claire grumbled as she turned into Hud’s embrace.
“That’s what Tessa said,” Hudson replied, squeezing her around the shoulders and glancing up to meet my eye with a smile. It reminded me of the moment he’d walked in on Grant and me, though he hadn’t smiled then. We made eye contact and I’d been sure he’d tell my sister what he saw— who he saw—but he never had. Part of me always wondered why, but I didn’t have the guts to ask.
“Hudson!” The voice was loud and came from behind us, and Val and I turned almost in unison toward it.
The woman yelling across the bar was even more beautiful than Claire, petite yet curvaceous, with long brown hair, oversized brown eyes, and a wide smile. With the way Hudson acted around my sister, I’d never worried he might be a cheater, but this made my stomach lurch. After Claire’s last break-up, if Hudson turned out to be a philandering twat, Claire would probably join a convent.
I looked back to Hudson to see how he would react, and watched his smile grow, his hold on Claire never loosening as he stood up straighter and waved the woman over. “Tess, Val, this is my sister, Sammie,” he said, and the instant he said the words the relationship was recognizable.
“Sammie, I’m so glad you could come,” Claire said, throwing a clumsy arm around her future sister-in-law and pulling her into an awkward hug.
“Me too,” Sammie replied, looking at us from her awkward angle under Claire’s arm. “And it’s nice to meet you. Claire’s told us a lot about her sisters. Are you the teacher, the doctor, or the traveler?”
I barely knew this woman, but the fact she’d put my profession at the top of the list made me warm to her immediately. “The teacher,” I replied, then hooked a thumb toward Val. “We both are.”
“Me too. What do you guys teach?”
“I teach art and Tessa teaches fifth grade,” Val said. “What about you?”
“Third.” She grinned, and the expression reminded me of Hudson. “Brutal, right?”
I laughed, pretty sure I was going to like Sammie.
It was Christmas Eve, and while my mind was usually on the holiday, today it was on one thing and one thing only. Grant Dupree.
I spent all of last night at a bar with my sister, her fiancé, and my best friend. We’d met Sammie, who was funny and sweet and who kept me laughing all night making fun of Claire and Hudson. The fact I’d been having fun didn’t matter, though, because every moment of fun was one I pictured sharing with Grant or wished he’d been there to experience.
I had grown so hopelessly infatuated with the man, my feelings were like a runaway train. I should’ve been pulling every possible switch in an effort to slow it down, but instead I was sticking my head out the window, enjoying the ride. Would it crash and burn? Very likely, but God the thing was exhilarating. The phone dinged and I grabbed it up, eager to chat with Grant.
Val: Last night was weird, but fun
Tessa: Agreed. I wasn’t expecting a drunk Claire. That was a new one. I liked Sammie, though
Val: Me too. And Hudson seemed nice
Tessa: He is. For a long time after “the incident” I was waiting for him to tell my family everything, but he never did
Val: You’re sure he saw you?
Tessa: Absolutely
Val: Well, it’s cool of him not to say anything. I mean, it’s none of his business, but that wouldn’t stop most people
Tessa: True. Did you get to hear Claire’s drunken spiel about what an asshole Grant is?
Val sent a laughing emoji.
Val: Okay, you were right about her very strong feelings where Grant is concerned. But did you hear her talking shit about Ethan as well?
I had, and I grimaced a little at the memory. While we probably all had our doubts about Ethan’s maturity when it came to marriage, the papers were signed and the rings were exchanged, and now it was our sisterly duty to never utter those concerns.
Tessa: She was really drunk
Val: But…Grant seems perfectly nice. What exactly is her beef?
I shrugged, but Val obviously couldn’t see it.
Tessa: Grant isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. He speaks before he thinks. A lot. And Claire of all people really hates that. She’s so damn sensitive
I hit send, but knew there was more. I couldn’t discount Claire’s experience with her ex. It had made my already type-A sister seem to lose perspective entirely.
