27. Grady
CHAPTER 27
GRADY
I scramble to pack enough food for Spencer and me for a few days, rushing around so she doesn’t have time to change her mind. There was enough hesitation in her eyes when she agreed to let me come with her that I won’t give her a moment longer for her to second guess her decision.
By the time I load up the old cooler I had to dig out of the basement crawl space, Spencer is seated in the passenger side of the van, her feet stretched out and propped up on the windowsill. She looks completely at ease. But I know Spencer now, and it’s when she puts on this mask of aloofness that she’s the most hurt. She did the same thing when she found out about her dad’s wedding, telling me she was fine when I knew she wasn’t.
The van bumps along the gravel backroad, as I drive the van away from Heartwood, and Spencer hasn’t spoken a word in the last twenty minutes. I don’t mind, though. All I feel is relief that I managed to convince her to let me come with her, to give me just a few more days with her. To let me be there for her.
The look on her face as she shouted at her mother in the drive had taken a gouge out of my heart, and all I wanted was to wrap her up in my arms then and there. She stormed away before I could do that, opting for her usual coping mechanism instead. Running away. Spencer has never told me outright that her childhood was traumatic, but based on the snippets I’ve gathered, it’s no wonder Spencer wanted to get away as soon as possible. It’s no wonder she struggles to figure out where she wants to land.
Spencer is staring out her window at the passing trees, the same as she has for the whole drive so far, when I glance over at her. My hand flexes on the steering wheel as I fix my eyes back on the road. The van bumps over a pothole as I turn into a clearing next to the river that’s rushing beside the secluded backroad.
“Here?” Spencer asks.
“Yes, here.”
“This is the middle of nowhere,” she says, still not budging from where she’s sprawled out with her feet up on the dash.
“That’s the point,” I say. “You wanted to get away. This is it. It’s not the middle of nowhere, I know exactly where we are. Used to come here as a kid.” I get out of the van and stretch my arms overhead before wandering over to the bank beside the rushing water to take in the view of the mountains beyond. I hear the thunk of the door as Spencer shuts it and comes to stand next to me.
We stand side by side in silence for a moment. In my peripheral vision, Spencer closes her eyes in the sun, letting it warm her face and dry the last remnants of old tears on her face.
“Okay. It’s pretty nice here,” she says finally.
“Yeah, right?” I pivot on my heel, letting Spencer stand and admire the river while I set up the campsite. I start by pulling out the awning, and root around in the back hatch to find the fairy lights she had strung up around her last campsite.
Spencer is still staring out at the rapids by the time I’ve finished hanging the lights, but there’s a tension in her shoulders that I’ve seen before, and she’s starting to pace slowly. Just like she did that first day on the lookout when she was talking to her mom. Now, I see her more clearly. Her relationship with Marla has always been a burden, the roles reversed in a way that no child should have to deal with. She had to grow up and be independent before most kids learn to read.
“Are you good?” I ask, although I know the answer. The truthful answer, and the one she’s going to give me.
“Yep,” she answers. I walk over to meet her by the river’s edge and place a hand on her back, motioning for her to turn towards me. She does, and when her eyes meet mine, they’re red-rimmed, new tears forming on her bottom lashes. One of them falls on her cheek, and I lift a hand, cupping her jaw and wiping it away with the pad of my thumb.
“No, you’re not,” I say softly.
“No. I’m not.” She admits with a sniffle, then squares her shoulders and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “What does it matter now anyways? There’s no sense being upset about something that’s already done. Not to mention something that I should have been prepared for in the first place.”
“You’re allowed to feel your feelings about this Spencer.” I reach up to lift her chin, and peer into her shimmering emerald eyes. “What your mom did was really shitty. The way she’s treated you is really shitty, and you’re allowed to say so.”
“It doesn’t change her, and it doesn’t change me. I am who I am because of her,” Spencer says, almost a whisper. Her eyes cast downward again, so I take her chin between my thumb and forefinger, and tip her head back, holding it there so she has to look at me.
“You are magnificent. Everything in your life has brought you to this moment. You are who you are because of everything you’ve experienced, and I wouldn’t change any of it for the world, because it brought you to me.” I’ll say it over and over and over again. She’s perfect in her beautifully flawed way, and I’m just so grateful to know her. I’ll say it until she believes it, until the words become part of her very identity.
My hand wraps around the nape of her neck as I lower my face and brush my lips against hers. They’re red and puffy from crying but I kiss them tenderly. The soft pressure makes her respond, and she moves her lips with mine. A sweet, blissful moment, and then it’s over and she’s pulled away, leaving me with a void in front of me, needing more.
“Okay. I’m okay.” She huffs a breath, steeling herself. “Show me around, then.”
“Are you feeling up for a walk?” I offer. If Spencer wants me to show her around, I know just the place I’m going to take her. My last shot at showing her what Heartwood has to offer, why she should stay for good.
