Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Being in love with someone is all about the little things…and not killing each other.” -Miss-Know-It-All’s Gossip Column
Two days before New Year’s Eve, Gracie sat down in the window seat of the Delta flight that would take them to Salt Lake City, Utah, and on to Chicago, Illinois, and finally, New York City. They had decided to fly out of Twin Falls instead of Boise because it was closer, but the two rows of seating on either side of the plane’s aisle made the jet seem smaller.
Not that Gracie minded; she loved flying, but Eric was so tall, she was worried he’d be cramped.
“Are you sure you don’t want the window seat?” she asked.
“Nah, I’m good.”
She noticed the beads of sweat on his temples, and his skin appeared ashen. “Are you okay? Are you going to be sick?”
He jerked his head. “Yeah, no, I’m good.”
The flight attendant gave her safety demonstration, and the plane started to roll. Gracie watched Eric grip the armrests and bit her cheek to keep from smiling.
“Are you afraid of flying?”
“No, I just hate taking off. And landing.”
This time, Gracie did laugh, even as she slid her hand into his. “Don’t worry. Just squeeze my hand if you get scared.”
“I’m not a child.”
“That’s not why I’m offering. Everyone is scared of something. You shouldn’t be embarrassed of it.”
Eric didn’t say anything else, but as the plane lifted off the ground, Eric’s grip tightened on her hand. Gracie’s stomach flipped as the plane hit a pocket of air and dropped. She wasn’t scared of flying, but she wasn’t a fan of turbulence either.
“If you’re so nervous about taking off and landing, then why did we choose the two-stop option? We could have gone to Boise and just had the one stop in Denver.”
Eric turned his head, and she realized his eyes were closed.
“Because I didn’t want to pay for parking.”
Gracie burst out laughing. “You would rather be petrified than pay thirty dollars?”
“I am not petrified. If I were petrified, I wouldn’t be able to talk.”
Gracie grinned wickedly and leaned over, brushing her lips over his. “I’ve got a few ideas on how to get you to relax.”
“There is no way I’m fitting in a tiny airplane bathroom.”
Realizing he thought she was talking about sex, she giggled. “Actually, I was thinking we could just make out.”
He gave her a quick, hard kiss and whispered, “As much as I love doing that, I’m not really in the mood. I’d rather just talk.”
Gracie’s jaw dropped, and she was glad he couldn’t see the blush on her cheeks. She would never have expected Eric to turn her down just to talk.
He really is scared.
“Okay, what should we talk about?” she asked.
“Tell me about what’s going on with Pip.”
Gracie’s heart lifted. “I talked to Margaret, and the court hearing is set for the eighth. We’re hoping that none of her children show up and argue, since they haven’t seemed eager to help take care of her, but you never know.”
He opened his eyes and kissed her forehead. “You’re going to make a great mom.”
Gracie’s eyes filled with tears. “I know. And I love her. Of course, being a single mom is going to make dating more complicated.”
“Not if you’re with the right guy. He’s going to want you and her and all the baggage that comes with it.”
Gracie’s breath caught, and it was on the tip of her tongue to ask if he was the one. If he wanted all this and her.
But she was a coward.
“Thanks.” She cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. “I still have to find a bigger place. She can sleep with me or in the Pack ’n Play for now, but eventually, she needs her own room.”
“You still have time to look.”
She was relieved he hadn’t offered to let them move in, because that would have been an awkward plane ride. Although she could picture it, which should have made her run for the hills, but it didn’t. She imagined Eric and her arguing over décor and him teaching Pip about cars. The three of them hitting all the Rock Canyon activities, like the Fourth of July parade, the Harvest Festival, the tree-lighting ceremony. Being an actual family.
There was a loud ding, and the flight attendant came over the loudspeaker, letting them know they had hit ten thousand feet but to keep their seat belts securely fastened. Eric’s grip loosened a bit, and her hand started tingling as the feeling came back.
“So, I downloaded a couple of movies for us to watch on my iPad.”
“What kind of movies?” he asked, suspicion rife in his tone.
“Good ones like Pride and Prejudice , The Duff , Veronica Mars …”
He groaned, and she laughed.
“I may also have a Lethal Weapon , The Magnificent Seven , and a few other masculine choices.”
“Now we’re talking.” Eric kissed her, and as he pulled back, their gazes latched. “Thanks for being here, Gracie Lou. It means a lot.”
Gracie’s heartbeat sped up. “Sure. I’m happy for you. I’ll even let you pick first.”
She set up the iPad, and Eric lifted the armrest so that there was nothing between them. As they put the split-way headphones in their ears, Gracie laid her cheek on Eric’s chest while he held the screen on his knees. As the opening scene unfolded in a church, with some pretty nasty men threatening the townsfolk, Gracie realized that she’d never wanted to make a man happy before. She’d dated a lot of men, but she’d always worn the pants, and if she didn’t, she lost interest fast.
But compromising with Eric felt good. Just being with him did.
Who would have thought?
* * *
Ten hours later, Eric carried their bags across the shiny hotel floor, a definite hitch in his giddy-up from the hours his legs had been bent up to his chest. Next time they flew, he was booking first class and he was stretching out.
