6. Grayson
6
GRAYSON
“ T hese look so good, Gray!” Kendra squeals, reaching out and squeezing my hand with one of hers while the other caresses the fabric of the pieces hanging on the clothing rack in my room.
She came over to drop Crew off with my mom and popped in to say a quick hello before she left to have yet another sit down meeting with his dad, Cash, about his inconsistent presence in their son’s life.
This is probably the third come to Jesus meeting she’s had with him in Crew’s short life. He always promises to get it together, and for a while he does, but it’s never long before things fall apart again. I know Kendra is tired of the back and forth, but she’ll never give up, though, because she never wants Crew to say she didn’t do everything she could to facilitate a relationship between him and his dad.
“Thank you! Do you think the cream will show as white in the photos?” I ask as she releases me. We both step back and take in the collection as a whole. The earthy color palette and the luxurious, yet accessible fabrics that are light and breathable, meant to be worn in the summer heat that will be upon us soon.
Originally, Kendra, Chantel and A’ja wanted me to try for an early spring launch, but I wanted to take more time to rebuild the brand and re-acclimate myself with Grayson Hart, the designer and CEO of Elysian. Some days, I still feel like an imposter, like I’m trying on someone else’s skin, but most days, it feels right.
Today happens to be one of those days.
Kendra shakes her head, stepping forward to run her fingers over the cream drop waist maxi dress with a peplum hem. “I think it’ll be fine. Amina knows what she’s doing.”
I nod, reassured by her confidence and the reminder of who will be behind the camera, capturing the pieces I’ve worked so hard to bring into the world. Amina Daniels, Jax’s wife two times over, is a celebrated wedding photographer who has never had a single thing in front of her lens she couldn’t capture beautifully.
“You’re right. Mallory’s gorgeous complexion will also lend the piece some warmth, keep it from coming across too white.”
“Exactly,” Kendra agrees, and we grin at each other. “You’re really doing it, Gray. You brought your business back, rebuilt it from scratch and came back a million times better. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
“Girl, why are you always trying to make me cry?!”
“Because it’s nothing wrong with crying when they’re happy tears,” she says, bumping me with her hip. “I hate to make you emotional and run, but I have to go meet this man.”
Her annoyance is evident in the wrinkles in her forehead and the narrowing of her eyes. I pull her into a tight hug and kiss her cheek.
“You’re a great mama. You know that?”
“I do. I just wish I had done a better job of picking a daddy for my baby boy.”
“There’s always next time.”
She breaks the hug with a small shove that makes me laugh. “Girl, I’m not having another baby no time soon.”
“You don’t have to have another baby to have another chance at picking a dad for your kid. Step fathers are a thing you know.”
Scoffing, she turns towards the door, preparing to leave. I follow behind her, mostly to continue to get on her nerves, but also because I need to be heading out as well.
“I’m just saying, Ken,” I continue, dogging her steps as she rushes down the hallway toward the front door. “A man doesn’t have to be the father. He can be the father that stepped up.”
She throws me a death glare over her shoulder but doesn’t respond, refusing to play in to my shenanigans, choosing instead to address my mother and her son who are out in the backyard, barely visible through the glass sliding doors that lead to the patio.
“I’ll be back soon, auntie. Crew, be good for Lottie Dottie!”
Neither of them respond. Not that she expected them to.
“I’m heading out too, ma!” I yell, grabbing my keys and purse from the table by the door. Kendra gives me an odd look as I follow her outside.
“Where are you going?”
“To meet Xavier.”
My stomach does a little flip when I say his name, and I fold the smile that always wants to appear when I think of him between my lips. No one should like their divorce lawyer as much as I like Xavier. No one should like anyone as much as I like Xavier, especially not when they’re coming out of a marriage as awful as mine and are just learning to really trust their judgment.
“Another movie date?” Kendra asks, her voice taking on that teasing lilt that it always has when she teases me about running into Xavier at The Reel months ago.
“No, we’re prepping for trial.” When my stomach flips this time, it’s a result of the anxiety that courses through me every time I think about facing Brian in court. It’s been a long time coming, and I’m more than ready to be done with all of this, but I still can’t believe the day I’ve been waiting for since I left is finally here.