Tessa: And I think Dan’s cheating really effed her up. She assumes the worst of men now. I think she even broke up with Hudson after Dan showed up at Nora’s wedding
Val: If it counts for anything, I like Grant and I’m in favor of this crazy relationship
Tessa: Thanks, Val
Val: Welcome, Tess
Tessa: Have fun with the fam tonight
Val: Not likely. My grandmother is in town. Last time she came to visit she asked if I was one of those women using men’s bathrooms
Tessa: I remember. That sucks
Val: Maybe this year I’ll start lying just to fuck with her
Tessa: You will not. She means well, she just…
I had a hard time completing the sentence.
Val: She just…told me our generation had to invent new genders for attention
Tessa: Okay, you’re right, she’s terrible. If she’s a nightmare you’re always welcome at my house, where you can watch me trying not to look at and/or imagine Grant naked
Val: Nah. In preparation for Grandma’s visit my mom bought a big non-binary flag and hung it in the kitchen
Val: My mother has spent thirty years sucking up to her mother-in-law, but she may finally tell her off to defend me, which is sweet, if you think about it. I don’t want her thinking I don’t want to have Xmas at her house
Tessa: That's awesome, but you don’t have to take shit from your grandma either, okay?
Another laughing emoji.
Val: Yes, ma’am
Tessa: Fuck off. I’m being supportive
Val: I know
They added a winking emoji.
Val: Love you for it. I have to go shower. Talk later
Tessa: Yup
I sent a quick heart and tossed down the phone, pulling out the dress I wanted to wear. Did the Duprees dress up for Christmas Eve? I had no idea, but the Davises usually did. I grabbed my phone once more.
Tessa: Do Duprees dress up for Christmas?
Grant: This Dupree has to wear dress pants every day of his life, and thus was going to wear jeans and a sweater.
I began to text a reply, but his next text came in soon after.
Grant: Should I dress up? Is that what your family does?
Tessa: Traditionally, we dress up for Christmas Eve and wear our pajamas on Christmas Day. Although, with Christmas Day at your parents’ house, I wasn’t going to show up in fleece buffalo check pajamas
Grant: I’ll wear nicer clothes today.
Tessa: I wasn’t trying to shame you, I’m sure you’ll look good in your jeans.
I was actually willing to bet he’d look mouthwateringly delicious in his jeans, but that wasn’t the point.
Grant: Okay. Tell me you want me to wear them.
Tessa: Ummmm, I want you to wear your jeans?
The phone rang in my hands and I smiled down at his name. It was funny that I could hate talking on the phone to every human being on Earth except this one. I swiped the call on. “Was that not good enough?”
“Not even close. You told me you were all mine tonight.”
“That’s still true,” I replied cautiously, not sure where he was going.
“That means I’m yours, Tess. I’ll wear dress pants or jeans or my own pair of buffalo-check pajama bottoms if that’s what you want.”
I opened my mouth to tell him I didn’t care what he wore, but he was speaking again, and my breath caught in my throat.
“I don’t want to share you with our families this morning. I want to sit across the table from you knowing you’re already fantasizing about taking my clothes off.
“I’ll never forget the first time you slipped your fingers into my waistband and slid off my pants. Do you remember that?”
“Of course,” I whispered, my voice so low I wasn’t sure he’d hear me.
“When you flip the button and pull down the zipper tonight, what do you want me wearing?”
I chewed on my lower lip, not sure what my answer should be. I’d seen Grant in all sorts of clothes and he’d looked amazing in everything.
“Tess,” he intoned, and I knew he’d wait for my answer, even if saying the words felt a little silly.
“I guess… I want…” I kept trailing off.
“Tessa,” he said gently, the rumbling bass of his sexy demands easing back into his usual tenor. “I’d do anything for you. Being honest now should be the easy part.”
The truth of those words made my heart race, because they could only mean one thing. There was a part of this relationship we weren’t being truthful about, and we both knew what it was. Still, that part wouldn’t help matters. “You should wear your jeans,” I said, and he was right, saying it was easy. In my brain though, the hard words bounced around, refusing to be ignored.
I think I might’ve accidentally fallen in love with you.