“Sure,” she says, her mouth lifts into a grin, one that I haven’t seen since earlier at the council meeting. I missed that smile. It’s so fucking gorgeous that seeing it now feels like a relief.
“Well then let’s go. We only have a few hours until sundown.” I clasp her hand in mine and lead her away from the campsite, down the road until we reach a break in the trees. The trail head is still here, and just the way I remember it.
“You said this was a walk,” Spencer groans behind me. I haul myself up the rocks that form big steps up the trail.
“It is. We’re walking, aren’t we?” I say over my shoulder. “It’s not long, I promise.”
“That’s what you said twenty minutes ago. I’m all sweaty now.” She whines like a child asking are we there yet? The evergreens break up ahead, daylight shimmering through the branches that are becoming less and less dense. I can just about see the clearing.
“I’ll have a solution for that soon.”
We reach the top of the stone steps and I stop, allowing Spencer to catch up. She halts next to me as she takes in the waterfall up ahead. The water cascades over the rocks in sheets and trickles, landing in a calm pool of water at its base.
“Grady, you have to stop doing this,” Spencer says.
“What?”
“Taking my breath away.” She turns to look at me, her face brighter and more open than it has been all afternoon. My heart swells. Nothing feels better to me than making Spencer happy.
“You take my breath away every moment of every day,” I say, earnestly. Every day since Spencer walked into my life, I’ve been trying to find a way to make sure she never walks back out. “Come on, there’s more to show you.”
I lead her over the stones that rim the pool until we reach the spot where the rock is carved away and steaming water fills small basins. I drop my backpack on the ground and begin removing my shirt, my jeans.
“What are you doing?” Spencer says, and I turn to her, my mouth sliding into a lazy, flirtatious grin.
I hold her gaze and remove my boxer shorts, and I watch something flash in her eyes.
“I’m going swimming,” I say blandly. “It’s up to you if you want to join me.” I lower myself into the water, crouching to let it cover my shoulders, to cover my arousal as I imagine her stripping down in front of me. Steam rises around me, as if it’s my body alone heating the small pool.
Spencer grins, her mouth working as she considers.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea, Grady.” I know the hidden meaning behind her words. Words that are laced with desire, but also knowing. This thing between us is still temporary, the expiration date looming closer.
“Why? Because we’ve broken the rules of our agreement and now you don’t know what this is between us anymore? Just say it. You don’t know what this is and that scares you. It doesn’t scare me, Spencer. So, get in the water. If at the end of this, you still want to leave, then we will have had an incredible last few days together.”
Desire flares in her eyes this time again, and she removes her T-shirt, her jeans, everything, until she is bare. A forest goddess extending her impossibly long, smooth legs into the hot spring.
I stand on the bottom of the pool, and she extends her arms up to wrap around my neck.
“This doesn’t scare you. Like, at all?”
“No. Even if you leave, and you go off on your world travels for another decade, you’ll come back. And I’ll be here. So, no. I’m not scared.” I dip my mouth so it’s right next to her ear, so she can feel every syllable. “I told you, Spencer. You and I are inevitable .”
Spencer’s breath hitches, and I take the opportunity to bury my face in her hair, finding the column of her neck with my mouth. I trail a line of featherlight kisses against her jaw, and her weight slackens in my arms. Crouching in the water, I lower Spencer down to me and wrap her legs around my waist.
She throws her head back, giving me access to the soft, vulnerable spot beneath her jaw and I nip it gently before planting a soothing kiss. A display of trust, that I won’t hurt her. Her response is a deeply satisfying moan that stirs a primal part of me. I grip her hips, my fingertips digging into her flesh as she bucks against me.
I lift her up, her body near weightless in the water, and lower her onto my length. She settles onto me, and rather than rocking against me, she holds herself still. Her hands cup the back of my head, her fingers gripping my hair, and she touches her forehead to mine in soft reverence.
“You’re too good,” she whispers. Something in my chest cracks when she says it. “You’re too good for me.”
“I will spend every waking minute of every day being too good to you, Spencer. I could never be too good for you.” Her lips meet mine, and she moans softly into my mouth. Our mouths, our hands, become frantic, desperate to feel more of each other.
She flicks her hips up and back, and I lose myself in the sensation of her, coming closer and closer to my edge. My hands find her neck and I brush my fingers upwards, tangling them in her hair.Spencer moans again, more guttural this time, and it is my unleashing. I grip her hips once again, lifting her off me and out of the water with ease. I shift us both so I can lay her down on the smooth stone forming the edge of the basin, and I hover over her, finding my footing in the warm shallow pool.