Well, almost.
The trial starts at nine o’clock tomorrow morning, and Xavier has spent the last few weeks drilling me, Kendra, Chantel, A’ja, Aunt Nita, Aunt Marcel and my mom with question after question about my relationship with Brian and the emotional abuse he subjected me to. I expected that I would have to testify, but I didn’t really consider that everyone else in my family would have to as well. Thankfully, they were all more than happy to lend their voices to my cause and help make the case stronger.
According to Mara, we’ve all been ready to take the stand for days now, but Xavier, apparently, doesn’t agree. He said that I’ve been a little shaky with my answers during cross and asked me to come in so we can go over them one last time.
“Oh.” Kendra gives me a sympathetic pout. “Do you want me to cancel with Cash and come with you?”
I wave her off, knowing she would if I needed her to. “Absolutely not. I’ll call you later, and we can exchange updates.”
“Sounds good,” she says, sending me off with a half-hearted salute. “Love you.”
“Love you more. Good luck with Cash,” I call out, climbing behind the wheel of my car and closing the door. I give her one last wave before backing out of the driveway and calling Xavier to let him know I’m on my way.
He answers on the first ring, his voice deep and rough. “Hart.”
That stupid smile I fought back when I was in front of Kendra comes back in full force, pulling at the corners of my mouth and making me sound all silly when I attempt to mimic his serious tone.
“Allen.”
He meets my terrible imitation with a soft, indulgent chuckle. “I assume you’re on your way.”
“Yep, I should be arriving at your office in twenty-ish minutes.”
“Actually, there’s been a change of plans.”
“Oh.” I pause, biting my lip. “Did you need to cancel?”
“Nah, nothing like that. I just want you to meet me at the courthouse instead of at the office. Is that okay with you?”
I nod, even though he can’t see me. “Yeah, that’s fine. Pretty sure my arrival time will be the same.”
“Alright, see you there.”
“Okay. Goodbye, Allen.”
Another light chuckle that makes my thighs clench fills the line.
“Bye, Hart.”
When Xavier said he wanted me to meet him at the courthouse, I didn’t really know what to expect, but it wasn’t this. This, being me on the witness stand and him pacing in front of me with his tie hanging loosely around his neck and the sleeves of his crisp, white button down, rolled up to expose the veins in his forearms.
“Okay, Hart, final question.”
He strides over and places both hands on the wooden rail in front of me. His stance is wide and imposing and his eyes are intentionally hard, meant to intimidate me.
“Ready?”
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
We’ve been at this for hours, and I’m tired and hungry, plus I’m sure the bailiff Xavier bribed in order to get us through the door is fed up with sitting outside waiting for us to be done.
“According to your claim, there has been no point in your relationship with Mr. Lucas where he was not subjecting you to emotional or psychological abuse. If that’s true, why did you stay with him for so long?”
I narrow my eyes at him, silently asking if he actually wants an answer because we both know for a fact that if this was the real deal, he’d object the moment Monty Barnes finished asking the question. Xavier dips his chin slightly, acknowledging the reason for my hesitation and asking me to continue, anyway.
“Because I loved him,” I reply, my voice steady and sure. Pride shines in Xavier’s eyes when I don’t elaborate further. He’s been on me to make my answers to questions like this concise, because it’ll make it harder for the opposing side to use something I’ve said against me.
“Do you still love him?” he asks, his voice low as the words spill out into the space between us. The question catches me off guard, and I’m not sure if Xavier is asking as himself or if he’s still pretending to be Brain’s attorney, because this question has never been asked in any of our other prep meetings.
“I—”
“Concise answers, Hart,” Xavier reminds me, leaning in even closer.
My breath stalls in my lungs, held hostage by the heavy weight of his stare, and yet, I find the strength to respond, knowing somehow that the answer needs to be spoken.
“No, I don’t love Brian anymore.” I study his face, watching for a reaction. He gives me nothing. “I’ll always want what’s best for him,” I continue, still trying to read Xavier. “And I hope he wants what’s best for me, too. I think we both know that’s not him, though, that it probably never was him.”
