Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Emily
“Leaving.”
The word lands between us like a stone dropped on the raw pine floor.
My lips still carry the warmth of him, the taste of him, and lower down, my body hums with the echo of what just happened.
The hard evidence of his want nudges me through layers of wool and denim, the sound he made when I kissed him, the way his fingers twisted into my flannel like he was afraid I might pull away.
I didn’t pull away.
But he did when he touched the Mark Jared left on my neck. As if he'd only just remembered my bondmate, and something about it unsettled him, but Grady has never shown any discomfort where Jared is concerned.
“Does it bother you?” I ask. “That I also belong to Jared?”
The question catches him off guard. “What? No, of course not. I like Jared, too, though not in the same way.”
But the Mark definitely triggered his retreat. And he’s still retreating.
Grady backs up another half-step, his knuckles white around the handle of his cane.
His breathing is still uneven, his chest rising and falling in shallow hitches.
The flush that started at his throat when I kissed him has spread to his cheeks, staining them pink.
Nothing about him suggests a man who wants to leave.
Which means there’s another problem. One that’s holding him back. And I can fix a problem.
“I’m not sorry I kissed you,” I say. “And I’m not going to apologize for wanting you.”
His breath hitches, and when his eyes find mine from behind his glasses, I see my reflection in his blown pupils.
“This isn’t a curiosity for me.” I take a step forward, the pine creaking under my boot. “So if you need more time, I can wait.”
He doesn’t move, but a fine tremor goes through his body.
“I want you, Grady.” I stop in front of him. “Not as a friend forever. Not as the guy who shows up for dinner and has me laughing and then goes home to someone else’s couch.”
A muscle jumps in his jaw, and his hand flexes on his cane.
“I want to be the one who cooks your meals,” I tell him, refusing to back down. “I want to rub your knee when it hurts, and be there when you draft your first book. I can’t offer you a pack yet, but give me time, and I’ll find a way.”
Grady’s mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.
Nothing comes out.
I wait, having laid bare everything we’ve been circling around for months. That wasn’t fantasy in my imagination. I’ve seen the way he watches me, and whatever is pulling him away, it won’t be a misunderstanding about my desires.
He exhales through his nose, a long, slow breath that betrays the burden he’s been carrying for months, maybe longer.“It’s not that I don’t feel this thing building between us. That’s not why I’m leaving.”
I keep my arms loose at my sides to stop myself from reaching for him again. If I thought reassurances would solve this, I wouldn’t hesitate, but this runs deeper.
“My family is back east, and they need me.” He swallows hard. “Staying here was never supposed to be permanent, and there are consequences for not going back that are larger than just... wanting something else.”
His eyes lift to mine, then drop. The flush has faded from his cheeks, leaving behind a pallor that I want to wipe away.
“What does ‘needs you’ actually mean?” I ask.
His mouth twists. “A business I’m supposed to take over. Family expectations. Obligation. Money.”
He moves to stand in the kitchen and leans on the counter to give his bad leg some relief.
“They have a vision for what my life should be. Who I should be with. Where I should live. What I should do with my days.” A short, humorless sound escapes him. “And the worst part is, they’re not wrong about everything. Some of it is reasonable. On paper.”
I take in the tightness around his mouth and the way his jaw works, as if he’s chewing on a bitter truth.
“I could walk away.” His glasses have slipped down his nose a fraction, and he doesn’t push them back up. “I know I could. But walking away means burning bridges I might need someday. It means disappointing parents who have given me everything, even if it came with strings attached.”
His fingers curl on the quartz countertop. “It means looking my father in the eye and telling him the future he’s built for me isn’t the one I want, and watching him try to understand why and failing, because to him, it’s perfect. It’s everything.”
The light through the windows dims, the gray deepening toward dusk. Outside, the trees have gone dark against the sky, branches black and sharp.
I understand struggling under the pressure of other people’s expectations, of giving away your life to keep others happy. It breaks you down and leaves you miserable when life should be about joy.