The cool air on her wet skin causes goosebumps to spread down her arms, and I find her hand with mine, picking it up to kiss it as I drive myself into her. I twine my fingers through hers, never breaking eye contact as I thrust into her until I’m buried to the hilt. Spencer moans, finding the rock with her other free hand and gripping until her fingertips turn white. She stabilizes herself while I pump into her deeper, harder.
“Fuck, Grady,” she cries, her moans becoming raspier and more desperate with every stroke of my cock inside of her.
“That’s it,” I praise her, and she answers me back with a cry of pleasure. “Feel me, feel how good we are together.”
Her walls clench around me, her expression twisting, mouth open in a silent scream.
“Come on, Rebel. Let me see that gorgeous pussy come all over my cock. You’re so beautiful when you come.”
She sucks in a breath between her teeth and then releases it with a scream that sounds like my name. I keep thrusting, keeping my rhythm steady as her body shudders.
“Let’s see if you’ve got one more for me.” When her body slackens slightly, I change my pace, slower, and bring my thumb to her clit, stroking softly up and down.
I watch her pleasure build again. This is all I want. All I need. To give and give and serve her. She finds another release, this time longer, more drawn out, less explosive. When she finally comes again, I let my seed pump into her. My body falls forward, and I bow over her in worship.
Her hands cradle my face and she kisses me, our bodies still fused together.
When we finally untangle ourselves from each other, she sits up at the edge of the pool and slips into the water, allowing her body to float, weightless. I watch her from the side, her breasts and pebbled nipples rising above the surface of the calm water.
Her eyes are closed, and her features are still. Peaceful. Birds chirp overhead, the leaves rustling with the cool evening breeze. I know Spencer can’t hear any of it, her head half submerged, the world a fuzzy and distant place.
I let her live in that quiet tranquil space for as long as she needs.
Finally, she opens her eyes and stares up at the canopy of branches, the clouds gathering behind them.
“This is exactly what I needed,” she says, her voice soft as she speaks for the first time in several minutes.
“Good.”
“It’s hard to be angry or upset when you’ve just had two earth-shattering orgasms in one of the most beautiful places.” She closes her eyes again, still leaning her head back in the water. The lines on her forehead have softened, and the look on her face is serene. I rest my weight back on my hands and just admire her. There’s a warmth that fills me, like a solid, tangible thing I didn’t know I’d been missing until now. It’s purpose. Spencer has given me that. She has shown me how to go after the things I want, but she’s also given me this new sense of purpose, too. The drive I now have to make her happy, to keep her safe, to take care of her, but also to watch her spread her wings and fly, to cheer for her when she succeeds. “I was just so, so angry. I think I’ve been angry my entire life. At least since my dad left us, anyways.”
“I know,” I say, my tone is softened by understanding. I know what it’s like to be angry about life circumstances you don’t have control over.
“How do I forgive her?” she asks. It’s a question I don’t have an answer to. I wish my mom was around for just one more day, that I could be a kid again and get angry at her and stomp off to my room and slam my door. “She had one job. To be a mom. I didn’t expect much, you know? Just a safe home to live in … and to feel like I mattered.” Her words are like a key, unlocking an answer that I’ve been looking for over these past few weeks. It’s forming, on the tip of my tongue, a vague, nebulous idea taking shape.
“You’re lucky to have her, Spencer. Flawed as she may be.”I consider my own parents for a moment, both gone too soon. Neither of them was perfect either, but over the years of remembering them, missing them, and growing into the man I am today, I see them more clearly. Just two human beings who were trying their best despite challenging circumstances.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” she says, shifting herself from where she’s floating so she can look at me. “I don’t really have a right to complain.” I duck my head, staring down at my feet.
“It’s okay. I know your mom fucked up, but I do think she does the best she can with what she has. You’re fully allowed to be mad at her right now and feel your feelings. But take it from me, there’s nothing I wish more than to have another day to tell my mom how much she means to me.”
Spencer leans her head back in the water again and stares up at the sky, now covered with an overcast of dark grey clouds.
A cool breeze causes goosebumps to form on my damp skin, so I slide off the rock and lower myself into the warmth of the hot spring. She doesn’t say anything in response, but I know she’s heard me. I know the words have landed and are settling into some place within her that she doesn’t want to face right now. In time, she will. In time, she’ll find a way to forgive her mother. Even if that means she doesn’t have a relationship with her.
Thunder rumbles in the distance. It’s near enough that the clouds above us open up and rain starts to fall around us in sheets. Thunder booms again. The sound makes me jump, and I expect Spencer to do the same. I expect her to shriek and get out of the water and make a run back to camp. But she doesn’t. Spencer smiles, still floating on her back in the crystalline water of the hot spring, now dancing with the raindrops falling on the surface. Instead, she laughs, joyous, melodious sounds erupting from her. As if the rain and the very act of laughing are healing her from the inside out. As if it’s healing her fundamental fear of the thunder. And I hope that somewhere inside her, it’s healing her fear of relationships, too.