Grace #3
“No, you stay,” I say, punctuating my words with kisses. “I’ve gotta use the bathroom, so I’ll grab it.”
As I walk toward the bathroom, I look back at him over my shoulder and find him smiling lazily. I flash him a smile before closing the door.
Switching the bathroom light off, I peer out at Tucker.
He’s between the sheets now, head resting on his pillow with his eyes closed.
He looks so peaceful, and eerily youthful beneath the moonlight.
One arm rests across his bare chest while the other lies outstretched over the pillow on my side, where the covers have been pulled back, waiting for me.
My side.
It’s terrifying how easily that thought slipped out. But what’s positively nightmarish is how badly I want it to be my side—of our bed, in our room, in the house that we built together. Like it always should’ve been.
I slide the hanging barn door open and tiptoe toward the bed. Tucker’s eyelids flutter open, and there’s a slightly dazed look to them as he grins up at me. “Come ‘ere, you.” He pats the empty pillow beneath his arm.
Crawling in beside him, his arm immediately wraps around my shoulders.
He pulls me into him as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.
In another lifetime, it was. I rest my head and hand against his bare chest as he pulls the covers over me, slowly sweeping my fingers back and forth above his heart.
Warmth envelops me when his other hand slides down my bare thigh and behind my knee, pulling it up and across his legs.
He draws delicate circles against my upper thigh, letting out a content sigh.
I can’t get enough of the way he needs to be constantly touching me—I feel the same way about him.
“You were incredible today, by the way.”
I unstick my cheek from his chest to rest my chin there instead, giving me the ability to look at his handsome face.
The look he gives me is one of earnest—eyes soft, the brown variants almost black in the dark, lips slanted up ever so slightly.
The familiar warmth that only his look can summon settles over me.
This, right here, could be my whole world.
“I was?” is all I manage to get out, because I’ve overwhelmed the cognitive part of my brain with thoughts of him.
Tucker reaches for my face, smoothing a hand across my curls and tucking them behind my ear.
The smile he gives me makes my stomach flip.
His palm comes to rest on my cheek, his thumb stroking along my cheekbone.
“Yes, you were. I’m honestly in awe of how talented you are.
But I’m not the least bit surprised; I’ve known since the twelfth birthday party that you planned for Whit that you were destined for greatness. ”
“You know better than anyone that it was a team effort.”
“Yeah, but if you hadn’t come on board when you did, we never could’ve pulled together an event like that. That was all you, Gracie girl.” He leans in and kisses the tip of my nose, and I swear I almost melt.
Tucker wraps an arm around my midsection and rolls me to face away from him before tugging me closer to him.
With my back against his chest and his arm lying across my waist, I know this is where I belong.
He slips one of his legs between mine and I wrap myself in him like a blanket.
Just for fun, I wiggle my ass against his cock.
“Gracie,” he groans. “Don’t be startin’ something you can’t finish.”
I just giggle and burrow my head further between his bicep and my pillow.
There I go again, just casually referring to his things as mine as though it’s simply second nature to me. Despite all of my fears and the little voice telling me it’s not too late to run, I really do want to call his things mine. I want to call him mine.
Just as I’m ready to close my eyes, content for the bone-deep exhaustion to pull me into slumber, a glint of blue against the back of the door catches my attention.
He’s hung my gown up.
What would be just a small, almost insignificant, gesture to most, is anything but to me.
“You always hated leaving your clothes lying around.” His voice is a whisper against the crown of my head as he gently squeezes my thigh.
It’s an effort to keep the rising emotion at bay.
I try to focus on steadying my breathing instead of the unbidden tears welling behind my lids.
The faintest of kisses is pressed against the bare skin on the back of my shoulder. I can practically feel his smile. “Love you.” His voice is groggy, but those two words are clear as day.
My heart stops dead, the breath I was trying to steady now lodged in my throat.
When I work up the courage to glance up at Tucker, his eyes are closed once more, his breathing low and even.
I let out a silent breath, grateful I don’t have to come up with a response right now, because what the fuck am I meant to say to that?
A mix of frustration and fear bubbles beneath the surface of my skin, each emotion fighting for dominance.
I wait until he’s sound asleep before I throw on his discarded pajamas and make a move.