Gracie kept trying to take her bag from him, insisting she could carry the pink, bedazzled-looking luggage, but he’d growled at her more than once that his woman wasn’t carrying her luggage when he had an extra hand.
It was after eleven at night in New York, and Eric was ready to go to bed. It was funny considering he would usually be awake for another five hours or so at home, but traveling all day had wiped him out. He’d taken a little nap in Chicago, stretched out on the floor with his head in Gracie’s lap. That had been nice.
More than nice.
They checked in and headed up to their room on the fifteenth floor. The publisher had arranged their accommodations, and as they stepped inside the room, Eric froze.
“Holy shit!” Gracie said.
The room was spacious, with a king-size bed and two black nightstands on either side. The artwork on the walls was black-and-white framed photos of New York Skylines and the oversized black chair and ottoman in the corner looked inviting. A black desk was positioned against the wall, and the drapes to the window were spread open, showing off the bright lights from the city buildings.
“This is nice!” Gracie went into the bathroom and flipped on the light. “Hey, check out the bathroom.”
Eric came up behind her and whistled. A deep claw-foot tub and large shower, complete with two-sink vanity. It was almost as big as his bathroom.
“Before we leave, I’m soaking in that tub.”
Suddenly, Eric wasn’t so tired.
“Why don’t you go first, and I’ll clean up after you?” he said.
She smiled up at him. “You sure? We might be able to squeeze into the tub together.”
He looked dubiously at the bathtub. “Yeah, sure, with my legs sticking out. I can wait.”
Gracie grabbed her suitcase from him and wheeled it into the bathroom. “I won’t be long.”
Eric walked over to the window and looked down. Even at nearlymidnight, the streets were packed with cars and people. It really was the city that never slept.
By the time Gracie finished in the bathroom, he had unpacked his clothes, including the tux he had rented for the party, and hung it up in the closet. The invitation from his publisher had said black tie, and he already knew he was going to feel like an odd duck, even in the penguin suit. He was supposed to meet his agent for coffee in the morning and go by his publisher’s office after, but he was hoping he’d get to enjoy the city a bit with Gracie.
Gracie came out of the bathroom in Hello Kitty pajamas, and Eric grinned. “Has anyone every called you adorable?”
She quirked her left eyebrow at him. “Yes, but it’s not always meant as a compliment.”
He kissed her slowly until she was leaning into his body. “Mine is. And I won’t be long.”
He grabbed his shaving kit and a clean pair of sweats before heading into the bathroom. After his shower, he stared at his face, his beard, and his short hair that was just now several inches on the top and cleaned up on the sides.
He pulled out his trimming scissors, razor, and shaving cream and started to cut away at the hair on his face. When it was short enough, he covered his face with shaving cream and then slowly dragged his razor down his cheeks and neck.
Once his face was toweled dry, he looked back at the man in the mirror. It had been a long time since he’d seen his face clean-shaven. His cheekbones were high, and his chin square. It was strange, and he wasn’t even sure if he liked it.
Gracie might, though.
He pulled on the sweats and stepped out of the bathroom. Gracie was in bed, watching something on her iPad. Something that she obviously didn’t want him to see, since she slapped it shut.
When she turned toward him, she froze.
“Whoa,” she whispered.
Eric ran his hand over his face self-consciously. “I thought these city folks might be scared of the big, hairy mountain man.”
“I forgot what you looked like under all that hair,” she said. “The party is black tie, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, why?”
Her green eyes raked over him from head to toe. “I just realized that as sexy as you are with a beard, tomorrowyou’re going to look like fucking James Bond.”
Eric laughed, not really taking her seriously. “Yeah, whatever.”
“No, I’m serious. You are going to have women crawling all over you.”
He couldn’t deny that her flattery was appreciated, but unnecessary. He flopped down on the bed next to her and reached for her tablet. “I only want one woman, so it’s not going to be an issue.”
She moved the device out of his reach. “Aw, who? Megan Fox?”
“Yes, I am saving myself for Megan Fox.” He bounced up and snatched her iPad. “Now, what in the hell are you hiding? Porn?”
“Uh-huh. Boring stuff. You’ll hate it.”
“Nah, all porn is awesome.” Eric tapped on the YouTube video and froze. “What in the hell is…”
Gracie snatched the iPad. “What?”
“Are you watching people pop zits?”
“Okay, yes, I follow Dr. Pimple Popper on—”
“Dr. Fucking What?!”
“Dr. Pimple Popper. She is a dermatologist that posts her videos up on her YouTube channel, which I follow. She posted a new one, and I figured while I waited for you, I’d watch.”
Eric blinked at her. “You’re gross.”
Gracie laughed. “Shut up, a lot of people like this stuff.”
“Seriously disturbed people!”
“Just try it! You might like it!”
“Nope. Nope.” He took her iPad and set it away from her. “There are things I am willing to try, but this is not one of them.”
Gracie climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. “You’re being awfully judge-y.”
“I’m not judging. I just don’t want to be a part of your sick fetishes.”
She leaned over and bit his ear. “It’s not a fetish. It is entertainment. A fetish is wanting to tie you to the bed and make you follow my every command.”
Eric’s cock jerked in response to her low, sultry tone. “Now that I’m okay with.”