I don’t want that for Grady.
“I can’t offer you money, but you’ve never struck me as someone who needed a lot.
And I can’t solve the problems with your parents’ expectations, but I can give you a home, with a roof over your head and warm meals on the table.
I can offer you the space to decide what brings you happiness long term. ”
He hangs his head. “You know this last year has been rough. I’ve never been less than capable—”
“You’re still capable,” I cut in, unwilling to stand for anyone talking bad about Grady, not even himself. “You’re one of the most capable and down-to-earth people I’ve ever known.”
He gives me a sad smile. “I appreciate you saying that, but I have to accept that this is as good as things are going to get for me, and as I get older, it’s going to go downhill. And I never want to be a burden.”
“If you’re staying away because you think you’re not worth wanting,” I growl, “that’s not a reason I’ll let stand.”
His head comes up in surprise.
“You’re not a burden, and you’re not broken. You’re fierce and protective of your chosen people, and anyone would be proud to stand at your side.”
His eyes brighten, and he turns away, blinking quickly.
“I’m not asking you to choose me over your parents.” I shake my head. “That’s not what this is. Choosing between people who love you and people who want you… That’s a shitty choice, and I won’t put you in that position.”
I take a breath of the chilly air in the cabin, the warmth of the day gone, and it stings my lungs.
“But if the reason you’re walking away is because you think wanting you is a mistake I’ll regret, or a burden I’m not prepared to carry, or something you don’t deserve to have, then you’re wrong. And I’m not going to pretend otherwise just to ease your conscience.”
His throat works, and he swipes at his cheeks before turning back to me. “It’s not that I don’t want this. You have to know that. You are an amazing woman, and I don’t know what I did that earned me your attention, but I’m thankful for it.”
The but hangs in the air before he even speaks it.
“Wanting to stay and choosing to stay are two different things, though.” He studies the counter beneath his hand rather than me.
“And I need to face my parents before I can decide. And it’s not because of the money, please don’t ever think that.
But if I don’t go back, they’ll cut me out completely, and I’m not sure I’m ready to lose them. ”
“Okay.” I step closer, pulling him back into my arms for a hug. “I understand.”
Slowly, his arm comes around me, and his face turns into my neck.
A purr starts up, and my arms tighten around him. “Just don’t forget that we’re here while you’re over there. And make the decision that will bring you the most happiness, you hear me?”
He nods against my shoulder.
I nuzzle his temple, scenting him and wishing it would last throughout his absence. “How long will you be gone?”
“Two weeks,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my neck. “My parents will have my schedule packed, but I’ll find time to contact you and Jared.”
“That’s good.” I back up and cup his chin, lifting his face to mine. “And in case anyone on the east coast tries to tempt you…”
I claim his lips again, drinking down the startled squeak that escapes him before he melts into me. I don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it, sagging against me as he kisses me back, his lips parting faster this time at the brush of my tongue.
He moans, his hand rising to cup the back of my neck, and this time, when his fingers brush my bonding mark from Jared, he doesn’t flinch.
His nails dig into the raised skin, as if an instinct deep inside him wants to leave a mark of his own, and it gives me hope that this isn’t the end for what hasn’t even been given the room to begin.
Reluctantly, I pull back, and a pleased rumble rises from me at the pink returning to Grady’s cheeks and the glassy, unfocused quality of his eyes.
My thumb wipes the shine from his lips, savoring their warmth for one last heartbeat.
Then I step away. “Have a safe flight. And don’t go silent. I want regular check-ins to ensure you’re being treated right.”
He nods, at a loss for words, and that pleases me, too, because Grady is a master of words.
I hate that he’s leaving, but this thing between us isn’t a high school crush, and we’re not teenagers. I refuse to believe that a plane ride and a little distance can undo what just happened.
With a nod, I turn on my heel and stride out the door.
I don’t look back.
If I do, I might beg him to stay.