It’s been months since I’ve cried over Brian and my failed marriage, so the tear that springs in my eye and rushes out over my cheek surprises me. What’s more surprising, though, is the warmth of Xavier’s palm against my jaw as he cups it, using the wide pad of his thumb to stop the tear in its track. For the second time tonight, I’m breathless, my chest burning, my lungs begging for air that won’t come as long as Xavier Allen has his hands on me.
“Was that okay?” I ask, forcing the words out past the lump in my throat that just might be my pounding heart.
“It was perfect. You’re perfect,” he murmurs. His hand is moving now, his thumb going from my cheek to the corner of my mouth and then further to the left, until his tear stained skin is brushing over my lips, spreading the salted moisture over my flesh in a slow, deliberate stroke.
On instinct, I open for him, letting his finger slip past the barrier of my teeth and into the warm recess of my mouth. He hisses out a curse as I suck the last remnants of my emotional release from his skin, and I moan around the intrusion. My eyes are glued to his face, watching wonder and desire crash together to make some new, unnamed emotion that holds Xavier hostage as he pulls his thumb out and pushes it back in, fucking my mouth with one hand while the other wanders over the barrier between us and walks an incendiary trail up my parted thighs.
It’s been warm lately, April bringing us rain and the first whispers of heat, so I’m wearing a dress. When I put it on, I thought it was simple and unassuming, with a hem short enough to show off my legs but long enough to be considered decent, but now, with Xavier’s large hand disappearing beneath it, it feels explicit. Like I only designed it to obscure my vision as my divorce lawyer’s fingertips graze my pussy lips while I’m sitting on a witness stand.
Xavier’s eyes meet mine. “Can I?” he asks, the words coming out as a rough groan. With his thumb still fucking my mouth, the only thing I can do is nod and open my legs wider, silently begging him to do whatever he wants with me.
We’re together in this madness. I can feel it in Xavier’s touch. I can see it in his eyes. Whatever line we’re crossing here, we’re dancing over it together, and I’m ready. Xavier is too. He’s right here with me. His fingertips grazing the edge of my underwear. His pupils dilating with anticipation. My chest heaving and my pussy throbbing as he lifts the lace from my skin, and then…the door opens.
“You two almost done here?” the bailiff, whose name I didn’t catch, asks, bursting into the room. His sudden appearance shatters the moment, and Xavier pulls away. His finger leaving my mouth with a wet smack while agony and regret write themselves into the lines of his face.
He grips the wooden rail again, knuckles turning pale from the force of it, and glances back at the bailiff. The moment is already broken. I know that, but I’m still disappointed when Xavier says yes, when the door closes and the bailiff is gone and instead of putting his hands back on me, he goes over to the table and begins to gather his things.
I stand on wobbly knees and step down from the witness stand, exhilarated and embarrassed all at once. Did I really just suck that man’s thumb? The question bounces around my skull as I grab my purse and start for the door, intent on leaving Xavier and whatever spell he placed me under behind.
“Where are you going, Hart?”
His voice is a lot closer than I thought it would be, telling me he’s no longer at the table but, instead, just a few paces behind me. My steps falter, but I don’t turn to face him. I can’t.
“Home. You said we were done.”
“And we are, but you’re not leaving without me walking you to your car.” He places his hand at the small of my back, urging me forward. I don’t know what else to do, so I move, passing through the door of the courtroom when Xavier holds it open for me and letting him guide me out of the empty courthouse, into the parking lot and to my car in complete silence.
I almost let us leave it that way, with the moment on the witness stand lingering between us, but I know I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I don’t get some clarity on the situation. Xavier is clear across the parking lot when I find my voice, but he stops when I call out to him, turning back around slowly in order to face me.
“For the record,” I say, my voice echoing between us. “Back there on the witness stand, that moment, you did want?—”
I stop short, unsure what noun to pair with the exemplar of desire.
It?
Me?
Neither feel exactly right. Thankfully, Xavier doesn’t need me to elaborate. He nods, and when he speaks, his words strike a chord in my heart that’s linked directly to my sex.
“More than I’ve ever wanted anything.”